"Now be on your way," Ysara said, her tone carrying that particular brand of finality that didn't invite response. "The bus will return in two days. Do your best… to stay alive."
There was something deeply unsettling about the way she said it.
Not like encouragement. Not like the words a mentor offers before sending someone into danger with the genuine hope they'll return from it.
More like a quiet test she expected us to fail.
I watched her face for something, a flicker of concern, a shadow of guilt, anything human, and found nothing I could hold onto.
I looked away.
A low mechanical hum cut through the air.
Then it appeared.
A red bus rolled into the courtyard, moving at a pace that felt unhurried in a way that wasn't quite peaceful. Its surface was too clean, almost aggressively pristine against the muted stone tones of the courtyard.
It didn't look old, but it didn't look new either.
