It was storming that night. A young lady ran through the muddy road, constantly battered by cold droplets. Her hood kept falling off her head, letting the rain through to soak her blonde hair. She grimaced as a few hit her eyes as well. Cover. She needed cover, preferably in the form of a roof over her head.

Where was that blasted tavern the innkeeper mentioned? It wasn't supposed to be this far from the inn! Damn storm, she cursed beneath her breath. Just her luck. The dense fog already made this place hard enough to navigate, then this thunderstorm decides to blindside her out of nowhere!

'Look for the large house with lit windows.' The innkeeper had said. At first she thought it was a joke, but sure enough, not one house she ran past had light in its windows. These houses all looked freshly built, so why were there no lights - it wasn't so late that everyone would be asleep. Did anyone even live here?!

Questions for later, she thought as she finally caught sight of light in the fog. Around the small specks was the silhouette of a large house. Windows were lit - the description fit, had to be the tavern. Even if it wasn't, she was going in anyway. Anything to get out of the rain and into a warm place.

The building looked incredibly old-fashioned – straw roof, carvings in the wooden walls and that same freshly-built quality of the other houses. As she approached it, her steps quickened. When she finally reached the front porch, she jumped up the steps and loudly swung open the door without hesitation.

While gasping for air, she let her gaze wander along the tavern, which was also permeated by a thin misty veil. The tavern was much smaller on the inside than one would think looking at it from outside. The bar was tucked away on the far side, and behind the counter, a back door led to what was presumably a storeroom. Lanterns of all shapes and sizes were distributed around the tavern, small flames of differing colours flickered inside them. There was one on every other table.

The patrons sitting at those tables were all staring at their own drinks, each of them on their own. Her loud entrance earned her only an indifferent reaction - they paid her no mind besides a quick, vacant glance, their faces betraying a deep sense of unease. Eyes wide, hands shaking. What's up with these people, she thought as she headed for the bar, better finish my business quickly and get out of here.

"Need supplies for the road. Enough for a week." She said to the bartender, who nodded and disappeared into what was now confirmed to be a storeroom. While waiting, she continued to look around the tavern while nervously tapping her foot. She hadn't been able to shake this feeling - this feeling that there was something terribly wrong about this town.

When she and Ionyr had come upon it, they thought themselves lucky at first – having been lost in this thick fog for hours, it was like finding an oasis in the desert. Finally, civilization, they thought. But the longer they stayed, the more...off everything seemed.

Everyone looked so young and strong, yet their expressions showed nothing but unending exhaustion. This thick haze pervaded everywhere, even indoors. Only reason they could find the inn earlier is because of the light in the windows - same as this tavern.

Eventually, the bartender returned with a large satchel and placed it before her on the counter. She took it and dropped two silver coins on the table. Shaking his head, the man slid them back to her. What was with these people? Refusing money like that. It was the same at the inn, too. She opened the satchel to check its contents, finding only grey, colourless strips of presumably meat.

"What is this?" She asked as the bartender poured himself a tankard of mead, which smelled staler than weeks-old bread. The lantern hanging above the counter flickered briefly.

"Meat." Was his curt reply.

"What kind?"

"The kind that don't rot." Furrowing her eyebrows, she picked up a piece and went to take a bite. The bartender suddenly and fiercely grabbed her arm. "Warm it first, over an open fire." He said, staring deeply into her eyes, as though trying to pierce her soul. "Do not waste this gift. It is precious. Treasure it." She got the distinct feeling that he wasn't talking about food. Not this desperately and forebodingly.

"Sure. I won't." She said, tearing her arm from his grip. If she could, she'd be booking it out the door right now. But she couldn’t return to Ionyr with food for only his stomach – he needed his curiosity satisfied too. He smelled a big find here – and his nose was often right when it came to that. “You got a storyteller in here?"

Who better to ask about local myths and legends?

The bartender sighed, and pointed at a table in the corner, beside the fogged up window, before helping himself to the rest of his drink. A hooded man sat at the table, staring down his tankard. Despite wearing a worn, thick cloak, it betrayed his large frame. He wore a stained white shirt beneath, though it wasn't closed, letting his massive gut spill out. The man looked like a fat monkey in human form – she felt slightly disgusted, but if that was the storyteller, she'd deal with it.

