Tobias passes the raw fish over to Lir's side of the table. “Are you sure you don't want anything else? Seasoning, maybe?” he asks Lir.

Lir merely grabs the plate and waves him off. “I better not. I'd probably puke all over the house. It's not worth it.” Then, upon remembering they are not alone, his attention flickers back and forth between Oline—Archie's apprentice—and Archie himself. Lir’s lip twitches. “Sorry… Uh, I wasn't trying to gross you out.”

Somehow, Archie only laughs as Oline remains her usual, silent self, and helps herself to a large serving of pumpkin soup.

Archie slaps his knee. ““You've got quite an elaborate sense of humor, don’t you?” He turns to Tobias, who has also taken the liberty of adding an arrangement of colorful peppers, mushrooms, and carrots to his plate. “Doesn’t he?” he asks his ex-pupil.

Tobias's expression remains stern, calm, as does his tone. “I don't think my student was joking, master.”

“Oh, come on, you know you don't have to call me that at dinner, relax!”

“We should speak about Lir's situation, Archie.”

Archie falls back into his seat. He crosses his arms and pouts. “Somehow,” he mutters, “I feel like I'm being scolded.”

“Good.” Tobias huffs. He takes a bite out of a stray piece of bread that his ex-mentor gifted him before dinner started. “You are.”

Archie whimpers. He pretends to cry. “You break my heart, Tobias!”

On the opposite side of Lir's end of the table, Oline giggles as they continue to argue in the background, yelling things like: “You cannot say it is impossible, you've never said that before!”

And, “We have not known each other for a lifetime, but half a quarter of that, how can claim to know what I have and haven't done? We should probably revise your calculations, my little lad!”

Then, “I'm am not short, master! You are the one who is freakishly tall!”

Oline clears her throat. She glances at Lir, who was still observing his mentor and their debate. “Archie is… something else when he's off work and has had a tad too much ale, isn't he?” The young girl giggles as she offers him a pint of water. “Here. You must be thirsty. I heard about the fish and food situation, but I assume you are still allowed to drink, yes?”

Lir accepts her offer with a nod. He agrees in silence with her statement, though, it is not only Archie who is showing a different side of himself, but his own mentor, too, for Tobias seems younger than ever as he partakes in their quarrel. His voice holds the passion a sailor ready to conquer the ocean and its foes. And it is in moments like these that Lir is reminded they are not so distant when it comes to age—Tobias always acts like a wise old hermit, but in fact, in the shadow of his superiors, it seems he is still considered quite green.

“You care about your mentor a lot,” Oline says, and this time, Lir catches himself staring, right at Tobias. He tries to look away—to erase the fond smile that had taken his lips—yet, it is already much too late for excuses. The girl has seen; she probably knows.

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“I guess, I do…” Lir hooks his palm around the back of his neck. Heat rises to his face. “He taught me how to live. Anyone would be thankful for—”

“He seems to like you, too.”

“What?” Lir laughs. “No.” He shakes his head. He gulps down the water and stuffs whatever he can from his plate in his mouth, before he rises from his wooden seat that squeaks against the tiles. As he presses both his palms to the table, Lir glances down at the salmon's bones that had been abandoned amid the cyan, circular piece of porcelain, which is certainly worth more than whatever he could afford back home. “He's an idiot,” Lir tells Oline. His voice is low. He does not want to draw Tobias's attention to them. “My mentor does things out of obligation sometimes. It is likely this is one of those cases. No need to read too much into it, or else you may go mad trying to figure it out.” I would go mad, he thinks, though, he does not speak the words.

Oline has no need to know about the nature of his attachment for Tobias, nobody does. And as long as Lir omits mentioning it to another soul, feelings are not tangible, nor are they real. Lir finds a certain kind of reassurance within this idea, for if his affection for Tobias is nothing but a figment of his imagination, maybe—just maybe—the universe will not catch drift of it, and he will not have eat his heart after all.

“Are... you okay?” Oline’s whisper is a tad softer than before. Her words are filled with a certain hesitation that hadn't been there the last time she spoke. “I— I hope I did not overstep my boundaries by… asking such questions.”

“No. Uh, you're fine. Don't worry,” Lir adds. His face is surely still partially flushed red at the thought of Tobias in that way. He wishes the heat would leave him. “Do you know where the bathroom is though?”

“Oh!” The young woman clasps her hands together in apparent relief. Her face lights up once more. “Of course!” She points to a door Lir doesn't remember seeing when he first arrived. “We have a few, but when we're on the first floor that's the one we usually use.”

She gives Lir directions he couldn't care less for, since he isn't actually going to relieve himself, but, nevertheless, Lir pretends to listen as a polite gesture, all the while sneaking the odd glance or two at Tobias and Archie. They are still going out it, and have apparently decided to engage in what appears to be a rather competitive way of eating their food.

When Oline finally finishes her explanation, Lir thanks her and abandons the table for a modest, wooden door he soon passes through with ease.

The night's air is a refreshing change of pace that he greets with open arms. Although Lir hadn't expected to see the stars as well from where they are, one look at the sky void of clouds is enough to know he was wrong. And if it weren't for the peculiar cackles of a man and woman, that fill the air not too far away from him, it is likely Lir would have spent the rest of his time here, admiring the view.

Lir frowns. He strolls past the door and attempts to stay silent. However, such a feat is soon broken by the wood of the balcony's veranda, which decides to creak beneath his feet. Lir’s breath catches in his throat. He pauses, and waits for the laughter to cease—for anything to happen that could hint these people have heard him, but nothing comes.

After a moment, Lir figures it won't do him harm to carry on. Trained assassins would not cackle in the night-time on a balcony. If anything, they would have noticed him by now. Maybe even killed him.

Perhaps they are drunk people who got lost, or some of Archie's other acquaintances that Tobias and the man's ex-mentor had forgotten to mention beforehand.

As he nears the promised place full of laughter, the tinge of ashes and fire strolling in the air becomes apparent. This does little to reassure Lir, especially not once he finds himself face-to-face with a wall of fog whose greys are bounce off a curtain of crimson light. It is emanating from a room, that is definitely not bathroom.

He peeks past the the mysterious corner. He gulps. “Hello?"