The dim light flickering from the candle cast a soft glow over the bedside table, spilling faintly onto Sylleth’s face. He lay there, eyes open, staring into the shadowy stillness surrounding him.

"I can’t fall asleep..." He thought, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse in front of him, unable to shake the restless feeling.

Minutes slipped by as he stared into the shadows, occasionally glancing at the slowly melting candle. Its flame danced softly, casting long, quiet shadows across the walls.

"...I'm thirsty." He murmured to himself, pushing himself up from the bed and rubbing his tired eyes.

Sylleth slid to the edge of the bed, letting his feet rest gently on the cool, wooden floor before pushing himself up. The sudden chill against his skin made him shiver slightly, but he steadied himself, moving carefully so as not to wake Zara, who was sprawled peacefully across her bed.

"Maybe there’s water downstairs at the inn..." He thought, creeping toward the door. With a quiet click, he opened it just enough to slip out, finding himself in a long, dim hallway lined with candle sconces here and there, their soft light casting faint, flickering shadows along the walls.

"It’s pretty dark..." He whispered to himself, closing the door behind him as he took in the quiet, empty stretch ahead. He padded softly down the hallway, each step nearly silent against the aged wood, heading toward the staircase. A warm, golden glow spilled up from below, beckoning him.

When he reached the top of the staircase, Sylleth cautiously descended a few steps, then leaned over the wooden railing, peering down at the bustling tavern hall below. To his surprise, the place was still packed with people, an unusual sight given the late hour. The room was bathed not in the soft glow of candles but in warm, orange-hued light from mana orbs that floated just below the ceiling, casting an otherworldly glow over the crowd.

Sylleth descended a bit further, trying to get a better view of what was happening. People clustered around tables in animated groups, their laughter and conversations blending into a lively hum. Elves, dwarves, and humans alike were sharing stories, some raising glasses in cheerful toasts. It almost felt as though he’d stumbled into a celebration rather than a quiet night at an inn.

When Sylleth finally spotted a small bar tucked along one of the tavern’s walls, he hurried toward it, doing his best to avoid drawing the attention of the already-tipsy patrons. He weaved his way through the festive crowd, narrowly dodging a tipsy dwarven warrior who, just as Sylleth passed, suddenly launched into a wrestling match with an elf, each determined to get the upper hand.

“So, Niall was right about this after all…” Sylleth muttered under his breath, quickening his pace as he slipped around the scuffling pair and made a beeline for the bar.

As he reached it, he felt a sense of relief at the quieter atmosphere. There were a few empty stools, and the bartender, a middle-aged woman with a warm but no-nonsense expression, noticed him approaching.

"What can I get you?" She asked with a brief, indifferent glance, polishing one of the glasses in her hand.

“Oh… just water.” Sylleth replied, feeling a bit self-conscious. He kept glancing around the room, half-hoping he’d spot a familiar face in the bustling crowd.

"Here you go…” The woman said in a bored tone, pouring water into a glass from a nearby jug and handing it over before moving on without another word.

Sylleth took a small sip, savoring the coolness of the drink. He stayed by the bar a moment longer, eyes wandering across the lively scene. For a moment, he felt like a part of it all—an adventurer among adventurers, each with their own stories to tell. The buzz of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air around him, and he couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a man dressed in a white cotton tunic, draped with a silk cloak, and paired with oversized leather trousers, with their cuffs tucked neatly into his tall leather boots sat down beside Sylleth. He swept his gleaming blond hair back from his face, raising a hand to signal the bartender, then turned his gaze toward the boy.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be drinking?" He asked in a soft voice, his tone gentle but amused. His golden eyes held a hint of weariness, though their vibrant hue made the exhaustion less obvious.

“It’s… just water.” Sylleth replied, slightly startled, and took another sip.

“Ah, of course…” The man murmured, his voice trailing off as he glanced toward the bartender, who was approaching him.

As the man turned away, Sylleth caught sight of a pointed ear poking through his blond hair.

“So, he’s an elf too…” Sylleth thought, setting his glass down on the counter.

"What can I get you?" The woman asked, her tone dripping with disinterest as she cast a slight look of disdain toward the man.

