With Vesha in his arms—and the Dawn Raven resting in hers—Adyr navigated the maze-like cave with practiced ease. For him, the simplest way to find his path was through footprints. The cave's slightly damp soil, untouched by wind or weather, had preserved every step with perfect clarity, offering him a flawless guide through the stone corridors.
During this time, the wandering skeletons in the corridors posed no threat. Just showing them the Dawn Raven was enough to short-circuit whatever logic they operated on.
Meanwhile, Adyr kept Vesha engaged, speaking to her to keep her mind active—anything to keep her awake. At least until he could be sure the bleeding from her chest had fully stopped, and her dehydrated body received some water and nourishment.
"Back in the prison area... why did you save me?" He asked. "Why risk your own life for mine?" His voice remained gentle, but firm enough to keep someone on the brink of sleep from slipping away.
"I—" Vesha parted her pale, cracked lips, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Her voice came out weak, heavy with exhaustion. "In the Church of Astra… the first three things they teach every follower are: serve, obey, and sacrifice."
Adyr raised an eyebrow. "Serve who?"
"The practitioners of the Four Paths…" She replied, her words drawing out, slower with each syllable.
"Practitioners? Am I a practitioner?" He asked, curiosity slipping into his tone.
"You're tall."
It was the third time across both his lives that someone had called him tall—and all three times, it had been her.
But Adyr didn't even react. The repetition wasn't a coincidence—it was a clear sign her mind was starting to slip.
"Hey, stay with me," Adyr said firmly, noticing her consciousness fading. Holding her steady while trying to move fast wasn't easy, but he pushed his pace as much as the terrain allowed.
To make things worse, the charge on his game helmet was running low. If he didn't get out of the cave and reach a safe place soon, it wouldn't be just Vesha in danger—he would be, too.
"Are you still holding the Dawn Raven? Make sure you don't drop it," Adyr said, hoping to get some kind of response, and he did.
"Raven?" Vesha blinked open her tired eyes and glanced down at the bundle in her arms.
"R-Raven!?" She flinched at the sight of the very creature that had haunted her moments ago, briefly shocked, but her grip didn't loosen. She held it tight.
Adyr chuckled. At least it worked. It had pulled her back, even just a little. It might be enough to keep her mind busy for a while longer.
And the exit wasn't far now. He could feel the shift in the air, the still, heavy atmosphere of the cave broken by a faint breeze brushing against his skin. They were close.
And then came the light at the end of the tunnel.
"We're out. Look—the light," he said. But when he noticed her eyes glued to the raven, watching its every move with tense concentration, he decided to leave her be.
Stepping outside, the air greeted him like a forgotten memory. Crisp and clean, it rushed into his lungs, so pure it stung a little. But the sting wasn't unpleasant; it was oddly satisfying. His chest rose slowly as he took it in, and for a brief moment, he just stood there, letting the scent of damp earth and wild grass flood his senses.
Then, lifting his gaze, he saw it. The sky.
Night had fallen, yet overhead hung not a moon, but a sun.
Not warm. Not golden.
It glowed in quiet defiance of the darkness, wrapped in drifting shades of black and white, monochrome and unreal. Like a pale, lidless eye staring through a veil of smoke.
Unfamiliar. Wrong.
A sun, or a moon, that didn't belong to any sky he'd ever known.
To the right, the forest began. The ground was covered in lush green grass, and two lively creatures were grazing peacefully.
They looked like horses, but their fur was a deep blue, patterned with white spots that resembled stars in the night sky. Their manes were dark, like shadows, as if the night itself had brushed over them.
Not far from them stood a carriage—wooden, but well-crafted and elegant in design. On its side was a crest Adyr recognized.
"This must be their carriage," he murmured, glancing at Vesha. The crest was the same one he had seen engraved on the breastplates of the warriors inside the cave.
Without wasting time, Adyr carried Vesha toward the carriage. He pulled back the canvas flap and stepped inside.
It seemed like a good shelter. The animals grazing calmly outside and the untouched carriage, clearly undisturbed for at least three days, were enough to convince him this place was safe.
The interior was clean and surprisingly comfortable. He laid her down gently on a soft blanket, then checked her wound. The bandage was dry, no new blood. That was a good sign. The bleeding had stopped.
He started searching the space. In one corner, he found small leather flasks filled with water. In another, a box containing food supplies. Inside a smaller compartment, he discovered a pouch of white powder. A quick taste confirmed it was salt. He added a pinch of it to the flask, then crushed a few hard, lemon-flavored candies into powder and mixed them in too. After shaking the flask well, he returned to Vesha.
Her eyes were open, still fixed on the Raven—but now, they seemed to drift, her focus slipping.
"Hey. Can you look at me?" Adyr asked, helping her sit up slightly. "I want you to drink this. But first, I need you to talk to me."
He wanted to be sure her reflexes were intact—giving her water when she couldn't swallow properly would only risk choking her. A stupid way to die after coming this far.
"I'm not thirsty. Just tired," Vesha said weakly, her gaze shifting to the flask.
"Just a little. Can you do it for me?" He said gently, and without waiting for an answer, let a few drops fall into her mouth.
She managed to swallow. That was enough. After days of nothing, something with real nutrients was finally reaching her system.
She still looked like she could die at any moment—but at least now, there was a chance.
Adyr checked the mental timer—roughly half an hour left. He gave her a bit more water, then carefully replaced the non-sterile bandages with clean fabric he'd found inside the carriage. He even changed her torn and dirty clothes, down to her underwear, using a spare set he'd come across. Once he was done, he lay her down, covered her tightly, and stepped outside.
Wasting no time, he started a fire.
Using the camp supplies and whatever vegetables and meat he'd found, edible or at least they looked it, he threw together a quick soup in a large pot.
After a small taste, he couldn't help but briefly acknowledge his own cooking skills with a nod of approval. Even the system agreed, sending a message acknowledging his cooking talent. He dismissed it without a second thought. Not enough [Energy] to register it, anyway.
Then, without delay, he brought the pot back into the carriage.
The air was a little cold, and it would only get colder as night fell. The heat from the soup might help warm the space, even if just a little. And with any luck, the smell of food might lead Vesha into better dreams. If she woke up hungry while he was gone, well—that was a bonus he'd planned for.
Once everything was in place, Adyr lay down beside her. He made sure their bodies shared enough warmth. With roughly ten minutes of charge left, there was no point in dragging it out.
He'd done everything he could. The rest was in fate's hands.
"Fuck fate," Adyr muttered—and logged out.