They sat in the car, the soft hum of the engine a steady background noise to their thoughts, each lost in their own private world. The road grew rougher the closer they got, winding through dense, verdant forests, where the trees seemed to embrace the sky. The stone structure of the monastery eventually emerged, towering above the landscape like a silent sentinel, its weathered walls standing firm against the passage of time. The chirping of birds in the distance added a melodic layer to the stillness, as though the entire island held its breath.
As the car came to a halt in front of the ancient stone entrance, Dragnelle opened the door with measured movements, her hand steady against the frame as she slid out. Her cane, a constant companion, struggled to find purchase on the uneven stones beneath her feet. Mickaël noticed the slight hesitation in her step, his brow furrowing with subtle concern. He slowed his pace and glanced over his shoulder at her.
"I found this place a few years back, when I first moved to the island," Mickaël said, his voice softer than it had been during the drive. He paused for a moment, turning slightly to face her. "The monks have an extensive library. They let me use it whenever I felt…lonely." His eyes darkened briefly at the word, though the sadness was fleeting, quickly replaced by the familiar mask of cool composure.
Dragnelle's gaze lingered on his back for a moment longer than necessary, something flickering across her face—perhaps a momentary memory, a forgotten feeling, a faint echo of the past. But whatever it was, it was quickly buried beneath a soft, restrained smile, the kind she wore so effortlessly.
They walked together, but it wasn't the same walk as before—when their steps had once been in sync, moving as one, like two parts of a single whole. Now, there was distance between them, both physical and emotional. Still, Dragnelle's movements were graceful, even as she leaned heavily on the cane, her steps slow and measured as they crossed the threshold into the cool, shadowed interior of the monastery.
The scent of incense and aged wood filled the air, mingling with the soft sound of voices from somewhere deeper in the monastery. The dining hall ahead was peaceful, rows of monks sitting together in quiet reverence, their heads bowed as they shared a modest meal. The simplicity of the scene was jarring after the chaos of the outside world, and yet it carried a sense of calm that Dragnelle could appreciate.