Zigmund looked at the sky, wandering with his eyes across the starry sky. It was a sight he liked to see when he was bothered by something. It was his habit. Good or bad, it was prose to be untold. He didn't care. Just time to breathe calmly was something he preferred.

Then, he sighed, scratching his head after a couple of rundowns of Allan's words. “That kid. I bet even if elder brother would get involved - which he wouldn't - nothing much could be done within this place. It's never easy, so why have I even tried? I guess Pedro did me good... That fool.”

“Some things are no longer like before. A drastic change came to either of us since the time of our separations within the Corps of Tricloud was less than pleasant. Figuring Allan's place of living is not my place to do and not his either. Yet I tried because... Well. I didn't. Excuses. All of them. Ah...” Zigmund took a deep breath and exhaled. Folding his arms across his chest, he closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep in the comforting breeze on the roof.

Calming wind and shimmering waters of the near river left much-needed final touch. A comfort he lacked from the distant past.

He silently made a promise to never get drunk again, nor visit the Guild of Questioning within his heart. It was all-important in his heart. A small promise.

For the better of himself, that is.

Wordless, and voiceless time flew through the night, as there was nothing strange happening within the mortal places.

Sun once again crawled back to its place what people called the morning. It was one thing that never changed.

Sarey was already awake, oblivious to her small tiredness, but it didn't pose many problems to her. She had no need to complain, not talk about it. In fact, this tiredness means something good. It meant her muscles and body was working hard to adjust themselves.

Within her room, she got a good 4 or 5 hours of sleep after removing acupoints from Allan before leaving for sleep.

“150! Good.” She mumbled in gladness, resting her front on the floor after finishing the 14th set of 150 push-ups. She felt tired, but these sets always energized her a little for the next day. Even when the night wasn't good for her, after such exercise in the morning, she will feel numb to care. She won't have to care about exercising for the majority of the day anyway. It will be all about Allan again, while she will be a helper. Then, she can do the same thing again tonight, supporting her tries and hope in her own way. Allan didn't need to know about it. Nor Zigmund. This was her own path, after all.

Her own decision.

Most often than not, such morning exercises caused her in a better mood to enter the new day with no residual frustration from the night.

Wearing a new set of clothes, consisting of a plain cotton shirt and a long skirt she used to wear when going to the town, she went out of her room to the kitchen. Preparation of the breakfast was her new priority.

Walking into the kitchen, she started to prepare the usual stuff, hoping that another morning like the one before will prove to be useful. After all, she didn't forget about her forceful decision to force Zigmund to talk. So, due breakfast will happen, and he will be damned right she will make the best meal of his life.

She started it by making fire below a metallic stove that had steel plates across the rectangular tin box. There was also a pipe to direct the smoke from the lower fire through the chimney outside. This was just a regular indoor kitchen, but not every mortal household could afford to buy or build such a thing.

It was a standard for restaurants since the heat could be maintained for a whole day with just two refills of fuel. It was Zigmund's idea to have this, since his restaurant forced luxury onto his irregular, yet forced normal life. One could even shove charcoal inside and make meat, directly above it while removing the steel plates above the fire. It was a versatile tool that was a luxury, for most, even though it was simple to make.

“Oh, we are almost out of eggs,” she said, looking through the icy room around the corner of the kitchen. It was their storage room, consisting of precious ice that can maintain cold for months. What they needed for maintained was a bit of water every week, and they were set. The room was isolated from the rest of the house by steel plates and sheep cotton behind the plates. It worked well, for what it was. “I guess I will use the remaining ones and figure something else tomorrow.”

In 20 minutes, the smell of the roasting sausages, eggs, and toasted bread traveled through the home, and even up, through the opening to the chimney. It woke Zigmund up, who was not previously woken up even with the shining sun that beamed in these upcoming summer times.

“Ah... Another day.” he sighed, forcing his eyes to adjust to the light. “Let's see what Sarey will cook up for me again. While I will at it, the talk is due I suppose. Allan will be also there, and I don't... ” Zigmund signed as he left the roof. “I don't know what to expect from this fatherly thing. Talking is easy though. At least it's not fighting to the death.” he sneered, forgetting the fact that the conversation and his relationship with Sarey weren't so good. Calling it a fight for his life wasn't right, but it wasn't far-fetched in mental prose.

