Chapter 5:

The rain was relentless in its fall.

I couldn’t just leave Elandor like that, so between the silent trees, I gathered some rocks to form a cairn for his body.

From his burned coat I pulled out his gold coated pocket watch. It was severely damaged, and ceased working, but I felt like I wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, so I stuffed it inside my pants’ pocket.

I wanted to leave the tourmaline ring with him, since he said it would expire after two more uses, which we already made, but as I looked at it, it kept shining its black inner hue back at me. Was Elandor wrong? Did it still have more power? It really didn’t matter for now. This hill was the only place outside of Willox that I ever visited, so the ring was pretty much useless for me at the moment. It could still prove useful later on though...

If someone saw such a ring on my finger, we would become a target of robbers, so I hid it along with the fluorite inside my pants pocket as well, together with the four stones I stole from the treasury. I also took Ren’s moonstone ring from her finger and tucked it in my back pocket, just in case.

After I covered Elandor’s body with the rocks, I could not even grieve or say goodbye properly as the heavy rain threatened Ren’s already fragile state, and my own. I knew I had to find a shelter for us.

I didn’t know where to go. Which direction was Peltragow? Kase? The nearest village with a healer? I decided to pick a general direction and stick with it until I learned better. Hopefully, we will stumble upon a safe place sooner rather than later.

Ren’s form pressed against my back, her arms dangling freely in front of me, as we began our journey.

Staying away from the roads, we treaded through empty fields for what felt like hours, all under the seemingly endless rain. The landscape, which was once probably green and inviting, was now subdued beneath the grey sky. The tall grass seemed to bow under the weight of the raindrops, mirroring my own mournful state. The occasional cold breeze sent shivers down my spine, while the scent of damp earth, mingled with the subtle fragrance of the rain-soaked grass and trees, filled my nose and lungs.

Unlike Frenkie, I was never physically strong. And Ren’s weight, even though light for a woman her age, labored my arms, and my feet felt like they were going numb from exhaustion and pain, yet I knew that I had to press on.

Eventually, I found a place for us to rest - an abandoned estate in the middle of an empty field. Two wooden structures, perhaps once housing the owners of this field, stood old and broken. Seeking refuge from the rain, I ventured into the less battered of the two. It was empty and full of dust, suggesting it was looted clean long before our arrival. The skeletal remains of the roof offered very little protection, and I searched for a spot untouched by the rain, finding it in the far-right corner of what I assumed was the main room of the house in the past. It was the only dry area inside.

I slowly lowered the unconscious Ren and laid her on the floor, exhaling heavily. We were finally safe from the rain, but a different problem loomed - we were both completely soaked, and with the strong winds outside – it was only a matter of time before it turned into a pneumonia. Ren’s condition was already bad, and I knew I couldn’t allow it to get any worse. I also couldn’t afford to get sick. If that happened, we were both as good as dead.

I knew that the first thing I had to do was to create a fire for us to warm up. I stepped outside the broken shelter and tried to look for dry wood. I knew that considering the state of the estate and the heavy rain, the chances were slim, but there were no other options.

I scoured the vicinity, scanning for any semblance of sheltered timber, but every branch and discarded plank proved to be a mockery – too damp and soggy to be used for anything. Realizing I wouldn’t be able to find any dry wood in the area, I quickly returned to Ren’s side. She lay in the same position I had left her in. Her delicate hands, covered by her fingerless gloves, lay quietly at her side, and out of fear, I pulled out the fluorite ring and enhanced my hearing to check if her heart was still beating. Relief washed over me as it sounded firmly in my ears.

The cold seeped through the walls and broken windows, settling into my bones and sending another chill over my body. My soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin as I surveyed the house, wondering if I could break some of the wooden floor, but that idea died out quickly as the floor seemed too damp as well.

