Navir slowed near the stone causeway.“Do you see them?” Ravash murmured.Navir nodded. “I see everyone.”The Luho stood apart: ash-toned skin catching light, blue-black hair bound clean, diamond eyes calm. One smiled faintly, as if crowds were weather.Torin leaned close. “They look relaxed.”“Move,” Tarefin said, urging him forward.The hall swallowed them. Marble echoed steps. Elders lined the walls, copper skin taut, red eyes measuring. Nobles whispered behind jeweled hands.The hall drew them in. Polished wood creaked underfoot, every step carried by the high rafters. Carved pillars lined the walls, freshly oiled, meant to impress without warmth. The Local Elders stood along the sides, copper skin drawn tight, red eyes weighing every movement. Nobles clustered behind them, Antari fire bands flashing as they leaned close to whisper.“They’ll make an example,” someone breathed loud enough to sting.“Of who?” Samaveh asked.Ardavan didn’t look up. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, calm,

The cane halted midair.Footsteps crossed the street, unhurried, amused. Voices carried laughter, soft and curious. Navir lifted his head just enough to see them, ash-toned skin catching the amber light, blue-black flowing smoothly, diamond eyes bright with interest rather than fear.One of the Luho elders chuckled. “You Argathes have excellent posture lessons.”A murmur ran through the compound.An Argathe elder stiffened. “They are being punished.”“Of course,” the Luho replied calmly, hands folded behind his back. “We discipline too. Children wander. Curiosity happens.”Another Luho leaned in, smiling. “But you treat curiosity like treason.”“What exactly have they done?” The Eldest Luho asked, his walking stick stomping the dirt.The power grid sparked, startling everyone.“They tampered with the power grid.” The Argathe adult replied.“We didn't do it.” Nimi screamed in defiance.“Yeah. We didn't.” Ardavan added, eyes hot with repressed anger.“Then why do you treat them so harsh

The street stayed frozen after the blow.The boy’s whimper echoed in the void.“Enough,” the woman said softly, her words uneven.The boy's whimper faded gradually.Navir watched her nod again, smaller this time. “They meant to instill fear.” Navir murmured to himself.Torin muttered under his breath, “Did you see that? She didn’t even argue.”“Don’t,” Ardavan warned quietly. “Not here.”A youth near the wall whispered, “He just asked a question.”“Hush,” another replied, eyes down. “Do you want more?”Navir exhaled slowly. “She’s broken,” he murmured.Sorvan’s voice came low at his side, facing his brother. “That’s the lesson…. For all of us.”He returned his gaze.Across the street, an elder hissed to another, “They’re watching.”“Let them,” came the reply. “They’ll always watch.”Silence stretched taut.“It will pass,” someone said, though without conviction.Navir’s jaw tightened. “The system,” he said quietly. “It cracks when people hesitate.”Sorvan glanced at him. “Careful.”N

Navir sat on a wooden chair behind the low wall, eyes fixed on the courtyard. Lost in thought.The evening breeze howls followed the rustling of leaves.Navir's eyes wandered to his neighbor and her son at the other end of the courtyard.The boy’s voice wavered.“Mother… why do the elders punish smart children?”“That is… respect,” her mother said, her voice tight, clipped.“But it doesn’t look like respect,” the boy pressed.“Your eyes are too young,” she replied, sharp.“And… why do they always disappear?” he asked, whispering, leaning forward.“Because this land is heavy,” she said, her jaw tightening.“And… what if someone keeps asking?”She paused, gaze hardening, fingers tightening around the cup she held. “You want to end up like Mehrak?”The words hung between them. The boy’s small frame stiffened, his breath hitched, his shoulders folding inward as if the question alone pressed him down. His hands fidgeted at his lap.Navir's chest tightened as a cold shiver ran down his sp

Morning leaked through fractured skylights, dust turning light dull inside the abandoned mall, shuttered since the curfews. Concrete swallowed sound. Windows faced alleys, not streets. Safe enough.Navir said softly. “So that's how you got there. The Wasteland.”Tarefin’s back leaned against the pillar, head low, composed, hair reaching his napes. Bare chest visible beneath his white shirt. “It doesn't host the dead.”Samaveh nodded. “You said it watched.”“Yes,” Tarefin replied. “Pressure, heat, wind. As if alignment mattered more than life.”Navir’s brow lifted. “That sounds… supernatural.”Tarefin tilted his head up, blinking, genuinely puzzled. “I don’t follow.” Samaveh smiled, turning to Tarefin, gently. “It’s a genre in recent movies.”Turning to Navir, she said. “Tarefin here is a little old school.” Navir exhaled briefly.“Why you?” He said turning to Tarefin.“I asked the wrong questions,” Tarefin said. “At school. At home. Everywhere.”“And now?” Ardavan asked.Tarefin rem