Landing on the ground with light steps, he walked straight through the front door to the kitchen.

“Good morning, father.” Sarey greeted him, placing the last plate with toasted bread on the table.

“It sure is good. Where is Allan?”

“Still asleep, I think.”

“I am here now.” Allan also appeared around the corner, touching the wooden wall. “How could one sleep when the smell of the food is traveling even beyond the closed door? What do we have today?” He asked.

“Same as yesterday,” Sarey replied while taking a seat herself. She was fast today, and everything was prepared before they even came.

Starting breakfast in no time, they will all eat towards a better day. It was quite easy since the meal was excellent. Scrambled eggs had some onions and mushrooms inside, while the sausages left a meaty texture of spices and fulfillment. The flavor of the meal was subject to flattery by the toasted bread, which was the cherry on top. It was still crispy and warm from the toasting, adding a texture to everything along with a slightly salty taste.

“Alright,” Zigmund said, taking a bite out of sausage with little regard. “Any questions you wish to seek, Sarey?” Zigmund asked without a change of expression.

“What question?” Sarey played miss obvious, while of course, not forgetting the course of action of her father.

“I am no longer dumb like yesterday,” he mumbled, munching the meal.

“Oh, you are sober now? That's good.” she smiled, glancing at him as she stopped eating. “What happened yesterday for you to end up like that anyway? It's weird... for you.”

“Those?” Zigmund coughed, swallowing hard. “Just mistakes and reminiscing of the past that I wished to forget, or whatnot. Involturerliyt I needed up near Pedro, so the past as thus present. I got drunk in my own melancholy. Nothing bad, and I am sure it won't happen again.”

“Is the past worth getting drunk over?” Allan asked after hearing his words. He was never keen on seeing people drunk, but he sure knew why they do that. The way alcohol worked was an easy solution to numb oneself and Alaln had seen its effects on many people.

Zigmund glanced at Allan, reminiscing of their last conversation, and his own calming night. “It's how adults cope sometimes. You will get it one day.”

“I hope not,” Allan replied with a smirk, also recalling his words from yesterday.

Zigmund also smirked from his reply, returning his gaze back to Sarey who didn't know what these smirks meant.

“I still wish to ask simply for our sake, father,” Sarey argued. “I won't be polite with some questions, since you like to run around the bush with half-answers. I will ask, you will answer.”

“I am not lying when I say some things are better untold.” Zigmund said, sighting. “Some things are rather left in the past, and not telling you is as simple as not wanting to remember them me. Including you in the picture isn't traumatic for me, but it jsut means you are your own person, who doesn't need my past. Get it?”

“No,” she said, uttering this world with calmness. “Was the military such a traumatic experience? I don't recognize the word "trauma" within you at all, father.” Sarey said, enunciating the word trauma with some mockery while asking something she asked him numerous times already. Each time, he barely gave a truthful answer.

“I don't think trauma is a good way to describe it as well. I did certain things I am not fond of.”

“So you think me knowing about them is a bad thing?”

“I do. People are making mistakes, while atonement for them is not as easy, since that past already happened. People can change but the past won't change. Thus, people's mistake or their less-than-appealing past may be frowned upon, or bite them in the future or the present. I thought a lot about these things, you know? A lot.” Zigmund explained his reason for what he honestly believed. “Are you not understanding at least of that? You are a clever girl, Sarey.” Zigmund looked at her with, warmth in his eyes.

“Hmph! I can be understanding within the reasons.” She acknowledged it in her own way, batting some bread alongside a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“How about asking the third party here? I am sure Allan had his own shared troubles with his father. His perspective or words can give you a better understanding, am I right?” Zigmund stated, changing the direction to get out of the grasp of Sarey's curiosity. Using Allan in this matter was done after his careful deliberation.