Every nook and cranny, outside the area where I laid Ren, seemed to be touched by the rain. In an attempt to understand why that was the case, my gaze shifted upward, just above us, and I noticed a patch of smooth and undamaged wooden ceiling with a rope dangling from it. Pulling it down, I unleashed a wooden ladder at myself as a hatch to the attic swung open. I sidestepped its falling trajectory and sighed with relief as it missed me. Then, I ascended into the attic cautiously. The air there was stale, and the scent of dust lingered. I scanned the dry and empty attic, finding nothing but dust, dust, and more dust, and a small, hand-sized piece of what seemed to be the roof’s insulation, or what was left of it. It reminded me of cotton wool in its texture and color. I grabbed it and got down, believing I had everything I needed to start a fire.

Turning to the ladder, I gripped it firmly, muscles straining against the wood as I felt the weight of desperation bearing down on me. Frustration gnawed at me as the wooden ladder resisted my every attempt to tear it apart. The decrepit state of the house only intensified my irritation; it seemed ironic that the ladder - the only thing I needed from this broken place - was untouched by the decay surrounding it and posed such a challenge. I shifted angles and proceeded to apply my body weight until, finally, the ladder succumbed with a satisfying crack. The triumphant moment, however, was short-lived. I tumbled forward, landing with my hands on the sharp pieces of broken wood. Pain flared as the wood fragments embedded themselves in the skin of my hands. I gasped and watched my hands as bits of blood began to seep from my injured skin. I cleaned away all the pieces I could and took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the pain. The fire was more important.

Gathering the broken pieces of wood, I arranged them not too far from Ren, but not before bringing some mud from outside, to put under them, in order to isolate them from the soggy wooden floor as much as possible. I couldn't afford to burn our only shelter, even if it was unlikely for this floor to catch fire.

I grabbed a large piece of wood, which was formerly one of the ladder’s steps, and set it next to the pile of wood. Then, I picked up a smaller piece of wood, which I deemed to be the perfect size and shape to rub against the larger one.

I was still a ways off from actually starting the fire.

Instinctively, I reached for my belt to grab my lockpicking kit only to realize that I had left it behind in the treasury. Once the doors got blown off, it got covered by the rubble. The doors…Will…The reminder of his tragic end was heart-wrenching. I immediately recalled our talk in the corridors of the palace, before it all went down. He was such a positive person - the total opposite of me. Yet I was here, and he was…gone forever.

Luckily, Elandor’s pocket watch proved useful. I had only taken it for sentimental reasons and didn’t expect to use it for our survival, but it seemed like Elandor was watching over us even from beyond the grave.

I hit the watch against the floor a few times until its remaining shards of glass disconnected and fell on the floor. I carefully took the largest of the shards and wrapped it with the end of my sleeve to protect my hands from getting even more injured. I brought the shard against the large piece of wood and began moving it until I created a flat surface. Then, using the edge of the same shard, I created a groove down the center of the flat surface to use as a track to guide the smaller piece of wood later on.

Now, the physical part of the task had begun. I crouched above the large piece of wood, securing it firmly under my foot, and began rubbing the small piece against it through the track I had created with the glass. My muscles tensed as I pressed down, hands moving in tandem. However, despite my attempts, the wood remained obstinate, refusing to catch fire. Undeterred, I adjusted my technique, recalibrating the pressure and pace, but the spark continued to elude me. Beads of frustration mingled with the sweat on my forehead as the room echoed with the sounds of my failed efforts. I groaned heavily in desperation.

As I gazed upon Ren’s still and vulnerable form, a sense of helplessness clawed at me.

“I’m sorry, Ren.” I addressed the empty room. “Out of all the people you could’ve been stuck with to save your life, I’m sorry it had to be me.”

I shook my head and slapped both of my cheeks with my hands. Get a hold of yourself already! Stop crying and pitying yourself and get to work. If you don’t create a fire, both of you will die.

I took a deep breath and tried again. Just as hope was about to leave me, smoke began rising from the wood. I rubbed the stick some more and finally had the long-awaited ember. I brought the cotton wool-like material closer, so the ember could ignite it, then exhaled on it to maximize the ember’s effect. The fire was quick to appear as the roof’s insulation began burning in my hands. I dropped it into the wood stack, covered it with some wood chips, and watched as the fire slowly began to spread, creating a small bonfire.

