The walk to the tavern is shorter than Lir expected, though, despite this, he and Tobias still arrive under the setting sun’s watchful gaze.

Three knocks from Tobias at its entrance, that’s guarded by the emblem of Aglia—a strange bird that reaches for something invisible to the naked eye—makes an innkeeper materialize from behind the door. The woman’s greeting comes in the form of a curt nod, nothing more, nothing less, as she leads them in and hands Tobias a key. He glances at her. Brief intrigue swirls within his glare. “Gale isn’t present today?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “He’ll be back later. Tomorrow; early morning. Wait for him. He was expecting you.”

Before another set of words can be exchanged between them, the woman walks away and disappears into a corridor leading to more rooms than Lir can count. This place certainly is bigger than what he’d imagined it to be. He blames Tobias’s ever-so-modest descriptions, which tend to turn warlords into people, and people into Kings. “How did he know?” Lir asks Tobias, without sparing him a glance. “Is this Gale person a seer?”

“Of course not.” Tobias’s tone is full of mockery—not for Lir, but for his late friend. “He is the type of man who takes too many precautions. Most of which never bear their fruit. That’s all. Come,” Tobias holds out a hand for Lir to take. “I’ll help you up the stairs.”

Lir grabs his palm. As true as it may be that Lir has gotten better on his feet in general, the issue of this still not being the case for slopes, climbs—and other surfaces that made Lir wonder why people bothered complicating their lives with stairs in the first place—remains well in his knees that shake, and threaten to give out every time he attempts to take on such mountains alone.

But all this is temporary, Lir tells himself. As it was when he first learned to run under the anger of the storm that might have washed him away had Tobias not been there to guide him. Or like when he realized he would have to push his way through life, with his hands against wheels that held him by the time he was three.

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Soon, Lir will know how to do these things alone.

Soon, he will be able to protect instead of always being the protected.

Soon… at least, he sure hopes so.

The room that greets them is not without its surprises. First, there are not two beds, but one. It is large, and clearly made for two people. Two lovers, Lir thinks, though he dares not say it aloud.

Tobias seems to notice his unease, however, as he soon says, “We can ask her for another room if you want. I’m sure Gale meant no harm. He merely assumed that…” His mentor’s brows furrow. “I would be coming with… someone other than you.”

“Who?” Lir finds himself asking, for now that the subject is on the table, he would bleed more from being kept in the dark rather than finally knowing—that, Lir is sure of.

Yet, for once, his mentor—the man who tends to have all the answers—stays silent, and still. “Later.” His voice is lower than usual. He averts his gaze from Lir’s.

Tobias clears his throat. “We should talk about this later,” he echoes, as the remnants of a smile comes to etch itself into the corners of his lips. “Over dinner, perhaps? You must be hungry.”

True, Lir certainly is, though the mere prospect of food isn’t tied to such easy decisions as it had been before. Perhaps, he should drink Dorian’s potion, then, he would know what it is he can or cannot do. Can, or cannot eat. But this would come with many other implications. Ones of the past, the present, and a future Lir isn’t sure quite sure he can face on an empty stomach with his limbs that ache from their travels in the biting winds of winter.

Yes, it is too early.

“Do you think they have fish?” Lir asks his mentor, after a silent moment of debating with himself on the matter.

As Tobias puts their belongings down onto the wardrobe that towers over their bed, he nods. His smile seems a tad lighter now, a little bit more genuine, and Lir is glad to see he has relaxed. “Sure. I’ll see what they can do.”