The wind rustled through the leaves like a snake slithering through the grass.

The forest was quiet, except for the occasional cries of animals and beasts.

I felt the rough texture of the tree behind me; it felt uncomfortable. I leaned forward, my eyes stopping at the faceless figure, Mark.

The fire sizzled, casting a light on his faceless figure—warm and bright. His expression was unreadable, but there was the irony, he did not really have a face.

It was as if he had worn a skin mask atop his face, hiding his facial features.

"I hope you have stared enough, Mr. Cyrus." He said, and I jolted back to attention.

"I apologize," I said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest; I did not care, after all.

He hummed, playing with the fire, a small stick in his hands.

"Now that you're awake"—he said, and stood up—"I think It's time for me to return to my lord and for you to return home. just a week has passed since you entered the tutorial, so do not worry." He said. I wasn't surprised. Time dilation was a thing, and I was familiar with it.

Though more than a year equal to a week was really strange.

I sighed and noticed that my surroundings were dark, extremely so.

'It's night?' I thought, peering around at my surroundings.

The moon—the third and last of the three in total—seemed to shimmer in the night, like it always had.

The moment I looked back, the faceless was gone, leaving behind nothing but air.

I sighed, starting my journey home.

Even though there were faster ways of transportation, I liked to travel by foot—damn you, Kal, you old coot, for rubbing off your tendencies on me. I chuckled.

It took me a while, but I managed to get back home without any serious setbacks, except for the few beasts I had to kill, and kill I did.

***

'Zavier's as bustling as ever,' I noted, taking a deep breath as the distant sound of shouts and different noises wafted inside my ears.

I stepped forth, giving the guards at the entrance my identification—my real identification as my mask had been broken and I was just tired of hiding inside my own home—so that I could enter without any hassle.

'No one recognizes me,' I sighed in relief, elated at the thought. It was good, no one should remember me, right?

After my tiring journey, I didn't have the energy to loiter around Zavier; I'd do it sometime later.

I needed a break, especially after what had happened, what I had come to know.

Something I was definitely not ready to face.

I headed straight toward my house—the word sounded strange, It had been a long time, too long for my comfort, since I'd been here—near the noble district.

I was of noble descent, but my family was being suppressed by others.

My father had run away, leaving behind a mother and a sister for me to take care of. My sister had gotten married, but still, he had run away. A coward. That's what the people called him. A coward who had fled after a miserable defeat.

Even then, I was not able to take care of my family. That day, five years ago, I had fallen, assumed dead, and had to be away from my family for five years. I was eight back then, and I was thirteen at the moment. Five years didn't seem that long, but, they were long enough to form a crack in our relationship.

I had just returned back home recently, my fourteenth birthday was but a month away.

The sidewalk was damp from the melting snow, the sunlight gleamed through them, forcing me into a child's game of leapfrog over the pools of water.

I smiled, a memory resurfacing. When I was little, my sister and I had so much fun after the rains or the melting snow, jumping in puddles and scattering water with our matching boots.

My smile faltered a little, but I forced it on my face like I always do—force it till you make it.

Those times were long past, but I drew in a deep, clean breath—ignoring the smell of meat and other delicacies wafting in the air—and for a moment, those times were somehow with me again.

***

I took in a deep breath, ringing the doorbell.

After a few moments of suffocating silence, an audible sound of muffled footsteps sounded.

I grew a bit tense.

The door opened, and my sister's head popped from inside. She was taller than me. With short red hair, and fiery red eyes. With her small nose atop her delicate yet fierce face, she looked stunning.

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Her complexion changed instantly; she seemed genuinely happy.

She stepped forward, wanting to hug me. But for some reason, many things passed through my mind: the things that had happened recently; how the world was fake, I was fake, she—my one and only sister—was fake, my mom was fake, my daughter . . . everything was fake.

Everything was fake?

I stiffened on my spot, skidding backward slightly.

"Oh," she let out an awkward but disheartening sound, her eyes losing their luster slightly as she moved away so that I could enter.

"Welcome, Ed. Come in." She said, scratching her right shoulder with her left hand.

I was uncomfortable. But so was she.

The reason for my discomfort was the recent happenings whereas hers was a bit different.

I'd been away from my family for nearly five years—presumed dead—and I had recently returned.

It had been a long time since she'd last seen me, and we both knew that we needed time.

Sighing I reluctantly gave her a quick hug from the side—much to her surprise if her widening eyes were of any indication.

She blamed herself, I knew—for what had happened that day.

"I . . . " I began slowly, "I know it's been a while, but I want to . . . mend our relationship, big sister," I said.

I wanted that, I needed that. I couldn't live without them, I knew, and the recent developments had made that a literal fact.

"You," she said slowly, still shocked that I had hugged her so suddenly. "You don't hate me?" she asked. "You know, I was the reason you fell down, i-I . . . "

"I don't . . . hate you," I reassured. "I just need time."

"Okay," she said, sounding relieved.

"Come on, let's go." She dragged me inside. "Nora has been . . . " She smiled weirdly. "Throwing a tantrum . . . "

I genuinely stiffened; the surprise was too much.

'What?' I thought, shaken at the mere thought that my cute little angel could throw a tantrum of all things. Impossible. Blasphemy!