My heart was momentarily filled with joy, but then I remembered our wet clothes. We were both soaking wet. With or without the fire, we needed a dry change of clothes to avoid getting sick, but I had no idea where we could find any. I didn’t even know where we were at the moment.

The unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps broke through the falling rain. Panic surged within me, and I peeked outside the window and scanned the surroundings. I braced myself for the worst, half-expecting the champions to have tracked us down already - the demonic Leon Valter, coming to finish what he started. Or worse, Alaric Belton coming for the calcite like he told me he would. With the best tracker in the kingdom, Axel Bane, they surely wouldn’t need much time.

I tensed as the steps drew closer and activated the fluorite ring on my finger to analyze the approaching threat, only to realize the sound of steps was muffled by the sound of chimes.

Chimes?

Suddenly, jovial laughter pierced the quiet gloom, accompanied by the rhythmic jingling of bells.

My senses heightened, and I clutched the small stick I had just used to create the fire, as a makeshift weapon. I faced the incoming sounds, with Ren behind my back, ready to defend her and what little shelter we’d found. Then, the laughter transformed into a merry exclamation, and a figure entered the broken house. It was an old man, draped in layers of thick winter coats, with an extremely large backpack – almost his size - on his back. His colossal hat was a peculiar sight as well, adorned with an assortment of at least ten different types of bells, crowning his head.

With a heartiness that defied the weather, he let out a joyous exhale. “Oh, thank you, great Vitara! For helping me find shelter from this rain.”

As the stranger’s eyes swept over the dimly lit space, they locked onto mine. I stiffened, uncertain of what to expect.

His demeanor shifted from mirth to surprise, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the unexpected sight of me, and Ren huddled in the corner. He extended a cautious hand in a gesture of peace. “Easy there, young one. No need for weapons. I mean you no harm.”

My grip on the stick tightened. The stranger’s presence had me on edge, and I remained vigilant, waiting for any sign of deception. But who was I trying to fool? In my current state, even this old man would be able to overpower me.

Once he realized I wasn’t going to drop the stick, he halted his approach. His eyes flickered between Ren, me, and the fire I had just lit. The bonfire seemed to ignite a spark within his own eyes. “Always nice to meet some handy young fellas.” He said, excitement filling his voice. “Warming up with a nice fire is a great idea in this terrible weather.”

I remained quiet, scanning him further and readying myself for anything he could throw at me, but he just kept watching us and grinning. “My, my, look at you – you look like a drowned rat who just auditioned for a river dance!” he laughed, before he looked at Ren. “You both are!”

I had no idea what that even meant, but before I could say anything, he apologized. “Forgive me, this old man’s sense of humor gets the better of him sometimes.” he said before pointing at Ren. “Is she okay?”

I remained silent. I didn’t know who this man was, but I was getting an eerie feeling from him. He seemed too joyous for his own good. People like that didn’t exist.

“Not the trusting type, I see.” he said, a smile on his face. “Well, I can’t blame you. Times are rough these days.”

As I continued staring at him silently, he just kept grinning and rubbing his hands together while slowly approaching us and the bonfire I had created.

“Do you mind sharing the fire with me?” he asked, his tone sincere. “It is so very cold outside.”

“I do mind.” I fired back quickly.

“Oh, with all that quietness, I was afraid you were unable to speak!” he laughed. “Good to know I was wrong.”

“Who are you?” I asked cautiously.

“The name’s Belferon. Wanderer, seeker of tales, and a devoted follower of Vitara.” he replied, his smile widening and revealing missing teeth. “What about you two?”

“Why do you care?” I asked, still on guard.

Initially, he seemed surprised by my reaction but then he immediately smiled again. “Why, you ask? Because meeting strangers along the way is one of the greatest joys of life!”

I did not react to his words, so he continued. “I can tell when I’m not welcome, though.” he said, disappointment heavy in his voice. “Guess I’ll be on my way, then. Don’t want to be a thorn in your side.”

Reminding myself of how dire our situation was, I understood I could not drive this man away. I didn’t trust him one bit, but who knows when we’ll stumble upon someone else? And I needed a healer for Ren. At the very least, he could offer me some directions.