"Thanks." She said to the bartender before heading over to the table, while he refilled his tankard behind her. Stopping in front of the storyteller, she tapped on his table to get his attention. He gave her nary a glance. Suddenly, lightning flashed outside.

"Leave." His beard, brown and luscious, didn't fit with his old, decrepit and broken voice. His purple eyes glimmered beneath the hood as he looked back at her. "Here, those who cling to death gather. You, with life in your eyes – you have no place here. Begone."

"I can tell." She said, sitting down. "This town is dreadful. Everyone's rude and stuck in their own little world. Can’t even get a hello."

"What brings you here in the first place?" He grumbled, seemingly annoyed at her persistence.

"To you, or to this town?"

"I can guess why you're talking to me. “What brings you to this town?" She sighed.

"Trust me, I didn't want to end in this...sorry to say this, but this is a dump."

"Har! You can say that again." The man responded with a light grin, revealing oddly shiny teeth.

"We were on our way to Orborrow when we got caught up in this fog." She glanced out the window. Rain drops forcefully splattered against it, their thumping on the glass being the only constant in this dead silent tavern.

"We?" The man asked, taking hold of his jug. "You came with someone else, did ye?"

"Yes. My..." She paused. "My travel companion." He paused and ran his hand through his beard. She could've sworn he was hiding a grin, but he took a swig of mead before she could see for sure. He raised his head, and she finally caught a glimpse under the hood – albeit a short one.

The only, meagre lighting came from the lantern on his walking stick, whose purple flame danced in its cage. His skin was youthful and healthy – fitting of a man endowed with such a full beard. His eyes glimmered in the shadow of his hood. Something was off. Flames aren't purple, and eyes don't glow on their own.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Rudd, the local storyteller." He held out his hand. "Care to give this old man your name?"

"Rayza." She shook his hand. It was thick, burly, and...very hairy. Too hairy. After shaking his hand, she let her hand drift below the table, where she wiped it on her cloak, before letting it rest on the dagger she kept in her thigh strap.

"Pleasure to meet you, Rayza." He waved at the bartender, who nodded and disappeared into the back room. "Colour me surprised. I can tell you're on edge. But you refused my advice, and decided to stay. Why?"

"Wouldn't make it far as an explorer if I ran the first chance I got." She sighed and tapped her fingers on the table. "And someone thought there'd be treasure here. Hence why I'm talking with you."

"An explorer, huh?" He said, grinning with his unnaturally immaculate white teeth. "So, you're on a treasure hunt. Fascinating. Do tell me more."

"You're creepy, you know that?" He suddenly guffawed loudly, holding his oversized beer belly.

"I do. You've been on edge ever since you sat down there. Do you really think I don't notice you gripping that dagger for dear life?" How did he know?! He raised a hand. "Relax. I'd react the same way in your shoes. After all, this is no place for those clinging to life." The bartender arrived, bringing two new tankards filled with mead. "Will you join me for a drink?"

"...is it poisoned?" She still refused to let go of her dagger. He grinned.

"You can have mine if you wish – both taste like right shite though."

"Sorry, but I'll pass." Rudd shrugged and took one. The bartender took the other and began chugging it down as he made his way back to the counter. "So, about that treasure..."

"Ahh, you remind me of myself in my younger days. Used to go huntin' for treasure all the time." He took a massive swig of mead. "Ah, but those days're long gone. Anyhow, enough about me. What kinda treasure you lookin' for?"

Something had changed about Rudd. In their brief conversation, it seemed as though his manner of speaking had become more loose, like he was shaking off age-old rust.

"See, that's the thing. It might exist, it might not exist. We are looking for ruins. The more ancient, the better." Rudd's grip on his tankard tightened, and his eyes twinkled. Was he…getting giddy? "Specifically, ruins left by the Creators."