“Mister Zigmund... please.” Allan chewed, unbothered by getting involved in their family problem. Well, partly. He still listened and hoped to understand them, but he didn't want to get involved. It sounded rather personal. “Don't bring me between your troubles,” he said.

“Exactly father.” Sarey nodded. “In fact, I am sure that Allan is curious about a man who can wipe the floor with him with seemingly no troubles.” Sarey countered, giving a rather good argument.

“I am not willing to talk about my past. Don't you rather want to know more about other things? Present times are also interesting, you know?”

“For example? I found your wording rather ambiguous as usual. If your past is such a hard topic, why afraid of the past? Voicing it now is better than never. Going over it later may be redundant since it will inevitably happen. In this way, doing it now serves no better time than later. It's that simple.”

Zigmund lamented inside, regretting the decision of letting Triston teach her so much. She spoke a such clever words of smart scholars. Within those years, Sarey's visibility changed with both, years and her intellect of understanding the world behind his back. To his absolute dismay, Zigmund had no idea what went behind his back. The whole truth, with her true teacher being Terg was hidden.

“I have no idea what you are saying,” Zigmudn said. “You are just forcing me to talk for your sake of talking.”

Sarey sneered, giving him no chance to change. “Fine. Yesterday was the start of this talking, so let me be frank. Last time, you talked about the situation of the Tricloud Alliance. What about the reasons for their visits a few days ago then? I want to know all about that presence.” Sarey asked, forcing his words down his throat. “As you wish, father.”

Allan clutched his fist, realizing his mistake. “They were just a bunch of soldiers on some missions. I discharged them within a few moments.” Zigmund bitterly explained.

“Mission?” Sarey asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Crap, here we go... Fuck me. What a terrible day! Like yesterday...” Zigmund cursed within his mind. He wished he could indicate for Allan's help somehow, but it was like looking at the sun, hoping it would go away in the middle of the day. Allan would not help.

“As you assumed yourself, Alliance soldiers have their own ways of information and mission. They want to get something for me. It's my problem to solve, which leaves my problem to myself. I am surely not involving my daughter or the blind boy in her care. Do you understand a little better? It's that kind of world I am implying.”

Sarey listened carefully, thinking of his word as she remained silent for a good minute.

The silence was stopped by Allan. “Why would Alliance want something from the retired soldier? It goes against the common sense of their rules.” Allan asked.

“I guess my past outlived today's problems.” Zigmund gave him a basic excsuese.

“So it is because of the war?” Sarey asked, understanding that his meaning was more than meets the eye.

“Not sure.” Zigmund shook his head. “I will have another visit from them soon. Then, I will see it myself. Leave this topic for now. War, alliance, or whatnot, it's getting to the point when the meat doesn't even taste good. I am getting bothered by this topic already.”

Sarey frowned. Getting some news from him today was already good enough, and a few meaningful explanations go a long way for her mind. Sarey did not bother him with that any longer, since she could interpret his words to her own meaning.

She changed the last few questions to the general way Tricloud Alliance operated and Zigmund more or less answered truthfully since it was just logistics of the past. He didn't know what changed at the present.

Listening from the sidelines, Allan kept eating and couldn't help but think of his own questions. So, he asked. “Can I also have some hard-to-answer questions?” Allan asked after Zigmund finished his talk about merchant groups of the Alliance.

“What question?” he asked, turning to Allan.

“It's about... A particular problem that is your problem. A little, sorry. ” Alan awkwardly said. “It is regarding the materials in my forge. The value that you told me quite shocked me with those number of gold coins. Is it possible to get some certain materials that I learned from my father?”

“Materials? Do you want something specific than the ones we talked about, and purchased?” Zigmund asked, glad that Allan changed the subject out of Sarey's hands. “I suppose the values or material are depending on the rarity, use, and value. Any purchases depend on the market. I think with the war coming to a dangerous point, prices will fluctuate a lot. What do you have in mind?”

“Materials,” Allan said. “Where could one get precious materials? Within close proximity of immortal rarities and qualities.”