I quickly followed behind Leia, and my pace only quickened when I heard some noises in the distance.

"—no! I want to meet ma—"

I ran inside the living room and froze at the sight in front of me.

My mom sat atop a couch, holding Lena, my sister's daughter, and my niece, in her arms. while Nora was smashing things with her feet—the things were toys, though that was another matter altogether.

"I want! To!—"

"Nora stop." I snapped. "Do that again and see what I do . . . " I regretted what I said immediately. She had been nothing but a docile cute little daughter, I had never spoken to her angrily. Never.

But my mind filled with a jumble of thoughts was the recipe for doing something I'd never done before—And that was snapping at Nora.

Nora stiffened, looking back at me with her golden eyes filled with fear, which soon glistened with tears.

'Oh . . . no.'

I got depressed, what had I done? "I-I am sorry Nora," I said, but it was too late as her frightened figure soon changed as she growled.

"Grr . . . I am not scared of you anymore! Things won't go your way anymore. You old man!" she growled, pouncing at me with her small fists raised to strike me.

I blinked, her words sinking into my system.

'My Nora . . . What happened to her?' I thought, as my heart tore apart at her angry gaze.

"I hate you!" she cried, thumping her fists in my stomach, over and over again. "First you go out for weeks! Then you come back and . . . And!" she finally broke down, crying in my arms.

"I . . . "

"Nora likes mommy more than you! old ma-" her mouth was covered by my hands before she could finish talking. "Mhmmph!"

Letting out a nervous chuckle, I peeked at mom and sis, hoping that somehow they did not hear what she said

And god hadnI regretted doing so, as what greeted me were their probing eyes.

Snapping my eyes away from their gaze, I quickly took Nora inside her room. All the while, she clung to me like a koala.

I sneaked a peak behind, finding mom leading Lena somewhere, probably her room. As I saw them leave, the image of my fiancée popped up inside my mind, and I couldn't help but think.

'They are so gonna ask about her, aren't they??'

***

I shuffled inside Nora's room. A room filled with stuffed toys: mainly bunnies—Nora liked bunnies, a lot—a cat, and some soft pillows, resting on her little bed.

Ugh, I groaned; her room was a mess. Not exactly, but the stuffed toys were lying around on her bed, and I did not like that.

I put Nora on the bed, and she quickly turned her back to me. I groaned.

"Look . . . " I began slowly. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know it would take that long. Besides, I'm not really in the right state of mind these days—that's why I snapped at you. I'm sorry . . . " I apologized.

Not getting a response, I sighed, slumping beside her on the bed, scooting her a bit so that I could fit in.

"You okay, old man?" I heard a voice, barely a whisper, and looked at Nora in bewilderment.

"What's with this 'old man' thing? Why are you calling me that??"

"Because Nora wants to!"

I deadpanned. 'What happened to her?' I thought, sighing for the umpteenth time.

"I miss mama . . . " Nora whispered again, clinging on to me.

I looked at her. She was like me, in more ways than I could admit.

White hair, golden eyes, a pale complexion, and handsome—well, In her case, beautiful- no, adorable could be the right word.

"I miss her too," I lied, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

Giving her a last peck on the cheeks, I limped out of the room.

Oh, how much I wished this talk could be avoided.

***

"So, who's the mommy? Didn't you say she didn't have one?" Leia asked, her arms crossed on her chest.

"It's not that she doesn't have a mother, I just said that I don't know where her 'real' mom, is." I groaned while I said, using gestures to confirm that the meaning behind my words was understood.

Other than that, I hoped that, for one reason or another, she'd forget about this.

"Oh, no, no. That, my brother, I know. What I am asking is who is the 'mommy'? who is, apparently, liked by Nora more than 'daddy' huh?"—she gasped as her hands moved behind—"Haah, wait wait wait wait WAIT!" she shouted, shaking my shoulders. "Omigod! omigod! Tell me you didn't find some sugar mama and BLEEP her!? Is Nora your real daugh- " before the imaginary stars could shine brighter than they already were, I put a stop to it, but not before groaning aloud.

"For god's sake, woman! Can you stop with your weird fantasies? Please!?"

While Leia was a 'good' big sister . . . She could get a bit overboard with her . . . Imagination.

'Too overboard . . .' I thought, shuddering as I remembered some memories.

'Yeah, let's forget about them.'

"I did not find any type of sugar mama! That's It!"

Strange . . . Why was I getting too expressive in my emotions? I was not like that, not at all. I was literally trained to hide and suppress my emotion in the last five years, so why was I losing myself?

I frowned, suspicious at the whole thing before shrugging my shoulders.

It was probably nothing.

"Just wait here for a bit," I said, walking away as I beelined toward my room. "Where are you going??" a shout resounded from behind, but I didn't reply and simply shuffled inside my room, searching for an item.

I'd been away from it for a while now; from the day I'd stepped inside my house, I had hidden it away—I wasn't ready to explain anything that time; heck, I wasn't ready even now, but I knew that the situation called for an answer.

My sister was many things, and stubbornness was definitely one of them—she wouldn't stop pestering me until I satiated her 'thirst' for answers.

I sighed, holding onto a box. There was something inside. I wanted to hide that 'something' as long as possible . . . but alas.