Eren moved swiftly through the lower city district, trading silver-embroidered cloak for simple garments. What had seemed peaceful from afar revealed its distress as Eren ventured deeper.
Outside a modest home, villagers gathered around a fallen elk, its once-luminescent markings faded to ash. A child knelt beside it, small hands searching for life that had already fled.
'Just like my vision,' Eren thought, approaching the group.
"How long has it been ill?" Eren asked, kneeling beside the child.
An older woman with copper earrings—the district's senior water-keeper—stepped forward. "Since yesterday. First weakness, then breathing troubles." Her eyes widened with recognition. "Princess Eren!"
She dropped into a deep bow, others following suit. Eren quickly gestured for them to rise.
'I guess I'm getting used to this "she" and "princess" thing,' Eren thought to himself, though the words still carried an unfamiliar weight after so many years spent defining his own identity.
