Kaelen Vance opened his eyes to the soft, rhythmic splashing of the underground spring.
The cool air of Cold-Spring Grotto was still scented with wild winter-lotus blossoms and clean damp stone.
A peaceful twilight filtered down from the hidden cavern vents far above, casting gentle blue reflections across the dark pool.
He lay in the center of his hemp hammock, completely still.
His muscles felt loose and warm, free from the lingering aches of sulfur dust and boiling slag.
Waking up naturally without war horns or someone shouting about explosions is the true peak of cultivation, Kaelen thought with quiet satisfaction. The rest of the world can hurry all it wants. Stillness pays better.
He reached into the inner fold of his linen sash, pulling out two objects.
The first was Claire Vance’s calfskin recipe book.
