The midday air on the upper terraces bit exposed skin. It carried the sharp scent of pine and the metallic tang of the mana-filtering arrays cycling overhead.
Vane and Valerica walked from the cafe.
Their boots struck the flagstones. The rhythm was synchronized. A week ago, their steps would have been a jagged clash of territories—the Rat fighting the Sun for space. Now, the friction was gone.
They moved as a unit. Valerica drifted closer to his centerline than usual. Vane didn't correct her path. They occupied the walkway with the casual arrogance of apex predators who knew the jungle wouldn't challenge them.
They reached the junction leading toward the Combat Pavilion.
The rest of the circle waited.
Ashe leaned against a stone pillar, tossing a dagger and catching it by the blade. Isole stood in the shade, her mismatched eyes tracking the mana currents in the air.
Between them stood Isaac Glacium.
Vane stopped.
The boy had changed.