"Perfect." He said, smirking widely. "I got just the story for you. But first, I need to know." Picking up his tankard, he leaned in close. Shockingly, despite his looks and habits, his breath didn’t reek whatsoever. "Why do you chase a myth? You said it yourself, it might not exist. Why risk your time in this world – your life for this?"

"Why, huh? Good question." Even now, she wanted to get out of here. Every fibre of her being was yelling at her that there was something deeply wrong. The hand holding her dagger still trembled, but she refused to show her fear.

The image of Ionyr excitedly pouring over their maps and scrolls in the inn popped up in her mind. That's how she left him – he was probably still at it, excitedly waiting for her return. Sighing, she leaned her other arm on the table and rested her face in its palm. She couldn't contain the wistful smile forming on her lips, and her body from relaxing.

"Good question indeed." Rayza mumbled, covering her mouth. Rudd chuckled.

"I can guess. You act all tough, but are a real softie inside, huh?" Trying to hide her embarrassment, she turned her head towards the window and glared at him.

"Weren't you gonna tell me a story? Do your damn job and get to it." She tightened her grip on the dagger.

"Aye, I was. One moment." Rudd finished his mead and waved at the bartender before stretching. His gut shook with every movement he made. Rayza looked away – it was not pleasant to look at. Not with all that hair.

"So, you were lookin' for treasure related to the Creators – you don't need me to tell ye that their existence is mere myth." The bartender brought him two new mugs. Rudd picked up one and began playfully swirling it in his hand, letting the mead inside slosh about. "No one has yet to prove them real – and yet, there are many, many tales surrounding their existence. Have you heard of the Calamity before?"

"Of course. Who hasn't?" Rayza rolled her eyes. "I hope you got something better than that."

"Oi. What kinda lousy storyteller do you take me for?" Rudd rebuked with a grin. "Let me ask you this, then. How does the tale end?"

"How it ends?" She was confused. But also intrigued – did this mean that Rudd knew a different ending to the tale? "The Calamity is sealed on the Dead South, and everyone lives happily ever after, no?"

"That is indeed the end of the Calamity. However…it’s end is not the end of the Creators. The final part of that tale has been lost." He went to take a swig of mead and leaned back in his seat.

"And you know that part, hm?" Rudd set down his jug and chuckled.

"Smart lass. Indeed, that lost part has been preserved in this town. We know it as the tale of the Two Stars." In all their time pouring over the scriptures her father had left her, not once was a story named the Two Stars mentioned. Ionyr's nose was right on the money!

"Well, what are you waiting for? Out with it!" She asked, leaning in closer, causing Rudd to laugh merrily.

"You're an amusing one, Rayza. Sure I can't interest you in a drink?" She briefly glanced at the mead, but the stale smell quickly made her reconsider.

"No thanks. I'll be having one tale of Two Stars instead.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you please."

"Cryin' shame. Even mead this stale tastes better when shared. Especially with a pretty lady." He winked at her, causing her to sigh and go to take off her smooth leather glove. Rudd raised his hand, stopping her. "Don't bother, lass. I know." He said before clearing his throat. Wait…how did he know?

"This story happened near the end of the Calamity's onslaught. The Creators, realising what they would have to do, spent their final years working. They worked on their greatest creation yet – their final blessing for humanity."

"The two Stars, I take it?" Rudd nodded.

"Aye. The two Stars. Before they departed for the South, they sent those two Stars down to earth from their castles in the sky. One is said to have landed in the Western Isles, and the other in the East…right here, in our beautiful land of Idyllis.”

“Where exactly?” She asked, unable to hide her excitement.

“You have a map on you?" Rayza pulled a map of Idyllis from her pouch, and opened it on the table. Rudd leaned over it. "This map's incomplete." An astute observation.

"Obviously. I drew it myself." He raised an eyebrow.

"Did ye? Well, then I won't blame ye for not having this town on it – you won't find it on any map. However..." He tapped on the valley near the eastern coast. "You messed up – there’s a bay here."

"You're kidding, right?" Rayza said, annoyed that someone would try and tear down the map she drew over the course of their travels – it was like questioning the legitimacy of those adventures themselves. "If the sea level is that high, then all these settlements here should be flooded." She pointed out all the small towns and villages they’d visited along the coast.

