He didn't say a word as he sat across from her. He simply laid the note on the scarred wooden table.
The rain wasn’t just falling in the city of Oakhaven; it was grieving. Beneath the flickering glow of a single arcane streetlamp, Kaelen stood outside the heavy oak doors of the "Silver Tankard" tavern. In his hand, he clutched a crumpled piece of parchment, the ink slightly bled from the damp air.
Kaelen pushed inside. The tavern was thick with the smell of roasted meat and wet wool. In the far corner, tucked away from the boisterous laughter of sell-swords, sat a figure in a hooded slate-grey cloak. Dndm I Love You Much
She squeezed his hand back, the flicker of hope returning to her eyes. "I never did. I just needed to hear you say it one more time."
It was a code, a shorthand they’d used since they were children stealing apples from the orchard. Dndm. "Don’t never doubt me." It was grammatically a mess, a relic of their youth, but it was their anchor. He didn't say a word as he sat across from her
Elara let out a shaky breath, a small, sad smile breaking through her exhaustion. "The world isn't ending, Kael. Just my part in it. They’re coming for the seal. I couldn't keep it safe alone."
"I found the messenger, the mountain pass, and about six different ways to get myself killed," Kaelen replied, his voice raspy but warm. "But you said 'Dndm.' You don't say that unless the world is ending." Beneath the flickering glow of a single arcane
The figure reached out, a pale hand trembling slightly as she pulled back her hood. Elara’s eyes were tired, framed by the shadows of a woman who had been running for far too long. She looked at the note, then at him. "You found the messenger," she whispered.