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“You can stay.” I said as I sat beside Ren and the fire, the stick in my hand still pointing in his direction. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

He smiled and exclaimed jovially. “Oh Vitara, bless this young man for his great generosity!” He took his large backpack off his shoulders and laid it on the floor, before sitting next to the fire, right across from me.

Despite how weird this man looked, travelers like him weren’t a rarity in Willox. As the capital of the kingdom, it was always an obvious stop for many travelers and adventurers. Some of them always carried unique items they found or retrieved along their journeys and offered them to city folks, who almost never ventured outside the big city. After all, when you live in the capital of the kingdom that claims to be the center of the world, why would you ever want to leave?

I don’t know how or when it started, but through those exchanges, a universal rule was born - one must always trade with a traveler fairly. An eye for an eye. A tit for tat. If your exchange with a traveler was not balanced out, it angered the goddess of justice – Predar - and bad luck was sure to follow. I never believed in superstitions until last night. Might as well not try my luck against the universe now.

Since I had nothing to offer him except the minerals I stole from the treasury and our fire, I decided to play my hand slowly and patiently.

“I didn’t say you could sit with us.” I said sharply. “I only said you can stay.”

He looked surprised and awkward, as if he were embarrassed for misunderstanding me and overstepping my generosity, and was about to stand up, before I stopped him. “You can sit next to the fire.” I pointed out. “But only if you do something for me first.”

“Why of course!” He laughed. “I wasn’t planning on freeloading. What do you need, my young friend?”

Where do I start? I felt like we were missing so much that I suddenly couldn’t even think of what we needed the most. Eventually, my soaking clothes reminded me of the first priority. “We need something warm. Do you have a blanket perhaps?” I asked.

Not a second had passed since my request before he was already reaching inside his backpack, and my anxiety heightened. The man delved into his belongings while my muscles tensed in anticipation of an impending threat. Surprisingly, he retrieved two sets of dry clothes. There was a faded blue long-sleeved shirt paired with brown trousers for me, and a similar green shirt and black trousers for Ren. He also pulled out two similar black coats and two pairs of black leather boots, and I wondered how much space he had in that backpack to so conveniently travel with sets of clothes that didn’t even look his size.

“I wish I had some sweaters, but hopefully the coats will make up for it.” He said apologetically.

“It will suffice.” I nodded. At this point, I was happy with anything I could get.

I analyzed the clothes for anything strange, but they looked normal to me.

“Turn around and take a few steps toward the exit.” I commanded him.

He smiled and complied. “Sure thing.”

As I changed, the warmth and dryness brought by the fresh attire alleviated some of the chill that had settled in my bones. Still, I couldn’t shake off the suspicion lingering in my mind about Belferon’s motives. We were in the middle of nowhere. I knew how we got here, but how and why did he?

“You’re probably wondering why I have fresh sets of clothes in my backpack?” He asked cheerfully, his back still to me.

“The thought had crossed my mind.” I admitted.

“It’s a habit of mine to carry extra clothing for unexpected friends I could meet along the way.” He said jovially. “You never know when someone might need a change, and these old bones have learned to be prepared.”

His answer did the opposite of reassuring me. It was weird no matter how you looked at it, yet I decided not to press the matter for now.

With the new clothes providing comfort, my attention shifted to Ren, still unconscious and soaked from the rain. I knew I had to change her clothes to prevent her condition from worsening - an idea that made me feel extremely uneasy, especially considering my feelings for her.

“I can give you a fresh towel as well.” Belferon suddenly offered. “To dry your wife before you change her attire.”

My wife?

“She’s actually my sister.” I lied quickly. I wasn’t sure why, but lying that she was my wife felt worse than lying that she was my sister.

“Oh, my bad then, it’s just that you don’t look much alike, so I thought you were a couple.” He said apologetically. “The offer still stands, though. For the towel.”

“No need.” I decided to pass on the towel. For now, he was still in my debt since I offered him both fire and company for the sets of clothes, but if I wasn’t careful, the whole situation could turn on me, and I would be the one indebted.