"A glass of cherry wine, please." He replied calmly, gesturing toward a bottle resting on a shelf behind her.

As she turned to retrieve it, Sylleth noticed another detail that made the man stand out. His fingernails were long and elegantly shaped, each adorned with tiny amber stones embedded in places along the edges.

"A Royal?" Sylleth thought, his eyes widening slightly. He remembered reading in one of the books from his childhood that these amber-decorated nails were a favorite adornment of elves from the highest ranks.

"So, what’s a kid like you doing here at this hour?" the man asked, his voice calm as his gaze settled on Sylleth.

"...I just got thirsty, that’s all." Sylleth replied, feeling a bit embarrassed under the man’s steady gaze.

"No need to feel nervous, kid." The man said, giving him an easy nod as he took the glass and bottle from the bartender. "You’re among friends here." He added, taking a slow sip of his wine.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Ah... right, thanks." Sylleth managed a small smile at his words, feeling a flicker of reassurance.

"…Hey, kid, have you been cursed?" The man asked, still sipping his wine.

"S-Sorry?" Sylleth stammered, caught off guard by the sudden question.

"You’re reek of dark magic." The man said, his tone shifting as he placed the glass down on the counter. "I’m pretty drunk, but I can still feel it." He glanced at Sylleth with a look of suspicion mixed with curiosity.

"Dark magic...?" Sylleth stammered, unable to recall any moment when someone could have cursed him.

"Especially your left hand..." The man added, his gaze fixed on the boy's arm.

"Left...?" Sylleth glanced down at his hand, rolling up his sleeve. "Oh, right... the scar." He thought, pulling the sleeve back to reveal a sprawling, dark scar that snaked from his wrist up to his elbow. "It looks bigger than before..." He thought, his brow furrowing slightly as he examined it.

"Interesting..." The man said, leaning in closer and placing a hand on Sylleth’s shoulder.

"Eh..." Sylleth gasped, startled by the sudden contact.

"Very interesting..." The man murmured to himself, tracing a finger along the scar.

"W-What’s so interesting?" Sylleth asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the man’s intense gaze.

"Where did you get this?" The man asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Sylleth.

"It... it’s a long story." Sylleth replied quickly, pulling his hand away and tugging the sleeve of his shirt back down to cover the scar once more.

"Would you consider becoming my apprentice?" The man asked suddenly, settling back into his seat and continuing to sip his wine.

"W-What?" Sylleth stammered, now completely shocked.

"It’s not every day you see someone your age with an Etheric Sink on their arm." The man remarked, setting his glass down on the counter and refilling it with more wine.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Sylleth asked, his mind spinning, struggling to understand what the man had just said.

"Your scar... it’s practically an endless well of mana, and at such a young age..." The man began, taking another sip of wine. "...a perfect candidate for an apprentice."

"Maybe... I should have just stayed in the room." Sylleth thought, taking a sip of his water and subtly leaning back.

"I-I’m sorry, but... I’m not very good at magic." Sylleth admitted.

"No worries, we all start somewhere," the man said with a shrug, sipping his wine casually. "I, for example, once set my house on fire trying to pour water into my aquarium." He added, a small smirk tugging at his lips as the memory seemed to amuse him.

“I… don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” Sylleth replied, feeling awkward as he slowly slid off his seat, inching back.

“…Fair enough, but think it over, kid… and give me your answer tomorrow.” The man said, finishing off his wine in one last gulp. Rising from his seat, he gave Sylleth a nod before striding toward the crowd, his energy shifting from quiet intrigue to bold confidence as he stepped into the bustling tavern.

“All right, folks!” He called out, pointing with a slow, sweeping gesture toward a group of adventurers who were deep in conversation. “Which one of you is brave enough to take me one-on-one?”

After a brief pause, a group of dwarves made their way toward the man, their leader stepping forward from their ranks. He was dressed in gleaming silver armor that shimmered in the tavern’s warm light, every inch polished to perfection.

He pinted at another one sitting in front of the man, clearly inviting him to the fight.

