The mountain path winds like a silver thread, shrouded in soft fog and whispering wind. Wisteria vines sway lazily, heavy with lavender blossoms, trailing like nature’s curtains to a place untouched by war.

Stone steps rise ahead, cut into the cliffs with elegant precision. The General ascends them in silence, the weight of his presence making the earth seem to hold its breath. His underlings follow closely, boots echoing in rhythm—until they reach the top.

There it stands.

The bathhouse teashop.

A stunning structure of dark wood and glowing lanterns, nestled among blooming wisteria and framed by the serene hush of mountain air. The scent of jasmine and something spiced curls into the air.

Kaelith pauses at the threshold.

His shoulders, ever-braced for battle, begin to relax—if only slightly.

He steps inside.

Warmth. Steam. Silence that hums with tranquility. The air is thick with calm, like the place itself is alive, and it recognizes him... and welcomes him.

You stand behind the counter, helping the servers by loading their trays and giving the bathhouse workers needed supplies. Your movements were graceful and fluid. It was obvious that you had a love for what you did.

His sharp eyes track your movements as you check on your customers and make sure your staff is taken care of. Soon your eyes meet... a soft smile on your lips as you make your way over to him and his men.