Lumeria appeared on the horizon after six days of steady travel—the same sprawling city Marron had left months ago, but somehow different now. Or maybe she was the different one.
The Champion walked beside her, unbothered by the increasing traffic as they approached the city gates. She drew stares—her living-bark cloak, her weathered presence, the obvious power of the Verdant Mortar at her hip—but ignored them all with the ease of someone who'd long ago stopped caring what strangers thought.
"You're nervous," the Champion observed.
"Is it obvious?"
"Your hand keeps moving to your pack. Checking that the tools are still there." The Champion's expression was amused. "They're not going anywhere."
"I know. It's just..." Marron looked at the city walls, the guard towers, the massive gates that controlled entry to Lumeria proper. "Last time I was here, I was nobody. Just a cook with a cart, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life."
"And now?"
