Semua Bab My marriage was for money, his for vengeance: Bab 131 - Bab 140

5:49 AM — Sector Q, Dewfell RiseMorning dawned with the smell of moss and iron. Sector Q's steep ridge received the first splash of golden mist, running sideways through arched trellises long reoccupied by vine.Elira stood where the slope started, her boots firm on wet stone. The slope wasn't dangerous, but it needed attention."Too soon for stumbles," Caelan whispered behind her, realigning his balance pack.She extended her hand silently, not because he required it—but because the way, today, suggested dual steps.Side by side, they climbed the incline.---7:20 AM — Sector S, Braidharvest CourtyardThe courtyard was busy, but not frantic.Fiber bundles had been collected from eastward reed terraces. Young teams pulled the dew-soaked strands into rope. Some ropes would be used for lifting. Others for tying down. One, someone breathed, was to be laid ceremoniously at a boundary line.Elira sat in a quiet cluster, braiding with sure fingers. A girl next to her stumbled over the rhyt

5:41 AM — Sector D, Grainwake RouteMorning dawned pale but orderly. Sector D's central avenue—Grainwake Route—had been re-stamped during the night, new tread patterns woven into worn grain. The lines weren't aesthetic; they were navigational aids.They didn't talk again until the path dropped into dew.---7:03 AM — Sector H, Ashroll TerracesMist blanketed itself over the terraces once more, a gentle erasure that left space for today.Elira knelt next to a half-obscured signpost. She wiped it clean. Under the soot was a carved name: Kailo—a farmer missing last season.New seedbeds had taken around them, curled vines taking hold.Caelan put down a sack of mycelium starters. "Still believe in names?"She glared up. "Only the ones that continue to feed the soil."He nodded, and planted the first starter at the base of the sign.---9:28 AM — Sector E, Junction SpillwalkThe spillwalk still had lines of tension from the old infrastructure. Pipes once installed here to drain had twisted,

5:41 AM — Sector E, Palevine Access RidgeThe morning came with clarity. Fog had receded from the ridge, and what was left was the soft sheen of dew-attracted vines, quivering but standing tall.Elira strolled down the side path where root tendrils curled from the ground like writing. The ridgeline used to be a danger point—too brittle to walk on without charting. Now, a trail had worn itself out naturally across, not marked but recalled.Caelan stroked his hand along a rock outcropping. "You can see who came through, even if it's passed on now.""By what doesn't regrow," Elira said. "Or what regrows differently."Neither of them spoke again until the ridge had been cleared.---7:19 AM — Sector M, Splitweft Exchange HubAt the hub of the crossroads, individuals had started arranging baskets. No vendors shouted. No goods bore signs. It was a silent barter area: you left something, took something.Elira deposited a folded square of waxed linen—waterproof, old.A man took it up, nodded

5:42 AM — Sector C, Dawnturn StepsThe sky was a softening gray when they arrived. The steps—half-cut into slope, uneven—were wet from last night's drizzle. Not hazardous, just prudent.Every one had small markings on it: not numbers, but impressions. Shoe soles, pieces of pressed leaf, the occasional scratch of a cane.Elira pressed her finger down one. "Every step leaves its mark.Caelan nodded. "Even if nobody writes it down."They ascended slowly, step by step, their breath falling into the rhythm of the stone.No hurry. Only arrival.---7:17 AM — Sector E, Treadnet GalleryThe Gallery was not walled—it was wire-strung. Nets bound at different heights formed a walk-through mesh of memory offerings. Cloth swatches, braided threads, pressed flowers.A little girl pointed up at one: a yellow cloth with red stitching."Those are my kuya's. He went to Northline two weeks ago.""Did he take that before he left?" Elira asked softly.The girl moved her head back and forth. "I attached it

5:43 AM — Sector L, Firstlight Platform The platform was oriented east, tall and thin—designed originally for viewing. But no one kept watch here anymore. They watched, instead. The sun didn't rise suddenly. It unfolded in pleats—gentle oranges flowing over scaffolding sky. Elira stood with arms folded loosely, curl of breath in morning cold. "Still feels like first time." Caelan nodded, a boot propped on the low railing. "Each day starts anew even though we recall the previous." A basket of flatbread and warmed-over soup had been left behind on a bench. A note said: Eat prior to tracing. The light endures longer when there is something in you. They ate in silence and observed the day break. --- 7:08 AM — Sector D, Rootline Commons The Commons was bustling now—voices low, hands steady. A new platform was being raised using interlocked wood and hemp braids. It wasn't technical. It was known. Elira walked past a group aligning beams to old markers. An older woman beckoned her over. “We