The sun dipped early in Mizuhara.
Not because the day was short, but because the canyon gathered the light and held it close, scattering warm gold across the terraces like powdered amber. Lanterns glowed behind paper screens. Water whispered down the sculpted channels, carrying tea steam and murmured poetry through the winding streets.
The Whispering Leaf took on a softer life as evening settled. Customers filtered in—scholars, traveling poets, and two elderly women who played Dragon Chess with the intensity of trained warriors. Rin moved through the room with the slow, balanced grace of a man who had lived through too many storms and now refused to move faster than peace allowed.
Auralia exhaled for the first time in days. I watched the tension leave her spine, watched her shoulders loosen. She leaned across the table to show Elya how to shape a paper crane more gracefully, her voice almost playful as she teased the girl's clumsy folds.
It should have soothed me.
It didn't.
Every soft smile she gave Elya twisted something inside me tighter. Every gentle light in her eyes reminded me of the poster I'd seen. The lies carved into parchment. The danger waiting outside this small sanctuary of steam and wood.
She deserved peace.Elya deserved safety.And all I had were knives and truths that tasted like ash.
I pushed back from the table before the weight crushed my breath. "I'm going to step outside for a moment."
Auralia looked up—soft, warm, searching. "Everything alright?"
"Tea's strong," I lied. "Need air."
She snorted. "Only you would lose a fight with tea."
"Only once," I said.
She smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. She felt something. She always did.
The curtain lifted behind me as I stepped into the twilight. A breeze carried the scent of roasted rice and sweet herbs. Lanterns lit the upper terraces like drifting stars. The quiet of Mizuhara—beautiful as it was—pressed against my ribs until I couldn't tell if I wanted to breathe deeper or run.
I took the stairs to the second terrace, hands in my pockets, hood low. People passed in pairs or alone, carrying baskets or scrolls or steaming cups. Nothing loud. Nothing sharp.
Except the soldiers.
A pair stood at the end of the terrace, speaking with a shopkeeper. Their uniforms—deep indigo with silver thread—caught the lantern glow. They weren't local. Their boots were too heavy for Mizuharan stone.
Kithran guards.
I drifted left, pretending to study the calligraphy pinned along the railing. My fingers brushed poems about peace and rivers and the transient nature of storms. I almost laughed.
Storms didn't feel transient anymore.
"You are troubled."
Rin's voice came beside me, as gentle and uninvited as mist.
I hadn't heard him approach. That was… concerning.
He leaned against the railing, eyes on the falling water below. "Tea too strong?"
I swallowed. "Something like that."
"The world can pour bitterness into a cup even when the brewer intends sweetness," he said. "But bitterness only lingers if you hold it."
"I'm trying not to," I muttered.
"Trying is a kind of holding," he replied.
I rubbed my face. "Rin…"I almost told him. Almost let the truth spill.Almost showed him the posters.
But something stopped me.
Maybe honesty felt dangerous.Or maybe the world had punished honesty too many times.
He didn't press. He just hummed softly, like he was tasting the air rather than my answer.
"When you are ready," Rin said, "the truth will leave your mouth like steam, whether you want it to or not."
Before I could question that, footsteps echoed down the stone steps.
Auralia.
Her cloak was loose around her shoulders, hair tucked behind her ear in that way she did when she didn't want to look worried. But her eyes—sharp and alert—told the real story.
"Eiran?" she asked quietly. "You left so fast I…" She hesitated. "I felt something."
Of course she did.
Rin bowed slightly to her. "Good evening, Shadow Dancer."
Auralia blinked. "Shadow… what?"
He smiled. "Titles cling to people even after they set them down. Your movements speak of long nights and quiet steps. The shadows listen to you."
Auralia stiffened.
My blood chilled.
Rin's eyes flicked between us. "A truth shared is still heavy," he murmured. "A truth divided becomes lighter… or breaks the floor beneath your feet."
He left us there with that cryptic wound of a sentence and slipped back toward the tea house.
Auralia stepped closer. "Eiran. Look at me."
I did.
And her expression softened. "Something's wrong. You've had that look since we arrived."
"It's nothing," I said. Too quickly.
Her jaw set. She curled her fingers into my cloak, pulling me toward the shadow of a lantern post. "Don't lie to me," she whispered. It wasn't a threat. It was a plea.
"I'm not lying," I said.
"You are," she answered, eyes searching mine, "and you're doing it badly."
Something cracked in my chest.
She lifted her hand to my cheek. "Is it the curse? The runes? Did something hurt you? Did I—"
"No," I said, breath shaking. "You didn't. You never—"
A shout cut through the terrace.
A soldier's voice.
"Check the upper levels. The descriptions match."
Auralia went still, like a flame robbed of air. "Descriptions?"
"Go inside," I said sharply.
"Eiran—"
"Now."
Her eyes widened—not in fear, but in recognition. She sensed the danger I hadn't yet named. Her hand dropped from my face. She didn't argue. She turned and slipped into The Whispering Leaf without a sound.
I stayed where I was, hidden halfway behind the lantern post, watching the soldiers walk slowly down the terrace as they spoke with each shopkeeper.
Their drawings were rolled under one man's arm.
Drawings I knew too well.
One soldier stopped at a pottery booth. "Have you seen this man?" he asked the keeper.
The paper unfurled.
My own eyes stared back at me.
The potter shook his head. "No wanderer with runes. No woman with a mark. Ask the calligrapher."
The soldier nodded and moved on.
My heartbeat hammered so hard I thought it might split the paper post beside me.
I slipped back into the tea house quietly. Lanterns flickered inside. Auralia sat near the table, pretending to teach Elya a game with the stones Rin provided. But her eyes snapped to me instantly.
"What did you hear?" she whispered.
I sat beside them, back straight, breath tight.
"They're searching for someone," I said.
"Who?" Elya asked innocently.
My mouth dried.
And I said the only lie I could manage without choking.
"I don't know."
Auralia's hand slid into mine under the table.
Her fingers trembled.
And for the first time since entering Mizuhara, I wished we had never come.