Kyrian carefully stored the scrolls away, organizing them within his spatial ring, separating the original from the copies, the notes from the studies.
That was when he heard footsteps from the other side of the door.
The man had awakened.
Kyrian put on a simple violet robe, the newest among those he had purchased in Red Smoke City, still carrying the scent of fresh fabric.
Then he left the room.
The gentle aroma of tea immediately filled the air.
Not the strong, astringent tea from the previous day, with its earthy and complex notes.
But a lighter tea, floral and delicate, with a hint of honey. The small table had already been prepared.
Two white porcelain cups, painted with cherry blossoms, steamed quietly.
The man was seated.
He looked tired, more so than the day before, more than when Kyrian had first seen him.
Dark circles beneath his eyes. Slightly paler skin. Yet calm.
"Come."
Kyrian approached.