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"Oh. I see." He chuckled awkwardly. "Don't get out much, you see."

"Even so, you shouldn't be able to confuse something this obvious." She sighed. "Anyway, you wanted to point out where the other Star fell?"

"Aye, aye. Shiver me timbers..." He mumbled, before downing the rest of his drink with one large gulp. After letting out a long sigh, he pointed out that same valley, specifically the eastern side. "Right here. The second Star fell here…or so it is said."

"Thanks." Rayza felt a little bad for snapping at him. Rudd was gazing into empty space with a forlorn look. After glancing at the untouched jug of mead, she picked it up. Why not, she thought as she had a small sip.

She gagged and coughed loudly. It tasted horrible – like it had been sitting and rotting in that jug for months. Rudd laughed loudly as Rayza pulled out her flask and gulped down half the water inside. Anything to wash away this disgusting aftertaste – oh Spirits, it was going to her nose too! She quickly pinched it shut. Hopefully this would prevent her having to smell this rotten mead for the rest of the day.

"A little strong for the lass, hm?" Rudd smirked widely, his eyes glistening with glee at her expense.

"Not strong. Fucking terrible. How do you drink so much of it?" He leaned back and downed most of her leftovers.

"After a while, you stop tasting it. Besides, the ol’ chap don't have anything else in stock." Rudd cleared his throat again, signalling that he was finally concluding his story. She packed her map and leaned in to listen. "There is a cave at the spot I pointed out. Over the years, many have gone in that cave in search of treasure. Not one person returned."

"Say, Rudd." Rayze played with her hair. "How do you know the Star is kept there?"

"How do you know the Creators exist?"

"Touché." He had her there.

"In the end, all of these myths are just that – myths. Passed from mouth to mouth, generation to generation. You should count yourself lucky that..." He paused, recognition flashing across his face. "Because you found this town, you were able to learn of the Star's existence. Nowhere else did their legend survive. Otherwise you would've known it already, right?" She nodded.

"True. I've never heard this tale before – from my father's notes, or any other storyteller." She said slowly, pensively. "But, and forgive me for saying this, it seems a little convenient. Too convenient."

"Still got a tight grip on that dagger o' yours, I see." Rudd noted. He wasn't wrong – she was still very much on edge.

"What makes you think I can trust you? Why shouldn't I believe that you people killed those adventurers trying to explore the cave?" He ran a hand through his beard.

"Now why would we do that?"

"How should I know? All I know is that this whole thing smells rotten. Worse than the mead, in fact." He leaned in and grinned.

"Ah, I see. You're afraid." He chuckled. "Afraid to gamble your life – or should I say, your lives. I can understand. It's not something anyone can do. One mistake, and poof. You're gone. For eternity. No take backs. However...how is that any different from what you're doing anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Rayza tightened her grip on the dagger, her hand trembling.

"Lass. You chase a dream, day after day. If you spend three days on an adventure that ends in failure, even if you try again, that time will not return. You only get so much of it – one day, eternal doom will come a' knockin' for you anyhow." The sound of the blinders being tossed by the wind outside resounded loudly through the tavern as they knocked against the glass.

"You're already gamblin' your life away every day. So let me tell ye this: if ye – both of ye are willin' to take the gamble on this old man's story, I will guide ye through this fog to that there cave."

“Why would we need your help? You already pointed out the right spot on the map.”

“The fog in these parts is a crafty mistress. Plays tricks on the mind.” He leaned back and spinned his walking stick between his fingers. “Shows ye things. Memories dredged up from the earth from yerself, and others. Before long…you’ll lose more than your way.”

“And how will you find your way through the fog?”

“I have my methods.” Rudd said, tapping his stick to the wooden floor. His lantern hanging from the end rattled, and its flame flickered. “Suffice to say, ye’ll need one of ours to guide ye.”

