The man sat down. His eyes were sharp, piercing. His hands folded on the table, his body leaning slightly forward.
Between the wooden table and the dim light, two intentions collided, and Felicia knew this was no ordinary meal.
The man leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking, the air tightening in the space between. His gaze was cold, calculating. Felicia realized she was being assessed, not as a woman, but as a threat.
"Alone?" he asked, his tone smooth but cutting.
Felicia didn't reply right away. Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen, useless. Only an old cook, busy chopping vegetables. She exhaled slowly and met the man's gaze again.
A faint smile curved his lips, like a fisherman savoring the tension of his line.
"Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself. Raphael." He extended his hand. Calm. Controlled. Every movement precise.
Felicia took it, her gesture slow and deliberate. Her fingers touched his, not limp, but not forceful either. Just enough to say: I know who you are, and I'm not afraid.
Raphael's skin was rough, his grip firm. Felicia held his gaze, returning the pressure steadily. A silent duel played out in their handshake.
"Felicia," she answered softly. Her gentle tone carried an unspoken strength that needed no volume.
When their hands parted, the air grew heavy, as if the silence itself had caught fire.
Felicia spoke again, her tone light though her eyes remained vigilant. "Where are you from?"
Raphael smiled faintly, almost like a shadow. "From this city as well. But where we come from doesn't matter as much as where we're going, Felicia."
The words lingered, an unspoken challenge hanging between them. Felicia realized something then: this man wasn't just a stranger. He was a riddle. And maybe, the key.
Felicia shifted slightly in her seat, positioning herself for movement if things turned hostile. She didn't know whether Raphael was a threat or an ally, but one thing was certain: this meeting was no coincidence. And she had to be ready for whatever came next.
Inside the dimly lit room, the soft glow of a fading lamp cast gentle shadows on the wooden walls. The ticking of a clock blended with the faint whisper of wind seeping through the window cracks. Ethan and Radit stood by the doorway, restless, yet composed. Ethan narrowed his eyes, while Radit simply looked down.
"We're stepping out for a bit. Need some air… maybe a smoke. You coming?" Ethan asked, voice flat.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor with the Tome Omnicent resting on his lap, Kaivan lifted his gaze. His eyes gleamed with quiet focus. "I'll stay. Be careful."
They nodded, then left.
Kaivan opened the Tome. On the blank page, faint lines of ink began to surface, forming words: Go to Felicia, outside the inn. You will meet Raphael.
His heart skipped a beat. That name again, Raphael. No time to hesitate. He watched as the letters slowly faded, exhaled a long breath, and shut the book with resolve. Grabbing his jacket, he rose to his feet and stepped into the night.
At a small roadside diner, Felicia sat quietly, her fingers tapping lightly against a half-empty glass of tea. She wasn't really drinking, just thinking. Across from her sat a man whose posture was calm, but whose eyes carried the sharpness of a blade.
Raphael.
His smile was faint, genuine even, yet there was something beneath it, a subtle edge, like a knife hidden beneath silk. Felicia knew this wasn't a casual meeting. It was the beginning of something much larger.
"Do you come to places like this often?" she asked, voice light, as if this were nothing more than polite conversation.
Raphael raised a brow before smiling slightly. "Sometimes. Quiet places help me think." He rolled his sleeves to his elbows, a simple motion, but deliberate. "And you?"
Felicia was just about to reply when hurried footsteps echoed near the entrance. Her body tensed instantly, instincts flaring. Raphael noticed it too, though his expression didn't change. They both turned at the same moment.
Kaivan stood in the doorway, his breathing faintly uneven. His eyes met Felicia's, and in that brief moment, an unspoken message passed between them. Felicia flicked her gaze toward Raphael. Kaivan understood immediately.
Without hesitation, he walked over, masking his tension behind a gentle, practiced smile. "Hey, love. Did you already order?" he asked softly, like a man used to sharing quiet dinners with his partner.
Felicia blinked in surprise but caught on quickly. "Y-yeah, I did, love," she replied, her tone wavering just slightly. She forced a shy smile, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip, playing along with the act.
Raphael watched them, his smile thinning but never fading. "Oh?" he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "So, you're a couple. Interesting."
In the dim corner of the diner, Kaivan pulled out a chair with slow confidence. The sound of wood scraping against the floor mingled with the soft hum of surrounding chatter. Sitting beside Felicia, his posture was calm yet commanding, impossible to ignore. His gaze met Raphael's with quiet steadiness.
Then, with a smooth but deliberate motion, Kaivan extended his hand. His eyes locked onto Raphael's, unwavering, fearless.
"Kaivan," he said, his voice even, but firm beneath the calm. "Felicia's fiancé. And you are?"
Raphael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied Kaivan with unsettling focus. His dark eyes took in everything, the way Kaivan sat, the subtle movement of his hands, the faint control in his tone. After a long, heavy pause, Raphael finally reached out and shook his hand. His grip was strong, not out of courtesy, but as a quiet warning.
"Raphael," he replied flatly. His tone wasn't aggressive, but sharp enough to suggest he wasn't someone easily trusted. He released the handshake slowly, his gaze never leaving Kaivan's.
Felicia brushed her hair aside, a small motion that barely concealed her unease. The air around the table thickened, tension weaving itself between the two men, like chess players reading each other's next move.