Kael didn't realize how far he'd gone until the terrain changed again.
The fractured stone thinned into packed earth marked by old movement—tracks that weren't fresh, but not ancient either. Gates left scars like that. Not openings. Aftereffects.
He slowed.
Not because of danger.
Because of absence.
The silence around him lingered naturally now. Not something he was invoking—something that followed. His steps should have echoed faintly against stone.
They didn't.
Kael frowned slightly.
So it stayed.
He tested it without forcing anything, nudging a pebble forward with his foot. It bounced twice, quiet but audible. When he stepped again, the sound thinned.
Selective.
He straightened and moved on.
Signs of recent activity appeared quickly—broken brush, disturbed soil, dried traces of blood. Not monsters.
People.
Kael stopped at the edge of a shallow basin.
"You're not subtle," a familiar voice said. "You're just missing."
He turned.
Lysa stood a short distance away, pale gold hair tied back, muted green eyes already scanning the ground around him. Her posture was relaxed, but not careless.
"You noticed," Kael said.
She snorted softly. "Hard not to. The ground remembers where sound should be."
She looked up at him fully now.
"So," she continued, "either you walked out of a collapsed gate again…"
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the fractured basin.
"…or the world's decided to start lying."
Kael didn't answer.
Lysa studied him for a moment longer, then exhaled.
"You survived," she said. "That's new."
"For you?" Kael asked.
"For anyone," she replied.
She stepped closer, stopping just short of where sound seemed to thin unnaturally.
"You didn't announce yourself," Lysa said quietly. "That's not something people learn."
Kael met her gaze. "Neither is listening."
That earned a faint smile.
"So it's not just coincidence," she said. "Good to know."
She turned slightly, eyes on the ruined ground.
"I'll file the report the same way I did last time," Lysa added. "Collapse. No interference."
Kael looked at her. "And why are you doing that?"
Lysa glanced back, expression sharp but not hostile.
"Because House Veyl doesn't like reacting to things it doesn't understand," she said. "And because if this keeps happening…"
Her gaze dropped, briefly, to his empty hands.
"…you're going to need more than quiet feet."
She took a step back.
"Don't make me regret covering for you twice," Lysa said.
Then she turned and walked away.
This time, Kael heard her footsteps clearly.
When she was gone, the silence returned.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."