The dirt road into Millshade stretched out like a dusty ribbon under the pale afternoon sun. The soil was packed hard and uneven, pocked with tiny stones and long cracks where thirsty roots had wrestled their way through. Every few steps, a sharp pebble jabbed into Auren's worn leather boot, reminding him how long it had been since he'd felt anything soft beneath his feet.

Overhead, a flock of sparrows darted from tree to tree, chirping as though engaged in a heated debate about the two newcomers. Their sharp, twittering voices bounced off the distant hills, making Auren feel like the subject of some avian tabloid.

He shuffled forward, clutching his ribs where the pain flared like angry embers. His tangled brown hair clung in clumps to his forehead, matted with dirt and dried blood. A pale scab the size of a coin peeked out from beneath the mess, half-hidden under the unruly strands. His boots dragged unevenly, a lopsided shuffle that looked more like a determined hobble.

Kaele marched ahead, her stride long and confident, as if her legs weren't a patchwork of bruises and scratches. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose braid that swung behind her like a banner, and her sharp green eyes scanned the path with practiced vigilance.

Auren shot her a glare that could've peeled bark off a tree. "You really know how to rub it in, don't you?"

Kaele didn't turn, but her voice carried back like a taunt. "Know what? That you're pathetic? Nah, I'm just trying to keep things interesting."

"Real funny," Auren muttered, forcing another painful step forward.

He stopped abruptly, bent over with a dry cough rattling his chest. He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed.

Kaele glanced back briefly, eyebrow raised. "You're not dying on me already, are you?"

"Barely surviving," he groaned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She grinned, the mischievous glint in her eye never fading. "You'll live. I'm too stubborn to lose a traveling companion who can't even keep up."

Auren huffed and pushed off the tree, limping onward. "You realize I'm still the one who saved your life back there, right?"

"Sure, sure," Kaele said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's not get dramatic."

Auren shot her another glare, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Come on," Kaele said, pointing ahead. "The village is just up the road."

They rounded a bend, and Millshade sprawled before them like a sleepy beast basking in the afternoon sun. The village had no walls or guards — just a scattering of timber houses with crooked, thatched roofs. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys, mingling with the scent of freshly tilled earth and wildflowers growing along the roadside.

Narrow lanes twisted through small vegetable gardens, and here and there, wooden carts rested by dusty paths. A handful of market stalls lined the main road, their faded awnings flapping gently in the breeze.

The smell of sizzling meat caught Auren's attention immediately, making his stomach growl loud enough to draw a few curious glances from passing villagers. A burly man with red-streaked hair flipped cuts of steak over a small iron grate, the smoke curling like lazy ribbons in the warm air.

Kaele's eyes lit up. She grabbed Auren's sleeve, nearly pulling him off his feet.

"Oi! Food!" she exclaimed, practically dragging him toward the stall. "We need it. Now."

Auren groaned, but his mouth watered as well. He glanced down at his bruised hands and dirt-smudged shirt.

"Fine," he grunted. "But if I keel over from eating bad meat, you're carrying the blame."

Kaele just laughed. "You're all talk."

At the stall, the merchant gave them a slow once-over. His arms were thick and scarred, and his skin was weathered by years of sun and smoke.

"Two steaks," Kaele ordered, slapping a fist on the counter.

The man nodded and called out, "Six bronze each."

Auren grimaced. He dug into the leather pouch strapped to his belt, the faint jingling of coins like an echo of Ryvek's kindness. He counted quickly — four silver, ninety-three bronze.

Kaele leaned in close, whispering, "You're rich. Stop pretending."

"Modestly supplied," Auren muttered.

"Same thing."

With a resigned sigh, Auren handed over twelve bronze pieces. The merchant wrapped the sizzling meat carefully in thick leaves and handed the bundles over.

Kaele tore into hers immediately, chewing with exaggerated gusto. Juices dribbled down her chin as she moaned happily. "Mmm! This is worth every damn coin."

Auren took a cautious bite, savoring the smoky richness. For a moment, the aching in his ribs quieted under the comfort of warm food.

They found a low stone wall near a well and sat down to eat. Around them, villagers moved about their business — a woman tending chickens, a boy chasing a scrawny dog, and a couple of small children who gawked wide-eyed at Kaele's spear strapped to her back.

Kaele finished first and tossed her leaf wrapper into a nearby cart.

"Right," she said, stretching with a satisfied groan. "Now we need a place to sleep. You can't exactly walk a straight line."

"I'm fine," Auren said through a mouthful of meat, wincing as he shifted. "I could sleep on the ground."

Kaele smacked him on the shoulder. "You could. But then you'd probably wake up dead."

With that, she tugged him toward the village inn — a squat building with a faded sign that creaked in the breeze: The Restful Bramble.

Inside, the air smelled of aged timber and pipe smoke, mixed with a faint hint of spiced cider. Behind the counter, a squat woman with wire-rimmed glasses knitted diligently, her fingers nimble despite the creases on her weathered hands.

Kaele dropped her spear with a thunk on the floor and asked, "One room. Two beds."

"Sixty bronze," the woman said flatly, eyes never leaving her knitting.

Auren groaned as he counted out the coins. The weight of the money in his pouch felt heavier with every piece.

After paying, they climbed the narrow stairs to their room — two narrow beds separated by a rickety table. A single window framed a view of the dusty courtyard, where a few scraggly chickens pecked among overturned pots.

Kaele dropped her pack and flopped face-first onto one of the beds. "Finally," she sighed. "If I don't get rest soon, I'm going to fall apart."

Auren collapsed onto the other bed, wincing as the hard mattress pressed against bruised ribs and aching muscles. Despite the discomfort, it was a welcome change from the dirt and rocks of the forest floor.

Kaele rolled onto her side and grinned. "So, you gonna talk about what happened? Or should I start guessing how many times you almost died?"

Auren stared at the ceiling, the rough beams casting strange shadows. "Nope."

"No mysterious brooding?"

"Definitely not."

Kaele groaned and turned away, already snoring softly within minutes.

Auren lay awake, exhaustion weighing heavy but sleep refusing. His mind kept circling back to the flickering shadow — the strange being from the Dreaming Veil.