The walk from Crane Ridge Villa to the Sect Square should have been uneventful since it was the early morning, with the haze of dew clinging to the thatched rooftops and the narrow cobbled roads. The town hadn't fully awoken, and one could see shopkeepers sweeping out their thresholds, sleeping guards shifting comfortably at their posts, and working civilians going about their routines.
And then they all noticed Damon.
The first sign was subtle, being an old woman who was clutching a laundry bundle suddenly stopping mid-step, her eyes widening faintly as Damon passed. Her hand trembled slightly, the cloth slipping from her grasp without her realizing.
A carriage driver froze as he guided his horses across the intersection since one of the animals suddenly reared with its nostrils flaring, sensing something it could not see, but only feel.
The driver's assistant swore under his breath. "What the hell was that…"
