By the time they reached the lower streets, the city had begun to wake properly.
Doors opened. Smoke rose thicker now.
The sound of footsteps layered over one another, uneven but steady, filling the spaces that had once been held by silence.
There was something else, too.
The air had changed.
The cold still lingered, brushing against the skin, settling into cloth, there was a softness that hadn't been there before. The sharp edge that once cut through every breath had dulled, replaced by something quieter, something that allowed the body to move without bracing itself first.
Gavril noticed it before anyone said a word.
"…Feels different," he muttered, adjusting the strap across his shoulder.
He rolled it once, testing the stiffness.
"Wasn't like this a few days ago."
Kaavi did not slow.
"Give it time. Places like this don't hold warmth for long. "he said.
Gavril huffed lightly.
"Yeah. Didn't think it would."
A brief pause followed.
"…Still. I'll take it while it lasts."
They passed through the streets without drawing attention.
A few eyes followed quietly, without recognition or curiosity strong enough to act on…but most people were already turned toward their own tasks, their own concerns.
The city was moving again.
And they were already leaving it behind.
The gates stood open.
Two guards lingered near the entrance; their posture relaxed in the way of men who had not yet decided whether the danger had truly passed. One of them glanced toward Kaavi as they approached, his gaze holding for a moment longer than necessary before shifting away again.
No questions were asked.
No words exchanged.
They stepped through.
Outside, the air opened.
The walls of Whitehold fell behind them, their height diminishing with each step until they no longer blocked the horizon. The land beyond stretched outward in uneven slopes and scattered trees, the morning light spreading across it without interruption.
The warmth lingered here, too.
Faint.
Temporary.
But present.
They had not gone far when Viktor noticed them.
Two figures, standing just beyond the road, beneath the wide spread of a lone tree whose branches caught the early light in broken patches.
Still. Waiting.
Kaavi saw them a moment later.
Joren stood with his weight balanced slightly to one side, the strain subtle but visible in the way his stance adjusted with stillness. Beside him, Veyl remained quiet, his posture straight, his attention fixed forward.
They stopped a few steps apart.
"I expected you earlier," Joren said.
"You were early," Kaavi replied.
A faint shift passed between them.
Not disagreement.
Just acknowledgment.
Joren's gaze moved briefly past Kaavi to Gavril, to Viktor before returning.
Then, without pause…
"Take Veyl with you."
The words were direct.
Unadorned.
Veyl did not move.
Kaavi's eyes shifted to him.
Assessing.
"Does the Baron know?" he asked.
Joren nodded.
"He does."
A short breath followed.
"He agreed."
Silence settled for a moment.
Joren's hand lifted slightly…resting, not gripping…just touching briefly against Veyl's shoulder before dropping again.
"He shouldn't stay here," he said.
"There's more beyond this place," he continued. "He should see it while he can."
A pause.
Then, quieter,
"Before it becomes harder to leave."
The words held something beneath them.
Veyl's gaze remained forward.
But there was a shift in it now…something sharper, more aware.
Kaavi watched him for a moment longer.
Then...
"You understand what comes with leaving?" he asked.
Veyl nodded.
"I do."
He didn't elaborate.
Didn't need to.
Gavril stepped forward then, resting his hand briefly against Joren's shoulder.
"He'll manage," he said. "I'll keep him breathing."
Kaavi glanced toward him.
Gavril shrugged.
"What?" he said. "Thought I had a say in this."
The corner of Joren's mouth shifted slightly.
Not quite a smile.
Kaavi exhaled quietly.
Then looked back at Veyl.
"Stay close," he said.
That was all.
Joren gave a single nod.
No thanks.
A moment passed.
Viktor glanced around briefly before looking back at Joren.
"…The others didn't come," he said.
Joren's expression changed then.
"They're not good with goodbyes," he said…
Viktor nodded once.
That settled it.
They turned.
And began walking.
At first, nothing changed.
The road stretched ahead. The air moved lightly across the land. The sound of their steps returned, steady, unbroken.
Behind them...
Joren remained where he stood.
They did not look back.
For a while, there was only distance.
"Veyl."
The voice carried. Loud, clear.
They slowed.
Joren hadn't moved.
"Eat well, brother."
The word landed between them.
"See what's out there."
His voice held steady "And come back with stories worth hearing."
Veyl's head dipped slightly.
His hand rose. Slowly.
"I will."
A breath followed.
"…Thank you."
His hand lowered.
And he kept walking.
They all did.
Behind them, Joren did not call again.
He stood…until distance made them smaller.
Then smaller still.
Until they were gone.