Out here, things moved like clockwork, nothing like Vethara's chaos. Order took hold fast, as if muscle memory guided every brick and streetlight back into place. Once soldiers showed up, the transformation followed a familiar script. Banners of the alliance lined the central road, stiff in the breeze. Authority rolled by on broad avenues, sealed cars gliding past without stopping. You could feel it - this wasn't a recovery, just another turn in an old routine, people stepping into roles they'd worn too many times before.
From the south they came, working as traders - Orren handled the paperwork in Vethara, smooth and precise like he did everything else that involved planning - slipping into the city's rhythm with a dullness they'd sharpened during weeks of staying where they didn't belong, learning to stand there, present yet unseen.
Kael stood there, eyes on the command post they'd pinpointed earlier down the road. It used to be some kind of public office - big walls, wide doors. Flags from the coalition hung by the front steps. Guards came and went, their movements slow, practiced, like people tired of war but still stuck in its paperwork phase.
Inside, Auren stayed. Sureness came to Orren through how the workers moved - three full hours watched from a stall that traded in dried things, saying less than silence.
"There's a secondary entrance," Ysse said quietly. She had been watching the building's eastern side. "Supply access. Rotation gap of approximately four minutes between guard passes."
"We're not breaking in," Kael said.
"I know. I'm mapping options."
"We wait," Kael said. "Orren was right about the personal assessment. He'll go north. He'll go without the full retinue. We intercept on the road."
"And if he doesn't go," Bren said.
"He will leave," Kael stated.
He went.
Auren was riding ahead, just three riders now, sky low and roads damp under hooves after rain. Not far past dawn, near where the trail bends above Dorn's Crossing. The general kept steady, no banners flapping behind, treating it like business, not show. Out from between trees came Kael - no one else around - palms open, empty but for the weapon. He carried the spear across his body, emblem pointed straight at them.
The horse stopped.
One step shifted the aides - fingers near blades - as Auren lifted a palm, eyes locked past them, fixed on Kael. On the spear. On what it meant.
A breath held too long near the edge stretched out. That pause turned real, proving its hint right.
"I wondered," Auren said, "when you would find me."