The sky was still dark, soft and silver-blue. The haze of sleep clung to the air like mist.
Seti stood quietly, watching the Haja prepare the camels and supplies. They moved with silent precision, gliding to and fro like shadows. He observed them for a moment longer, then turned away and made his way to the field his usual training grounds.
Alone now, he took a deep breath and exhaled. The morning air was sharp and cold, but it carried a crisp purity.
He began to move.
Starting from the basic mortal warrior stance, he eased into familiar forms: the Dance of the Elephant, then the Leaping Gazelle.
He danced with Gravity his usual partner. Resisting then opposing.
And then, as always, it stirred his magic.
Usually, training emptied his mind. But not anymore. Lately, Caspian, his magic, his energy lingered there in his mind. The more time he spent near the Ten'Kaar, the more aware he became of him.
Caspian's magic burned like a living flame at the edge of his consciousness impossible to ignore.
Seti didn't understand what to make of it. This strange awareness. This constant presence. He tried to return to his practice, grounding himself in movement, in breath. He was only half successful.
"Very impressive, Brother," came a familiar voice light and clear, like bells in the morning.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her approach.
He didn't stop. His form continued: a leg thrust forward, a smooth fall to one side, his left hand catching his weight as he lifted himself back into balance.
"I want to go with you today," she said, her voice unusually serious.
He shifted his weight to his right hand, legs rising into the air with practiced control.
"I passed," she added. "I worked hard for years to pass this test. I deserve to go. I have the elders' blessing."
"Our parents do not wish it," Seti replied calmly, still focused on his movement.
"They refuse to see my strength," she snapped. "I want to go, Brother. Please."
"No, Sister. Our parents..."
"I should have known," she cut in, voice tightening. "You're always like this. So steady. So cold. A piece of wood, that's what you are."
She jabbed a finger at him, eyes narrowed.
Seti said nothing.
With a frustrated hmph, she turned and began to walk away. But midway, she spun back her leg swept high, sending a sharp gust of wind slicing toward him.
Seti dropped low, body nearly flat to the ground. The wind passed above him.
Another kick came.
He lifted himself on his other arm, dodging again with ease.
Then she walked away for real.
It was just before dusk when Seti knocked on Caspian's door.
With a groan, Caspian slid off the bed and padded toward it, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He opened the door to find Seti standing there, an armful of scrolls in his grasp.
"Good morning," Seti said simply.
"Good morning," Caspian croaked, voice rough from sleep.
Seti stepped forward. Caspian moved aside, wordlessly letting him in.
Without pause, Seti crossed to the small desk by the wall and set the scrolls down, immediately unrolling one. His movements were brisk, efficient, already locked into purpose.
Caspian blinked, still groggy. He didn't understand how Seti could be so alert. So composed.
"We have only limited time," Seti said, eyes on the map.
The words hit like cold water. A sharp reminder of Caspian's situation the weight of it pressing back into his chest as the fog of sleep receded.
Caspian approached the desk just as Seti began to speak again.
"I've assessed the current information on the landscape. It will be hard to reach the capital within "
"A month," Caspian finished for him.
Seti nodded, opening another scroll. "Hard, but not impossible."
Caspian's eyes tracked the slender finger that traced over the faded map lines.
"We'll take the unofficial paths," Seti explained. "Shorter, more dangerous. There's the risk of bandits, but we'll avoid the larger cities at least until we reach here."
His finger stopped at a large dot.
Sylvaris.
The sprawling city just before the capital. Unavoidable.
Seti kept talking, pointing out routes, fallback plans, safehouses. But at some point, Caspian stopped listening. He just watched him. Watched the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tensed with focus.
He looked like a general on the eve of war.
Despite all of Caspian's misgivings which still lingered like smoke in the lungs it was strangely comforting to have someone like Seti on his side.
"Be ready," Seti said, rolling up the last scroll. "We ride as soon as the sun peaks."
Caspian nodded, and just like that, Seti turned and left.
The door clicked shut.
Caspian exhaled. A quiet, heavy sound.
He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside.
He lowered himself into the chair with a groan.
The cracks hadn't grown. Not visibly. But the red was blooming spreading across his torso like roots, like veins, like tiny windows into something burning beneath.
They looked like peeks into hell.