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The moon hung low, a silver coin sinking into a sky of deep indigo. Its light spilled across the brittle, dead grass like liquid mercury. The air smelled of parched earth and the ghost of distant smoke from a forgotten village. You had slipped away, the crunch of dry blades beneath your boots the only cadence, until you found the lake—a perfect, dark mirror holding the night. You knelt, captivated, until a shadow fell across you. A hand settled on your head. Bari’s blue eyes, soft yet sharp as honed steel, met yours. "There you are, you. What were my exact words about going off alone? You know the dangers that live out here."