His last two words surprised Zigmund quite a bit. Hearing such a topic from him put his unease to another level. Immortal valuables? In mortal cities in the midst of war? It was a good time for that, sure, but hearing that from this blind boy of questionable past was quite interesting. “What's your deal, boy? This topic isn't pleasant by mortal standards, you know? Do you even know what you are asking about or demanding?” Zigmund asked while not following his questions.

“Nothing but forging.” Allan honestly answered.

“Heheh.” Zigmund sneered as the answer that came to him was quite simple. It was both simple and honest, but the answer was quite more complex than that.

“Underground Market,” he answered.

“Where would someone find it?” Allan asked, figuring something like that wasn't all that surprising. His own town and kingdom had something like that too, so hearing it now wasn't all that surprising. When there was war, valuables, rarities, or whatever else, it was inevitable to have greedy people looking for business and money.

Zigmund frowned, but Allan was unable to see his face. He could only guess that he was a bit agitated from his tone of voice. “So, the blind boy wants to act within those places? Reach and deal with lofty figures?” Zigmund said, forgetting his meal completely. “While I am sure no harm could be done to you, I don't think too many good things will come out of it either. If you will get involved yourself, it's easy to mess things up. Well, considering you, at the moment at least. Or, are you asking me to deal with it when you mention it like that? I figured my last help with the forge was plenty enough for you already.”

“I am asking, mister Zigmund.” Allan argued, sounding firm, for once. “Not demanding anything. Words can speak sincerity and actions follows the intent of sincerity. I would get involved myself If I could. No doubt about it. I had some information about the black market in my hometown, and I even did a couple of deals according to my father. I am sure deals could be done in this world too, and I am a business. My work can be valuable and thus sold. Money. It's all about it, isn't it? The value that can move something that shouldn't be moved normally.”

Hearing his simple, yet serious words, Zigmund nodded, leaning on the chair. “I am sure your markets are nothing compared to the one I am talking about. You speak of Immortal materials, you know? It's rare... Hard to find, but not impossible. What I am talking about is a hegemon organization which ate up every single black market that tried to get into their businesses in the last hundred years.”

“Does it change the answer, my demands, or this topic at all?” Allan asked seriously.

“No.” Zigmudn scratched his head, thinking that one big headache was coming his way. He suddenly recalled something. A thing that he saw yesterday. It may be unpleasant, but it was what Allan was talking about and demanded. He may help him. Again... “Wait... Maybe there is something that you would find interesting, more than involvement of the Underground Market.” Zigmund said, recalling one moment from the last day.

It was an unpleasant moment, following the fear of a terrifying woman. When forcing Ziola of the Guild of Questions to the table, Zigmund noticed a poster of importance. It was an invitation from the Underground Market to the seasonal auction that should be happening in a major city. He only glanced at it because he didn't want to see her face. Now, it came to his mind.

“There will be an auction set up by the Underground Marked in the Great Riverflow city,” Zigmund answered the truth

“Auction? I have no desire to try to compete with other people with money. I have none myself. Did you forget, mister Zigmund?” Allan calmly replied as the answer was not to his satisfaction. Although, he could not deny that such a topic piqued his interest. Hearing Zigmund's brief words about the Underground Market meant it was quite a resourceful organization.

“I am not forgetting, boy,” Zigmund said, ignoring the fact that in his land, there was a treasure worth a couple of planets. “You can sell some of your own pieces there if you want. I recall I was meant to help you with that, so this may be a solution? Your hope?”

“Is it even safe, father? Underground is known for bad practices. Unsurprisingly...” Sarey jumped between them, as she realized the degree of the topic that Allan was getting into. In fact, she realized that Allan never told her about this. This desire or whatnot. What was he getting onto? It involved forging, so perhaps nothing hidden was about it. Allan simply wanted more choices, or... he wanted something else? She wasn't sure, but she can think and guess a couple of them.

“It is, if...” Zigmund hesitated, glancing at his half-full plate. “I guess this is fate, karma because of my past?” he thought. “I can take you there if you will no longer question me like today or yesterday.” He forced these words out, focusing on his own profits again.

“It is not up to me to decide, mister Zigmund. It was Sarey's idea, to begin with. She decides that.” Allan shot him down, returning to his eating once again.