I swallowed my discomfort and quickly and respectfully changed Ren’s clothes while she remained unconscious. I hoped she wouldn’t kill me when she woke up. Then, I laid our wet clothes on the floor next to us, realizing there was nothing I could hang them on to dry. After that, I called Belferon back.

“Now that’s more like it.” He smiled at me as he approached his backpack, and I tensed up again, preparing myself for anything he could throw at me.

“Here, take this as well.” He said before pulling a large black sleeping bag from his backpack. “It will help her get warmer faster.”

The suggestion was tempting. I knew that in her state, Ren needed as much care as I could possibly give her, but considering I needed more things from him, I knew I had to think of a way to balance the exchange first.

He noticed my turmoil and spoke, grinning. “It’s free of charge.”

I accepted the offer as long as it was free. I pointed the stick at him before signaling for him to step back and leave the sleeping bag on the floor. After he complied, I approached and picked it up.

“Keep your distance.” I warned him before I helped Ren into the sleeping bag, closing it so only her head was popping out.

“She looks sick.” He said worriedly. “You both are, but especially her.”

I nodded.

“Would you like me to take a look?” He offered. ”I’m a bit versed in herbology. Might have something for her.”

I shook my head. I did not trust him enough to let him get anywhere near her, let alone give her whatever herbs he was planning on giving her. Then, I was suddenly reminded of the rhodonite stone in my pocket. It could help Ren. but I didn’t know how to use it without hurting myself in the process. But maybe Belferon knew?

“Are you perhaps versed in magic as well?” I asked, my voice hopeful.

He scanned me with his gaze, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I was. In the past. Was never too good at it, so I left it all behind to follow my true purpose in life. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that I happen to have a rhodonite stone.” I replied. “But I don’t know how to use an unrefined one.”

“I see.” Belferon said without moving from his spot.

“Would you be able to heal my sister with it?” I asked, before turning it into an offer. “You’d be welcome to stay with us if you can.”

He shook his head from side to side, and the bells on his hat jingled. “I can try, my young friend, but let me tell you this straight up - I haven’t practiced magic for quite some time now, so I doubt I’ll manage to make much of a difference. I do have some mixed herbs here - that would be of much greater help.”

He was reaching for his backpack to get the herbs, and I stopped him. “No.” I said firmly. “Only the rhodonite.”

He sighed but nodded regardless. “I’ll try my best. What does she suffer from exactly?”

Telling him the truth would only make him ask more questions that I wasn’t willing to answer. “I don’t know.” I lied. “She just fainted on me in the middle of our journey.”

He nodded skeptically but reached his hand out to me. I pulled out the rhodonite from my pocket and gave it to him, and he approached Ren’s sleeping body.

“No funny ideas.” I warned him and he nodded.

He crouched beside her while holding the red stone in his right hand and looked focused. The rhodonite began glowing in his hand as he moved it slowly above Ren, starting from her head and ending up at her toes, before returning back to her head. I was hoping she would wake up, but that was not the case - she remained asleep.

“I did what I could, my boy, but she does need professional medical attention. I’m not sure what she suffers from, but even in more skilled hands than mine, a single rhodonite wouldn’t have sufficed. Perhaps a turquoise can help. And an actual healer.” He said as he stood up and gave me the stone back. It looked bland, suggesting the unrefined mineral had expired.

Well, hopefully, it eased some of her pain. It certainly saved her from a possible pneumonia and, at the very least, it should’ve provided her with enough nutrients for her body to keep going for the time being. It would’ve been troublesome to feed an unconscious Ren.

Meanwhile, Belferon returned to his spot next to the fire across from me, his eyes twinkling with delight. Suddenly, he leaped back to his backpack as if struck by an idea. “Just you wait, my young friend!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as rummaged through his belongings with great enthusiasm. “I know what will make our meeting even better!”

He pulled out what looked like a metal tripod and grill grate, setting it over the fire. At this point, I stopped questioning the real size of that backpack as it seemed bottomless, and wondered if runic magic was at play here.

My initial thoughts of sizzling meat and the comforting aroma of a barbecue were quickly dispelled, as instead of meat, he pulled out a large sack filled with a variety of vegetables – hand-sized mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, sliced potatoes, tomatoes, and even corn. I knew I couldn’t actually eat his food without going into debt, but the idea of grilled meat still sounded tempting. I watched, a mixture of surprise and disappointment on my face, as he placed each vegetable carefully on the grill.