“Heh… so you want me to show this Dunne show-off his place, huh?” barked the dwarf with a thick, graying beard, rising from his seat and striding over to face the man.

“D-Dunne? Wasn’t that the family Lirian mentioned?!” Sylleth thought, his heart skipping a beat as he hopped down from his seat, glancing toward the unfolding scene with a mix of excitement and unease.

As the tension built between the man and the dwarven leader, Sylleth felt a sudden pang of nervousness. He’d seen enough bar fights in stories to know how they usually ended, and this one had all the makings of a rowdy brawl.

"I should probably get back to my room… before things get out of hand." Sylleth thought, weaving quickly through the crowd gathering around the two men now locked in a wrestling match.

He slipped through the excited onlookers, heading toward the staircase he’d come down earlier. Just as he reached the edge of the crowd, the blond-haired man shouted after him, his voice loud and slurred.

"Think it over, kid! I'm telling you, you won’t find a better teacher!" the man bellowed, slamming a dwarf's arm down onto the table with a loud thud and immediately turning to size up his next opponent.

Sylleth shook his head, half-amused, and hurried up the stairs, the raucous noise of the tavern fading with each step.

"Actually... learning magic might help me find my family... and Shalyn." Sylleth thought as he made his way down the dim hallway toward his room.

"And... it would be worth it just to see the look on Nieven’s face... when he realizes I can wield magic too." A small smile crept onto his lips as he imagined it, the idea of accepting the man’s offer becoming a little more appealing with each step.

By the time he reached his door, Sylleth found himself surprisingly eager, a spark of determination mixing with his nerves. He took a quiet breath, feeling the weight of the night’s events settle over him, and slipped inside, leaving the bustling world of the tavern behind for now.

Sylleth hurried toward his bed, passing by Zara’s, which lay unmade.

"Hmm... I thought I made it up earlier," he mused, sliding onto his own bed and straightening out the tangled blanket.

As he settled under the soft, warm covers, a sudden sensation made him freeze—a gentle breath against his ear, followed by the faint sound of someone murmuring in their sleep.

Quickly, he turned his head and found himself face-to-face with Zara, who was nestled into one of his pillows, fast asleep and completely unaware of his presence.

"W-Wait... did I crawl into the wrong bed...?" he thought, blinking in confusion. His eyes darted around the room, landing on the bed to the left, next to the nightstand—where Zara was supposed to be sleeping. "No... that’s definitely her bed. So… why is she in mine?"

Sylleth let out a silent sigh, half-amused, half-exasperated. Deciding not to disturb her, he shifted carefully to avoid waking her and resigned himself to a cramped spot at the edge of the bed, trying to ignore her quiet, sleepy mumbling.

R...Remus..." Zara mumbled, her tail slowly and lazily curling under the blanket.

Sylleth turned toward her again, stifling a quiet laugh as he watched her drift in and out of her dreams. Suddenly, she shifted forward, nestling her head against his side.

"Remi..." She murmured again, her face pressing softly against him as her head moved in tiny circles, as though searching for something in her sleep.

Sylleth blinked, caught off guard, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face.

“Goodnight, Zara.” He whispered, inching a bit further away to give her space and then finally closing his eyes.

“...’night... Remi...” She murmured softly, a faint smile crossing her lips as she snuggled into her fluffy tail, her face peaceful and content.

Sylleth closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to drift off. But just as he began to relax, memories surfaced—memories of his family, vivid and unbidden, filling his mind in the quiet darkness. He saw flashes of his brother's grin, his mother’s warm gaze, his aunt’s laughter, and his father’s steady presence. And then, like a whisper in his heart, came Shalyn.

The memories felt so real, as if with just a stretch of his hand, he could grasp them— and if he did, he would never let them go. Yet, they were still too far, just beyond his reach. These sweet memories slowly turned bitter, like a song where only fragments remained, fading and out of tune.

Sighing, Sylleth turned onto his side, clutching the blanket tightly, as if trying to hold onto something more than just fabric.

In that moment, the weight of it all settled on him—the fate of his family was not in his hands, not yet.

"But I can change that..." He thought, the last spark of his consciousness clinging to hope as he finally drifted into the long-awaited sleep.