And now, according to Ridan…
He and Ridan would be leaving Macia town soon.
The thought lingered like an aftertaste.
He didn't know when.
Ridan wouldn't say.
Just kept floating near him, smiling that unreadable smile, whispering things like "It's time." or "Soon."
He sat quietly in the corner of the restaurant, sipping his tea as the kids laughed and argued over second and third plates.
They deserved it.
They earned it.
And yet—
His hand clenched slightly around the cup.
When he left… who would protect them?
He'd already done what he could.
The orphanage had been repaired—new walls, a new roof, proper beds at last.
He made sure Kisha opened a bank account.
Over twenty gold coins sat inside—enough for years.
Good food, warm clothes, maybe even school if the town permitted it.
He even helped reinforce the fences.
Ridan had woven spells into the wooden posts—ancient scripts that pulsed faintly in the dark.
