Chapter 1: The Tavern
The rain had been kind all day—gentle, like a whisper—but as twilight settled and the lanterns flickered awake inside the tavern, the skies cracked open in a sudden downpour.
Wood groaned.
Roof tiles clattered.
Mud sloshed in the footprints of the last caravan that had passed an hour earlier.
Kio didn’t flinch.
He stood behind the counter, unperturbed, his hands moving with the quiet rhythm of ritual.
He polished a tankard, its pewter surface gleaming in the hearth’s low, amber glow.
The tavern—Trail’s End—hummed with stillness, a rare pause between the clamor of adventurers and the laughter of sated women.
No clinking glasses tonight.
No whispered boasts or tearful confessions.
Just the fire’s crackle and the rain’s relentless drum.