Silence, it turned out, was not empty.
It had weight. A kind of breathing stillness that pressed gently against the skin, like the pause between two heartbeats when the world holds its breath and waits to see if you're brave enough to move.
Verona noticed that first.
Not the retreat itself, not the way the land opened wide beneath the northern sky, nor the solitary lodge tucked near the mountainside, nor even the ancient tree standing guard above it all, roots thick and stubborn, branches spread as if they'd been holding the sky in place for centuries.
No. It was the silence.
She stepped down from the carriage and felt it settle around her shoulders like a shawl.
Elric watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. He didn't say anything at first. Just let her look.
The retreat lay nestled between ridges of stone and pine, far enough from the capital that even politics seemed reluctant to follow. Above it all stood a massive and old tree.
