Kyrian followed the mysterious man through the alleys of the Caravan of the Sky.
Neither of them spoke. The silence between them was not uncomfortable; it was neither the tense silence of enemies observing each other nor the awkward silence of strangers forced to coexist.
It was a cautious silence. The silence of two people evaluating one another within their own minds.
The bustling streets of the commercial district gradually faded behind them.
First, the stalls became fewer, the vibrant colors of the tents giving way to the gray walls of older buildings.
Then, the cries of the merchants, that cacophony of offers and promotions, turned into distant echoes, muffled by the distance and the surrounding structures.
The scent of medicinal herbs, which had previously dominated the air, mixing with the fragrance of incense and street food, gave way to the damp smell of ancient stone and aged wood.
The man walked calmly ahead.
