We went our separate ways.

My pace quickened as the rain intensified, soaking through my newly repaired clothes. People darted across the streets, shielding themselves with whatever they could find, desperate to escape the downpour. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night. The cold, damp air wrapped around me like a familiar cloak—it reminded me of home. Back there, people were just as unfeeling as the weather. But here… people seemed different. Less self-centered. Or maybe I was losing my edge. Hard to say.

Not wanting to catch a cold, I slipped into the nearest building and let out a breath of relief. The Diamond Eyes tavern greeted me with the hum of quiet chatter and the scent of old wood and ale. Behind the counter, Phobe poured a beer for a patron, her face a bit sleepy. My gaze drifted across the room, landing on a familiar figure—Mox, the Noxivera from Redwood. She sat alone at a table, her crimson skin and wings standing out against the dimly lit backdrop as she quietly ate her breakfast.

“Ah!” Phobe greeted warmly as I approached the counter. “Axel! Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Getting by,” I replied, shrugging off the rain from my sleeves. “You?”

“Better, now that things have settled,” she said, bending down to grab something. When she straightened, a grin spread across her face as she held up a familiar dog. “Look who’s here!”

She gently hoisted Gentle Gerald into view, supporting the old dog’s frail body. The three-legged mutt barked softly in recognition before hopping onto the counter and licking my face with surprising vigor. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, staring into his tired but kind eyes. His body bore scars from countless tortures probably, but he was still kicking.

“Still hanging in there, huh?” I muttered, patting Gerald twice on the head. The dog wagged his tail lazily before Phobe put him down.

“Who’s the good dog? You are. Who’s the mother’s favorite? You are.”

“Do you have olive bread?” I asked, settling onto a stool.

Phobe raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Olive bread? First thing in the morning? What, you on some fancy diet now?”

“Kind of,” I replied dryly.

“Well, no luck here, kid,” she said, tossing the rag she was holding onto her shoulder. She gestured toward the window, where the rain was hammering down mercilessly. “This weather, though. You’d think the gods had a grudge against us.”

“Is it always like this in Kinowa?” I asked, glancing outside.

“Oh, you bet,” she said with a small laugh. “Rain’s practically a local tradition.”

I leaned back, exhaling softly. “Feels familiar.”

Phobe tilted her head at that, but before she could press further, a voice cut in from behind me.

“Well, well,” Mox said, sliding onto the stool beside mine, her wings shifting slightly. “If it isn’t the great savior of the Queen himself.”

“Mox,” I acknowledged with a slight nod. “Morning.”

“You two know each other?” Phobe asked, glancing between us as she wiped down the counter.

“Hardly,” Mox replied with a chuckle, her crimson lips curling. “We’re not exactly in the same social circle. He’s in F-class, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Phobe said with a knowing smirk. “So where’d you meet?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I crossed my arms, my tone even. “I’d never seen a Noxivera before coming to Kinowa, so I stared a little too long when I saw her. She took it personally.”

Mox leaned her elbow on the counter, her grin widening. “Scared him half to death,” she said, her voice teasing. “You should’ve seen him.”

“Really?” Phobe raised an eyebrow. “I thought Kora—the village you came from—had a few Noxivera living there. I even know---knew one of them. He was a sweet man. Had two kids.”

“I…” My voice faltered for a split second before I forced a reply. “Yeah, but… I wasn’t exactly social back then. Never really got close enough to talk to one.”

“Huh,” Mox murmured, clearly unconvinced, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s a shame, though,” Phobe interjected, her tone softening as she returned to cleaning the counter. It seemed like she bought my half-assed lie. “What happened to Kora is just horrible. Poor people.”

I nodded, forcing a neutral expression. Inside, my mind raced. It wasn’t often I slipped up with words—I’d always prided myself on knowing how to steer a conversation, having a silver tongue. But Phobe had nearly caught me. Another reminder of why I avoided sharing too much about myself. The fewer people knew, the safer I was.

Mox’s gaze lingered on me, heavy and probing. I pretended not to notice, focusing instead on Gerald, who had nestled under my stool. He lay there quietly, licking at his scars.

“You found yourself a team yet?” Mox asked, her sharp gaze lingering on me.

“Team?” I leaned back slightly. “For what, quests or something?”

“The tournament,” she clarified, taking a slow sip from her glass. “You should join.”

I shook my head, my tone dismissive. “I’m good. Fighting really isn’t my thing.”

“Oh?” Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “After the forest fiasco, I’d think you’d at least try your luck. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

I responded with a noncommittal hum, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Phobe wiped her hands on her apron as she turned to Mox. “Want anything while you’re here? I’ve got some fresh peach juice.”

“I’ll take that,” Mox said, sliding a silver coin onto the counter. She tilted her head back toward me, her wings shifting slightly as she spoke. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I muttered.

“Same,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Woke up at five. This damn storm had me up, and I haven’t been able to get any decent rest since.”

“Yeah, weather’s been rough.” I glanced at the droplets streaking down the window.

Phobe placed a glass of peach juice in front of Mox. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Mox said, taking a sip before glancing at the dog curled under the counter. “How’s Gentle Gerald holding up?”

“He’s good… and lucky,” Phobe replied, her voice tinged with relief. “I’m just glad to have him back.”

Mox’s expression darkened. “Can’t believe he was going to be—well, you know. Chopped up and sold for parts. That Suzan and her mother are pure monsters.”

Phobe waved it off with a tired sigh. “Forget Suzan. Were you hurt during the elf attack? I still can’t wrap my head around them targeting Redwood. The Queen, of all people!”

“The students were fine,” Mox said, her voice steady but distant. “The elves weren’t after us—just the Queen. Can’t say the same for Axel, though. They really had it out for him.”

I exhaled sharply, shrugging. “Only because I happened to be with the Queen during the attack.”

Phobe raised an eyebrow, leaning on the counter. “Why didn’t you run? I mean, I’ll give you this—you were brave. But still, wasn’t that a bit reckless?”

I looked down briefly, weighing my words. “I was afraid people would think I was in on the attack if I ran. So, I fought. Didn’t go too well for me, though. Got beaten up pretty bad.”

Mox smirked faintly, swirling her juice in the glass. “That’s one way to put it. You were lucky to walk away.”

“Either way, people think you’re a hero,” Phobe said with a shrug. “Though most only know your name.”

“Hmm,” I muttered, my eyes flicking to the window. The rain had started to ease, the relentless downpour softening into a steady drizzle. “Looks like it’s calming down. I should head to Redwood before it picks up again.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mox said, hopping off the stool and stretching her wings slightly. “Let’s go.”

“Uh… okay.”

Gerald barked softly as we stepped toward the door, the muted sound of rain greeting us outside. Mox adjusted her cloak and gave me a nod, her expression unreadable. Without another word, we walked into the fading storm together.