They walked together through the back alleys of Velmira, moving past cracked stone walls, crooked signs, and the smell of salt and smoke.
For once, William didn't feel like he was running.
He was following.
After about ten minutes of weaving through back alleys and slipping past guards, the group finally reached a quiet part of Velmira—where the noise of the city faded behind weathered stone and crooked fences.
Ben led them to a small wooden house tucked behind a patch of wild garden. The roof sagged slightly. The windows were dusty. But the door was sturdy, and the place had the rare feel of home.
Daemon looked it over with a curious eye. "You live here alone?"
Ben shook his head. "No. My wife still runs this place. And my son's been here lately too."
"Your son?" Daemon asked.
Ben's smile faded. "Yeah… he's not doing well."
He stepped up to the door, hand lingering on the knob before continuing.
