The cart wheels groaned as the first of the merchants began to pull away. A few chickens clucked from cages overhead.
Amanda stepped onto the back of the cart. The worn wooden bars creaked beneath her boots. She didn't look back. She just offered her hand behind her, steady and waiting.
Leo reached for it blindly, but didn't take it.
Not yet.
Instead, he turned.
Ranna was standing off the road. Her coat flapped softly in the morning breeze. One hand rested casually on the hilt of her short blade. She hadn't moved. Not an inch.
Leo stepped toward her, boots crunching against the gravel.
"Hey," he said.
Ranna didn't answer. She shifted her weight and raised an eyebrow, as if to say: Get on with it.
He extended his hand.
She looked at it for a moment. Then she took it. Her grip was firm and callused. Not a handshake.
An exchange.
Of something unspoken, heavy as blood, light as breath.
When they let go, the space between them felt changed.
Leo turned to go.
Then paused, hand halfway to the cart rail.
"Wait," he said. "Where's Cris?"
Ranna didn't blink. She jerked her chin toward the tail end of the caravan.
Leo squinted down the road. Sure enough, in the furthest cart, half-hidden behind fabric sacks and stacked crates of grain. A familiar mop of wild hair stuck out from beneath a too-big hood.
Cris.
Perched cross-legged on a crate. His eyes were fixed on the steel at his side.
Ranna followed Leo's gaze. "Said he wants to be an adventurer," she murmured. "He's different from before."
"I'm not taking that away," she added, "not from someone whose eyes are like that."
Leo stared a moment longer.
His lips tugged upward.
"Good," he said. "It's about time."
Then he turned and vaulted up beside Amanda.
The cart jolted beneath them.
The merchant at the reins gave a sharp whistle, and with a clatter of hooves and a low grunt from the oxen, the caravan began to roll.
The farm receded behind them.
The wind picked up as they left the last fencepost behind. Amanda leaned back against a sack and closed her eyes. The wind tangled through her hair. Leo sat beside her in silence, hands resting loosely on his knees, eyes scanning the long stretch of road ahead.
And for a while, that was all there was—just the road and the feeling that it wasn't pulling them forward but unfolding beneath them.
The road stretched on. A winding thread of dust and stone pulled tight between forest and city.
They pressed forward over the uneven ground. The cart wheels clunked in steady rhythm, scrambling with every tree root and loose rock. The breeze carried the scent of pine bark and sun-warmed grass. It brushed against Leo's skin like a fading memory.
He leaned forward and then inhaled slowly and deeply. Deeper than he needed to.
Leo then turned to Amanda.
She'd tucked herself into the corner of the cart. Her head tilted back, arms folded loosely across her middle, chin nudged toward her collar. One leg bent, the other stretched out. The steady rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of the cart's wheels. Her face was peaceful in a way Leo rarely saw it. Unguarded. Her lips parted slightly. The edge of her tied hair slipped loose.
And then he saw it. Not on purpose, not something he searched for. But there it was, a detail that insisted on being noticed.
Each bump of the cart sent a soft motion through her body. Each rumble over rough stone, particularly where her worn shirt clung too closely. Too openly.
Leo looked away fast, jaw tightening.
Then rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment.
But even in the dark behind his eyelids, the road kept moving.
Nearly two hours passed. They were marked by nothing but the occasional grunt from the oxen. The low murmur of merchant chatter from further up the caravan. The sun had risen higher, stretching shadows thin beneath the trees. Gradually, the forest began to pull away.
The air changed, subtly at first, then all at once.
The rocky, root-strangled path gave way to smoother stone. Paved and worn from years of travel. The trees thinned, replaced by fence posts and split rails. Soon, those too faded, giving way to wide stretches of open land carved by crisscrossing roads. Cart after cart rolled past. Some filled with livestock, others gleaming with polished goods.
Leo's eyes lit up with wide-eyed wonder, like childish glee, like someone finally stepping into a room they'd only seen through a locked door.
Amanda stirred beside him. A soft grunt left her throat as she blinked herself awake. Her hand drifted lazily to brush away the hair stuck to her cheek. Her eyes squinted in the sun.
She followed his gaze.
Saw the smile grew on his face.
"Don't start drooling," she said, voice still half-dream. "You'll embarrass both of us."
Leo chuckled, dragging his eyes away from the view. "I'm just looking."
Amanda stretched, slow and loose. Her shoulders rolled back with a pop. "Be careful doing that, too. Some people don't like being stared at. Especially by adventurers."
Leo turned that over in his head. His gaze drifted to a pair of travelers nearby. A noblewoman with a veiled hat and a towering mercenary beside her. Neither spared their cart a second glance.
"Huh," he muttered. "People like that exist anywhere, huh?"
Amanda smirked, not answering.
They passed guards at regular spots. Stationed in pairs near mile-markers. Dressed in the city's white-and-blue tabards. Spears resting against their shoulders. Some gave polite nods. Others barely looked up.
The world had grown louder. Wider.
The fresh air of the forest was gone now, swallowed by a swirl of smells. Roasted meat, spiced grains, cured leather, and something bitter beneath it all like city smoke. Inns loomed at the roadside. Flanked by outdoor kitchens and rows of merchant stalls already calling their prices to early customers.
Leo shifted in place, taking it all in.
Ahead, over the rise, the capital began to take shape—walls, towers, spires gleaming in the sun, light tracing across stone like polished bone. From a distance, it didn't feel like a city but like a force, a kind of living monument.
Leo leaned forward, one hand braced against the side of the cart.
Amanda watched him for a moment. Something unreadable flickered in her gaze.
"You ready for this?" she asked finally.
Leo didn't answer right away.
He was staring at the rising gate. At the open mouth of the city that had swallowed so many stories before his.
Then he nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I think I am."