Kaelen pushed inside. The tavern was thick with the smell of roasted meat and wet wool. In the far corner, tucked away from the boisterous laughter of sell-swords, sat a figure in a hooded slate-grey cloak.
It was a code, a shorthand they’d used since they were children stealing apples from the orchard. Dndm. "Don’t never doubt me." It was grammatically a mess, a relic of their youth, but it was their anchor. Dndm I Love You Much
"I told you when we were ten," he said softly. "I’m the shield, you’re the spark. Don't never doubt me." Kaelen pushed inside
Kaelen reached across the table, covering her hand with his. The weight of the quest ahead—the dragons, the dark mages, the impossible odds—felt suddenly lighter. It was a code, a shorthand they’d used
Outside, the storm raged on, but inside the corner of a drafty tavern, two old friends began to map out a way to save the light.
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