“You were expecting meat.” He said before bursting into laughter. “But sadly for you – I’m a vegetarian!”

I remained silent.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you why I became a vegetarian.” He said, the tone of his voice suggesting it was going to be a very long story.

I never even questioned that, yet here he was, sharing his life stories.

“You understand I can’t pay you, right?” I asked, cutting his story short. I needed to set boundaries. If he continued offering me things, expecting something in return, he was going to end up disappointed. I was not willing to trade the hematite or even the moonstone for some vegetables, as I could keep going without food or water for at least three more days. I had already learned my limits back when I was still living on the streets of Willox.

He looked surprised by my words. “I never said I needed any payment.”

I was left puzzled. There was no way he was willing to help two strangers he met along the way without expecting anything in return.

“At least not of the material type.” He continued.

Here we go.

“Then, what?” I asked.

He grinned. “Why, a company of a stranger, of course!”

I stared at him silently, trying to figure out if he was a lunatic who had run away from the crazy house or just the most energetic grandpa I’ve ever seen.

“Well, you have it.” I eventually said before falling silent again, hiding my hands inside the coat’s sleeves.

“Not like this.” He said, his smile weakening. “You need to talk.”

“To talk?” I echoed. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to sit beside the fire and silently grieve over the loss of my friends. To warm myself and try to forget the images I had witnessed. My friends didn’t just die - they were brutally murdered. And by the kingdom’s so-called heroes, no less. No one would ever believe me if I told them that. Morthryga’s champions, adored by all, were the definition of grace in the eyes of most citizens. Couldn’t be further from the truth…

Just a few hours ago, I was still in that cursed treasury. And now I was sitting here, forced to shut my feelings down so I could focus on our survival. My survival. Just like in the old days…Before the Blood Moon Foxes.

“What’s up with your hat?” I asked as I began paying him with words.

His eyes lit up with excitement. “Now that’s surprising, my young friend!”

“What is?” I wondered.

“The first thing people usually ask me is for my destination or origin. They only ask about my hat after their third question.” He replied.

“Weird people you meet, if their first two questions are not about the hat…or the magical backpack.” I said.

He grinned. “Straight into the peculiarities, then. A refreshing change.”

“I’ve learned not to waste time on trivialities.” I said coldly. “So, the hat?”

He continued smiling as he touched its tip. “This hat is my current traveling companion.”

“Current?”

“Yes! I’m glad you asked.” He said, the excitement in his voice growing. “I have ten more like this back at home. Each bell represents a place, a moment, a person. It carries the echoes of my journey.”

I crossed my arms, tucking my hands into my armpits for warmth. “Echoes, huh?”

He nodded. “Whether joyous or somber, they contribute to the melody of life. What about your journey, young friend? What echoes do you carry?”

I evaded the question. “My echoes are my own. Don’t need a hat to remind me.”

“Fair enough. We all carry burdens. The hat is just a way to share mine, to find solace in the echoes.” He leaned in, seemingly earnest.

I switched the subject. “What about the bottomless backpack?”

He chuckled. “Ah, the backpack! It’s a bit like life, you see. The more you explore, the more you find.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Life, a bottomless backpack? I’m more inclined to believe in limits.”

He smiled. “Limits, my friend, are often self-imposed. What we think we can’t do is only a reflection of our perceptions.”

“Quite the philosopher you are.” I noted, growing slightly tired of the way he spoke. “I’d still rather believe in limits and stay alive, rather than challenge them and end up in the gutter.”

He laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. But isn’t optimism a brighter path than constant skepticism?”

“From my experience, optimism usually tends to get people killed.” I said firmly, as I couldn’t shake the memories of what happened in the treasury. It all happened because we were too optimistic. We should have kept our heads down and acknowledged our place in the world, instead of trying to pursue an honorable life…something which was clearly never meant for us.

He seemed thoughtful. “But death will take us all eventually, shouldn’t we enjoy the journey at least? And how can you enjoy it when you’re constantly thinking about the end?”

