A year went by...
Kael's descent used to be a slow, hateful crawl, feet slipping on loose shale, fingers burning from clinging too long, lungs dragging cold air like it was made of needles. A year ago, every meter down the mountain felt like a negotiation with gravity where gravity always won.
Now he moved as if the mountain belonged to him.
He dropped from cliff edge to cliff edge with the casual confidence of something that had fallen a thousand times and finally learned how not to die doing it.
His hands didn't search for holds anymore, they picked them. Two fingers hooked into cracks that looked like they were carved for insects, not men. His boots barely touched stone before he was already shifting weight, already committing to the next jump, and he did it without looking down like the drop was beneath his dignity.
