As they approached the road, the change was immediate. The narrow, overgrown path gave way to something clearly shaped by use; packed earth worn smooth by countless travelers, its edges maintained just enough to keep the forest at bay. The trees no longer pressed in so tightly. Instead, they seemed to pull back, allowing the road to breathe.

Sunlight filtered more easily here, breaking through the cloud cover in soft, diffused beams that reached the ground in pale streaks. Along the edges of the road, clusters of wildflowers had taken root, small bursts of color against the greens and browns of the forest.

Kyrie slowed slightly as her eyes caught on them. White and soft lavender blooms, delicate and familiar. Her brow furrowed faintly. They were the same flowers that had sat in the clay pot on the tavern windowsill. She didn’t say anything, but the recognition lingered quietly in the back of her mind.

The morning stretched on from there in a surprisingly steady rhythm. Conversation came and went in low, easy tones, drifting between small groups as they walked. It wasn’t loud or animated, but it was… normal. Comforting, in its own way.

Every so often, they rotated who pulled the cart. The soldiers took most of the burden without complaint, but the others stepped in where they could. Casey took a turn with a determined sort of stubbornness, while Nikolaus himself stepped forward at one point, taking the handles without ceremony.

Even Patrick and Phillip made an effort, though their technique was… less refined.

Somewhere along the way, they also began picking up pieces of the local language. A word here. A phrase there. Testing sounds quietly under their breath, occasionally earning a nod, or a faint smirk, from one of the soldiers when they got it right.

By the time the sun had climbed higher, what felt close to midday, the group slowed. One of the soldiers veered slightly off the road, guiding the cart toward a small clearing just beyond the treeline.

The space looked intentional. A simple wooden structure stood there, open on three sides with a slanted roof overhead, offering shade and shelter without walls. Nearby, a fire pit sat ringed with stones, its center darkened from frequent use. At one corner of the clearing, a tall wooden pole rose from the ground, a gray-blue banner hanging limp in the still air.

A raven was stitched into its center. The same emblem that marked Nikolaus’s cloak.

Relief rippled quietly through the group. Backpacks were shrugged off with soft thuds, shoulders rolling as people stretched sore muscles. The strain of the walk had settled into them more than most had realized.

“Okay… yeah,” Casey muttered, dropping her bag and flexing her fingers. “We are definitely not built for this.”

Amanda laughed softly, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Speak for yourself. I am built for this… just not today.”

Nearby, David exhaled as he set his gear down more carefully, while Jennifer sank onto the edge of the wooden structure with visible gratitude.

The soldiers moved with quiet efficiency, already preparing the space. Someone rekindled the fire pit while another began organizing supplies from the cart.

Nikolaus stepped away from the group briefly, his attention shifting to the surrounding greenery. He crouched near the edge of the clearing, scanning the plants with a practiced eye. After a moment, he reached down and plucked a few leaves and stems, turning them in his fingers before lifting them to his nose.

He inhaled once, then nodded faintly to himself. Returning to the fire, he set a small kettle over the growing flames before taking a seat near its edge, the herbs still in hand.

Kyrie watched him for a moment, curiosity pulling her closer. She moved to sit beside him, resting her arms lightly on her knees as she leaned in just enough to observe without interrupting.

Nikolaus glanced over, catching her interest, and offered a small, easy smile. Without a word, he reached over and unhooked the metal cup from her belt, then did the same with his own. He set both down between them.

The herbs were rolled gently between his palms, releasing their scent, before he divided them between the two cups. By then, the water had begun to steam. He lifted the kettle and poured carefully, the hot liquid darkening the leaves as it filled each cup.

“Let that sit for a few minutes,” he said, setting one beside her.

Kyrie smiled, the gesture small but genuine. She lifted the cup slightly by the wrapped handle, breathing in the rising steam. The scent was unfamiliar, but warm. Earthy, with a hint of sweetness beneath it. “It smells wonderful,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Nikolaus inclined his head slightly, settling back as he let the tea steep.

For a little while, the tension of everything they’d been through seemed to loosen its grip. The quiet murmur of conversation, the crackle of the fire, the scent of brewing herbs drifting through the air; it all blended into something unexpectedly peaceful.

For a moment, it didn’t feel like they were lost in another world. It felt like a break on a long hike. A shared rest between travelers. Almost like camping. Almost like normal. And that, more than anything, made it feel fragile.

Kyrie waited, watching Nikolaus out of the corner of her eye. When he finally reached for his cup, she took that as her cue. She lifted her own carefully, blowing across the surface before taking a cautious sip.

Warmth spread through her almost immediately. The taste was unfamiliar; earthy, slightly sweet, but pleasant. It cut through the lingering damp in the air, settling somewhere deep in her chest.

“Okay… yeah,” she murmured softly. “That’s good.”

The cloak around her shoulders did most of the work, though. She shifted slightly, appreciating again how well it held in warmth while shedding the morning mist. Just as Nikolaus had promised.

A drop of water slid from the brim of her hat, falling in a slow, steady line before landing in the dirt at her feet with a soft, darkened mark. Kyrie watched it absently for a moment. Then glanced back toward Nikolaus, curiosity returning. She opened her mouth—

—and was immediately interrupted.

“You guys gotta see this!” Patrick came jogging up from the road, practically vibrating with excitement. “There’s a little green guy,” he said, gesturing back the way he came, “with a donkey and a wagon, he’s coming this way!”

Nikolaus rose smoothly to his feet, lifting his tea for one last sip before setting it down on a nearby stone. “That would be a boglan,” he said calmly. “Likely a merchant.” He offered Kyrie a hand.

She smiled and took it, letting him help her up before setting her cup beside his. “Guess we’re about to find out,” she said.

Together, they moved toward the edge of the clearing.