"Thanks." Rayza said, standing up and turning to leave. She then realized that all the other patrons were staring at her, as though they'd struck gold in an ancient depleted mine – for how long, she wondered with a cold sweat. There was this odd sense of foreboding dread she just couldn't shake – both from Rudd's tone of voice and their glistening eyes. She – no, they needed to get out of here. Out of this town. "I'll...we'll consider your offer." Rayza said as she headed for the door.

"Then we ride at dawn." Rudd said, laughing as she left the tavern.

Ionyr sighed and leaned back in his chair. No matter how much he poured over these scrolls, he couldn't find a single clue, nary a hint of this town's existence. Granted, they hadn't explored this part of Idyllis much – but still, why couldn't he find it on their backup map?

Rayza's father left her quite a few of them before his passing – many of them as recent as they got. But he didn’t recall seeing this town on any of them; and it was far too large and well-built for that to be the case. On top of it, their compass had been going crazy ever since they entered this fog, spinning like its life depended on it.

He needed to sort his thoughts, he realised and took out his journal from his satchel. Flipping through it, Ionyr noticed just how long ago it had been since he wrote in it. To be fair, there hadn't been much to write about. He took the dark, translucent pen attached to the last written page. Inside it, a thin, light blue line flickered to life.

"Dark blue ink. Permanent." Ionyr said, and the line changed colour to dark blue. Very useful. One of Raev's better inventions. It’s been a while since their last contact, and Ionyr couldn’t help but wonder how his old friend was doing. He should write a letter, he thought as he set the pen to paper – Spirits know how deeply engrossed Raev gets into his experiments.

I haven't written in this journal for a while. Has it been six months, or eight? It was definitely before the first snow fell, but now the wind has turned warm again. Our expeditions had been so fruitless in the last seasons that I didn't find anything worth writing about. Now, however, I can feel it – the wind of change.

Yes, the wind of change. He liked that. Had a poetic ring to it.

It's been fifteen years. Fifteen long years since Mother first told us of the Creators. Even after all those years of travelling, me and Rayza have found nary a hint as to their existence. This time, however, I sense an adventure on the horizon, one that might change everything. While trotting around the northeast of Idyllis, we stumbled into a great wall of fog. It crept up on us right around dusk, practically out of nowhere. We were lucky to happen across a small town before we got lost.

What could be more suspicious than people living in the middle of nowhere? It is a small community, yet they strike me as incredibly odd. Those we greeted on our way in met us with a blank stare. Perhaps they don't take well to outsiders, we thought. But in that case, why did they give the two of us a room in the inn without a fuss? And refused our coin on top of that. Unsurprisingly, we are the only patrons of said inn. I do wonder why they're acting so...

Ionyr lifted the pen for a moment. What was the right word? Their attitude was...as though they were hopeless…tired…crestfallen? They all fit, but it wasn't what he was looking for. 'Distant' was the best thing that came to mind. As though their minds were in a time and place far, far away from the here and now. He'd go with that.

...distant. It’s like this whole town is living beneath a grey veil. The people are so cold, even to each other. I haven't seen anyone exchange even a friendly hello, like each of them exist in their own little world. It baffles me that a community such as this can exist together.

In all our expeditions, we haven't seen anything like it. I can’t shake this feeling, like there’s something more to this town than meets the eye. Rayza has gone out to grab some supplies for our journey. Hopefully she finds something to prove me right. My nose is rarely off - and I need my curiosity sated.

But…while I can sniff out adventures, her ability to smell danger is far superior. Rayza has expressed her dislike of this place more than once. I hope she’s wrong this time, but that would be a first. She keeps telling me that I am too careless – she may be right about that.

The glow in his pen faded. Ionyr dipped it in his water flask on the table. It emanated the familiar light blue glow again shortly after. Truly marvellous, it was. Who knew that all those little gems that grew all over could be put to such use? Raev really was a genius - he could probably make a fortune off of these inventions. Ionyr wondered why he hadn’t.

As Ionyr gazed out the window, lightning flashed, illuminating the room. Rayza...he hoped she was alright. He knew she could handle herself, but he still felt a pang of anxiety every time she headed out on her own. In their first few outings, he would go after her if she’d left for barely half an hour. Eventually, she told him off for being too overbearing, and so they struck a deal that he would only look for her if she was gone for more than an hour.