“Enjoying the journey while watching your back can be quite the balancing act.” I answered.

He leaned in, his eyes gleaming. “Balance, my young friend, is the key to the dance of the grand ball of life.”

His look on life seemed too optimistic for me, and very impractical.

Life was not a dance.

If it were, everyone would have an opportunity to stand up whenever they fell, but life was not like that. When you fell you got trampled. And enough trampling would send you to your grave. Life was about not falling down in the first place. Because falling meant your doom. Situations and people would try to get you down constantly, sometimes even life itself would try to bring you down. The whole point was to not let it break you. You take the hits, but you keep standing. That’s what life was about.

“Life is not a ball.” I said simply.

He seemed surprised. “What is it then?”

I shrugged. “Life is life. Being alive is enough.”

“But is being alive the same as living?” he asked.

“When you are born, the only thing handed to you is your life. The rest is a luxury.” I said, a serious expression on my face.

“But isn’t life itself a luxury given to us from above? Many babes die stillborn without ever experiencing it.” He countered. “By viewing your life as simple survival, aren’t you taking it for granted?”

“I don’t take anything for granted.” I answered, my voice sharp. How could I take anything for granted when sometimes even the smallest things managed to secure me some food to survive the day.

“Even the beauty around you?” he asked, a soft smile on his lips.

What beauty was he talking about? My friends had just been viciously murdered right in front of my eyes as I just stood there, taking in the view. I had to bury my friend under a pile of rocks. The pouring rain continued battering me as I carried my only surviving companion through it all. Even the creation of a simple fire was a gruesome task. But I couldn’t allow myself to complain - I was still alive, and that was all that mattered.

“Beauty doesn’t matter.” I replied. “Only survival.”

“Doesn’t beauty make the struggle worthwhile, though?” he asked.

I ignored his words and remained silent. Who even has the time to stop and look around for beauty these days? Who even has that luxury? Maybe when this is all over, and we’re safe in Kase, I’ll be able to appreciate anything other than being alive. But until then, what was the point?

“I see I won’t be able to change your view on life.” He said, the same smile remaining on his face.

I remained quiet. I think I’ve spoken enough to repay him.

“It was an interesting talk, nonetheless.” He continued. “You sound very wise for someone your age. Tell me, how old are you?”

“Old enough.” I replied and he laughed.

“Will you at least tell me your name, lad?”

I hesitated before fabricating a false name for myself. “Jared.”

“Nice to meet you, Jared.” He smiled. “And your sister?”

“Eva.” I lied again.

“Very beautiful names. Both of you.” he said, grinning.

“How does the backpack work?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“A mage never tells his secrets.” He said, still grinning.

“You said you weren’t a mage anymore.” I reminded him of his previous words.

“I guess you’re right.” He nodded. “To be frank, I have no idea myself. I assume it has some ancient rune inscribed on it somewhere, but I’ve never actually seen it with my own eyes, so I just accepted the fact that it’s bottomless and weightless. I won it in a game of cards three winters ago, from some really old man.”

I eyed him questioningly. Old man? How old was he for Belferon to call him an old man?

“Way, way, older than me.” he elaborated, noticing my gaze and trying to clear the confusion. “Pretty sure he was a real mage. An old-school one.”

His eyes shifted to the grill, and he excitedly jumped up. “Ooh, I think it’s ready!”

He pulled two metallic plates from his backpack and handed one to me, before putting some of the vegetables from the grill on it. “Be careful.” He warned. “The plate will get hot underneath as well.”

I nodded. Truth was, my hands were freezing albeit the fire, so I didn’t really mind the warmth.

He took a bite of the grilled mushroom as he looked outside the house and watched the rain. “It doesn’t seem like the rain will die anytime soon.” He said.

“The first rain of each winter is usually the longest here.” I replied, sharing some of the life experience I’d gathered over my time living on the streets of Willox.

“Is that so?” he asked, taking another bite of the mushroom. “It’s my first winter in these parts.”

“Where are you heading?” I asked as I took a bite from the corn.

He laughed. “People usually ask me this question first.”