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# Waverider Expedition - Khazryn

The door

They were running.

Boots striking cobblestone, breath burning in their throats, shouts echoing from somewhere behind.

The street twisted like a wound through the old quarter, slick with mud and rain, every turn tighter than the last.

Arven stumbled first, his shoulder scraping a wall. "How many?" he gasped.

"Too many," Rahim said, without looking back. "You shouldn't have drawn steel."

"He called me a liar!"

Decimus laughed breathlessly. "You are a liar."

"Not to him!"

"Quiet," Rahim snapped.

The shouting grew louder. Metal on stone. Boots, dozens of them. Somewhere a horn blew, short, sharp, official. The kind of sound that meant no way out.

They turned another corner, and found only darkness, a blind alley choked with rain barrels and refuse.

For a heartbeat, they stood there, panting, soaked, the air thick with the smell of smoke and wet wood.

Then, without a word, Rahim drew his sword.

"Maybe we can-"

A door opened.

Just an ordinary door, set into the wall beside them. Wooden, weathered, its hinges creaking in the rain. A wedge of warm light spilled across the mud.

No one stood in the doorway. No sound came from within.

Decimus blinked. "Well... that's convenient."

Rahim didn't hesitate. "Inside. Now."

They slipped through, pulling the door shut behind them just as the guards thundered past outside.

The sound of pursuit filled the alley for a moment, then faded, swallowed by the rain.

Inside was stillness. The kind that feels older than the room itself.

It was a modest house - one room, maybe two beyond. The air smelled faintly of dust and smoke. A table stood near the wall, a cup overturned upon it. A lamp flickered low, its flame guttering as if it, too, were out of breath. But there was no one. Not even footprints on the floor.

Decimus leaned against the door, grinning shakily. "Thanks, Gato," he said. "You saved us there."

Arven frowned. "Gato's not here."

They looked around again. Empty. Utterly ordinary.

For a while, no one spoke. The only sound was the faint tap of rain on the shutters.

Finally, Rahim eased the latch and opened the door a crack.

Outside, silence. The alley was empty. The rain fell steady, washing the stones clean. No sign of pursuit. No horns. No torches.

Only the smell of wet earth and smoke, and a cat somewhere, yowling in the distance.

He closed the door again, softly. "We'll wait a moment," he said.

They did. No one came.

When they finally stepped back into the street, the world felt somehow thinner, the noise of the city still there, but far away, like an echo remembered.

Arven turned once, looking back at the house. "You think someone opened it for us?"

Rahim shook his head. "Does it matter?"

Decimus shrugged. "If they did, I owe them a drink."

The door stood closed, its wood dark and plain. Just another door among hundreds.

They walked on, and before long the street curved, and it was lost behind them.

Rain kept falling, steady, endless. Somewhere far above the clouds, the stars were shining, unseen.

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