Sighing, he decided to stop writing and sat down on his bed, taking out a large tome from his satchel. A good story should take his mind off things. He flipped through the pages, passing by many of the legends his mother had told him. The legend of King Firemane. The four great Spirits of Nature. The many minor spirits of the land. Finally, he smiled and stopped when he came across his favourite – the Tall Tale of Captain Jolly Roger and the Sea Monkeys.

How often had he heard this story, Ionyr wondered. He never got tired of it, no matter how often he heard it. His mother must've gotten sick of telling it, surely, he thought as he chuckled to himself. Just the idea of a band of pirate monkeys sailing around the Isles and causing mischief was enough to make him laugh – between riding cannonballs in their ship raids, stealing a town's fruit supply, and holding lavish feasts after every adventure, here was no moral or grand ambition to be found in this legend, just simple, mindless fun. A legacy to be remembered.

Ionyr found some degree of solace in it. Those times he, Ielus and their mother laughed at the many silly acts the Monkeys pulled...those times they made up their own stories to make each other laugh even more...those times were treasured memories now. He sighed and dropped onto the bed, his thoughts drifting to his brother.

He never had been the same since mother passed. Ionyr couldn't help but worry about him – shortly after his and Rayza's wedding, Ielus announced that he was going his own way and left to join the Ashen Order as a scholar. Ever since, Ionyr's letters were met with fewer and fewer answers. The last time he got one must've been more than two winters ago.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a familiar knock on the door. It was their secret knock, from when they were children.

"Come in." Ionyr said, getting up and rubbing his eyes with a smile. A figure wearing a brown cloak entered, a wet leather hood covering her face. She took off her hood, revealing her long blonde hair, tied into a high ponytail that extended past her neck into her cloak. After untying it in a swift motion, she swung her head, causing droplets of the rain to fly off it. Her long, straight and now very messy hair ran down to her mid back. God, she was beautiful, he thought as Rayza let out a relieved sigh and ran her fingers through her hair.

"How did it go?" Ionyr asked his wife as she dropped off the wet cloak on the ground, revealing the vest and pants that so tightly hugged her curves. They were completely dry. Looks like that merchant had told the truth about that cloak after all – it really must be of Northern make, with how well it warded off the horrible weather. Still soaked on the outside, though. A half-truth, maybe.

Without answering his question, she hasted over to his side. Dropping herself onto the bed beside him, she rested her wet head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around him, seeking the comfort of his embrace. He responded in kind, wrapping his hand around her, and immediately noticing her shivering. Was she cold? Ionyr quickly began rubbing her back to warm her up, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I'm not cold." Rayza said, although she was still shivering. He noticed her glancing at the door, with a tight grip on the dagger in her thigh strap.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned, but she shushed him again. She was staring intently at the door, as though waiting for something. When nothing happened, she slowly stood up and snuck up to the rickety door, holding her ear against it – listening for something. After a while of hearing nothing, Rayza beckoned him over to the table with their maps. She'd found something, Ionyr was certain of it.

“Keep your voice down.” She whispered as he sat down. “These people can't be trusted.”

“Why? What happened?” He quietly asked as she rolled open her father’s map.

“I met an old storyteller. And before you ask, yes, he had something interesting up his sleeve.” He grinned widely.

“See? Told you there was more to this town.” Rayza shook her head angrily.

“I said the same thing, and still do. That storyteller…he knew things he shouldn’t. And didn’t know things he should.” Ionyr furrowed his eyebrow.

“Like what?” She tapped on the map.

“This map is around ten years old. That means it’s as new as it gets, right?”

“Yeah…what’s your point?”

“Just how would you confuse a valley with a bay?” He was taken aback. Furrowing his eyebrow, Ionyr scratched his chin.

“That is suspicious. No one should confuse those two.” Ionyr hummed. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to read a map and never left town? Who knows. Anyway, what’s so special about that valley?” Rayza sighed.

“Spirits help me. I know if I tell you, there’ll be no stopping you.” He leaned in close.

