The lake lay quiet beneath the dwarven sky.
Its surface was smooth as polished glass, reflecting the copper glow of distant forge-smoke drifting lazily across the horizon. Stone reeds lined the water's edge—mineral growths shaped by centuries of mana saturation—while faint warmth radiated up from the ground, keeping the air comfortable despite the mountain chill.
Luca walked slowly along the shoreline.
Not training.
Not thinking too hard.
Just… waiting.
His footsteps were measured, unhurried, crutches no longer in his hands. The black bracelet rested against his wrist, dormant and silent. Every few steps, he glanced at the lake as if expecting the water itself to speak back.
Then—
Footsteps.
Not heavy.
Not hurried.
Luca stopped and turned.
She stood a short distance away.
