Strings of Fate

"Hm, I see. Well, thank you, Enya. You can go and rest. We have a lot of traveling to do tomorrow, no?"

Enya nodded, then politely excused herself, heading back to a tent she had set up not far from the hot spring.

Caine was left alone with his thoughts.

There were quite a few things he needed to do—perhaps "quite a few" didn't even do justice to the sheer enormity of what lay ahead. The list of tasks he had planned was endless, overwhelming, even.

But all of it would begin once he reached the capital. For now, all he could do was rest and…

'Interesting.'

Caine raised his hand to eye level. Despite his lack of eyes, he could still see—strangely, more clearly than ever.

He could no longer perceive the strings, runes, and tapestry of existence as he once did. But none of that mattered now. What captured his attention were his hands.