“You’re saying there’s something good there. No, something great even.” His eyes must be giving away his excitement - he could see the exasperation in Rayza’s.

“A Star.” She then filled him in on everything - the tale of Two Stars fallen to Earth. The Creators’ final masterpieces. The more he heard, the giddier he got. When she finally concluded the story by pointing out the supposed cave’s location on the map, he shot up.

“We ride at dawn.” Her eyes went wide.

“No!” Rayza suddenly shouted, shooting up out of her chair. He froze, and so did she, glancing at the door again. Sighing, she sat back down and buried her head in her palms. “He knew you would say that. Somehow, he knew.”

“Who did? The storyteller?” She nodded.

"He also offered to lead us there himself."

"What a nice fella." Ionyr said, placing his hand on her back. "You think it’s a trap."

"I do. This whole story is too convenient." Rayza was trembling - he’d rarely seen her like this. He scooted over and pulled her into a hug, soothingly stroking her hair.

"We're two simple travellers. What could they possibly stand to gain?"

"Some people don't need personal gain to motivate them. Some just want to inflict suffering for its own sake." Her voice was trembling, too. The last time he’d seen her like this was during her father’s murder. He’d held her this same way, too.

“Rayza, look at me.” She looked up, and met his concerned gaze with her beautiful blue eyes. Ionyr pressed his lips to her forehead. “It will be fine. Think about all we’ve been through. How many dangers have we braved at the smallest sign that we might find anything on the Creators?”

“But this is different.” She said, gripping onto his shirt tightly, her fingers digging into the skin beneath. “There is something wrong here. Deeply wrong. If we stay here…the danger is too great. I can feel it.”

“You’re right. Something is wrong with this town.” Rayza’s eyes lit up with hope.

“So you agree? We should -”

“Stay and explore, yes.” It was immediately crushed.

“No!” Rayza shouted and punched him. “You will - no, we will die! There are no take backs! Don’t do this!”

“We might. We might not. In that, it is the same as our other expeditions.” He caught her wrist and pulled her close. “But the fact that something is wrong here shows that this will not be like the other adventures. We don’t have to hope to find something - we will find something. I know we will.”

“You said that about the other adventures, too.” She weakly retorted.

“But I am sure of it this time.” He put his fingers under her chin and tilted up her head to face him. “As sure as you are that the danger is greater than ever. That fact only strengthens my faith.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Rayza said, tears in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m your idiot.” Ionyr said, placing a hand on her cheek. She couldn’t help but crack a smile before their lips met. As they parted, he pulled away to gaze into those beautiful, sky-blue eyes, the ones he fell in love with so long ago. They say eyes were the window to the soul - what he saw in them was the same passion and care he carried for her. Wherever he went, she went, and the reverse was true all the same.

They leaned in for another kiss almost simultaneously. While their tongues wrestled, he picked her up and carried her to their bed. As he lowered her onto the mattress, she looked at him longingly. Ionyr slowly, deliberately removed his hands from under her. Her anticipation was building - she was biting her lip.

He then unceremoniously dropped onto the bed beside her. There was a brief silence.

"I'm tired too, you know." He said, and closed his eyes. Ionyr didn't need to see her bewildered expression to know it was there. "You were expecting something more, weren't you?" He joked, before receiving a sharp jab to his side. Worth it.

"Jerk." He laughed.

"You're cute when you're angry."

"Shut up." Rayza snapped back. Nevertheless, after a short silence, he felt her arm wrap around his chest. He put his arm around her shoulder in turn, pulling her close. "I love you." He heard her say. Opening his eyes, he found her looking up at him expectantly.

"I just can't say no to those eyes." He thought as he leaned in for another go. Pulling back, he ran a finger over her lower lip.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into Rayza’s ear. “I know you’ve been aching to try again for a while. You’ve sacrificed so much for my dream - I’d be a horrible husband if I didn’t do the same for you.”

“You better.” She whispered back before jumping on top of him and kissing him passionately.

Thankfully, the night was young - plenty of time before dawn. Plenty of time to make her dream of a family come true.