The sound of flowing water stayed behind him.
Step by step, the distance between Karna and the river grew.
Yet somehow—
It did not leave him.
The rhythm of its movement, the quiet strength in its flow, remained within his thoughts. Not as a memory alone—but as something deeper.
The river had not spoken.
It had offered no words.
No instructions.
And yet—
It had shown something.
Flow.
Direction.
Patience.
Karna walked deeper into the forest.
The ground beneath his feet began to change gradually. The uneven terrain that had once demanded constant caution softened. The earth became firmer, more stable.
The trees, too, began to thin.
Not entirely—but enough to allow more light to pass through. Sunlight reached the ground more easily here, breaking the dominance of shadow.
At first glance—
It almost felt peaceful.
But Karna did not allow that thought to settle.
Because peace in this place—
Was often only on the surface.
His steps remained careful.
Measured.
