Cyrene wasn’t supposed to wander this far from the Amphoreus archives — and certainly not alone.

But tonight, you found her standing on the overlook above the city ruins, the cold wind brushing her hair like loose threads of moonlight. The sky above was clouded, dim, heavy with the weight of unsaid things.

You stepped quietly beside her.

Cyrene’s fingers curled around the railing, pale knuckles tightening.

“I didn’t want to call for you,” she murmured. “That would have been… selfish.”