The days following the clan council meeting were quiet but heavy with unspoken tension. Though no one confronted us openly, I could feel the eyes that lingered a little too long as we walked through the markets or visited the nearby well. Sous was vibrant and alive with customs and culture I had never seen before—but beneath the noise of its trade and the colors of its banners, the divide between insiders and outsiders was undeniable.
We moved to the plot of land assigned to us, just beyond the outer gates of the city. It was not isolated, but distant enough to mark the separation. The land was uneven, the soil dry but workable. The laborers sent by Kadar worked diligently to raise the frame of our new home. I spent my days among them, helping however I could—lifting wood, hauling water, hammering joints until my hands were sore and blistered. I wanted them to see me not just as a stranger under protection, but as someone willing to build something with his own hands.
Elara managed our little camp as the structure came together, keeping Lily calm and safe. She had grown quieter since our move to Sous, but strong in a way I hadn't seen before. The pregnancy had given her something to hold on to. And I, too, found a strange comfort in that fragile new hope.
One evening, as the sun dipped low over the tribal walls of Sous, Nabeel came by with a wrapped bundle. Inside were hand-woven garments and a curved dagger—an ornamental blade common among Qitt Clan members.
"You'll need this," he said, handing the dagger to me. "Not for fighting. It's ceremonial. If you're going to live here, the people need to see you wearing it. It's a symbol—your place within the clan, and a promise to protect it."
I accepted it with both hands and bowed slightly in respect. That night, sitting outside the unfinished home, I looked out toward the town, its fires flickering in the distance. For the first time in months, I felt something like stability taking root. Fragile, uncertain—but real.
Still, I hadn't received another message from Chara since the last one. Every day I wondered what had happened to Eric. Was he alive? Did the delay buy him more time, or had time already run out?
I couldn't let myself dwell on it too long. There was too much to do here, and too many depending on me. I wasn't the same twelve-year-old who stumbled into this world. Not anymore.
This place—Sous—it might never feel like home. But for now, it was where we would live. And maybe, just maybe, survive.