When Adyr got home, he noticed the table was already set. Dinner was waiting, fresh and warm, and unlike most days, there were two plates instead of one. Niva sat quietly, hands in her lap, as if she had been waiting for a while.
Normally, she would've eaten by now and gone back to her routine before the nightly blackout. The change caught him off guard.
"Niva?" He said, slipping off his shoes. "What's going on?"
His sister looked more distant than usual, her eyes quieter, her posture more withdrawn. "Today… I wanted to have dinner with you," she said, forcing a small smile.
It was obvious something was weighing on her. Her mother was heading out on a dangerous mission—it was only natural she'd be uneasy.
Adyr gave her a soft, understanding smile. "Alright. Just let me wash up and change," he said, then went upstairs. He didn't take long. He didn't want to keep her waiting.
The two ate in silence. It was too quiet, too heavy. Even Adyr couldn't think of anything to say to lift her mood. It was something she needed to work through on her own.
Eventually, Niva broke the silence. "What if something happens to her?" She asked, her voice trembling, eyes beginning to redden.
Adyr sighed, lowering the fork halfway to his mouth. He reached across the table, gently taking her slightly shaking hand.
"Nothing will happen," he said calmly. "She said she'd be with the STF, remember? I'm sure they won't let anything touch her."
"But…" Niva opened her mouth again, then closed it, afraid of her own thoughts. After a pause, she finally whispered, "I've read some really scary things on the forums. What if they run into something even they can't handle?"
Ahh, that damned internet. Adyr gave a small, reassuring smile.
"If something like that happens," he said, "then I'll go there myself—and even if I have to burn the entire place to the ground, I'll make sure she comes back safe."
Hearing the words, Niva raised her head and looked her brother in the eyes. She knew he was saying it to lift her mood, that he couldn't possibly be serious—yet for some reason, she found it comforting.
She let out a small laugh. "No, you can't burn the whole place down—there are still innocent people, remember? Just kicking a few bad guys' asses should be enough," she said, half-joking, half-trying to boost the pride of a brother who wasn't even a mutant.
Adyr chuckled and gave a slight nod, turning back to his food. "Noted. I'll keep your advice in mind."
Though still in a low mood, Niva looked noticeably better as they kept talking through dinner. Afterwards, they did the dishes and finished up the rest of the chores together, side by side—something neither of them mentioned, but both quietly appreciated.
Once everything was done, Adyr headed to his room.
It was time to check how things were going inside the game.
—
When he came to his senses, the first thing he noticed was the lingering scent of stew—the same hearty mix of meat and vegetables he'd cooked the day before. His eyes opened slowly, instinctively searching for Vesha, but the carriage was empty. No trace of her. No sign of the Dawn Raven either.
Frowning, he stepped outside. It was night, but not completely dark. That strange moon still hung in the sky, resembling a sun, yet glowing in shifting shades of black and white, casting just enough light to see by.
He looked around, and not far ahead, a glint of gold caught his eye—Vesha's long, flowing hair glowing faintly under the strange sky. She was crouched in front of a tree, her small frame still, eyes locked on something.
Adyr approached, and when he saw what she was staring at, he couldn't help but laugh quietly.
There, tied to the tree by its wings and its beak bound shut, was the Dawn Raven. Its feathers shimmered in the ghostlight, almost radiant—yet none of that brilliance could hide how pitiful it looked.
Vesha stared at it. The raven stared back. The two of them looked like they were locked in a silent staring contest.
Adyr stepped closer, voice low and casual. "You seem better today."
At the sudden voice behind her, Vesha flinched like a startled cat, quickly turning around. But the moment she saw it was Adyr, the fear and tension in her eyes melted away.
"Yes, thanks to you," she said quickly, genuinely.
Then she noticed Adyr glancing at the Dawn Raven and quickly explained, "It looked kind of suspicious, so I took it outside and tied it up here."
Clearly, she'd been worried it might try something while Adyr was asleep, and decided it was safer to keep it under watch out here.
Adyr appreciated it silently. Not only had she been brave enough to deal with a creature terrifying enough to haunt her nightmares, she was also out here, forcing her fragile body to endure the cold.
"Thanks for keeping an eye on it," he said gently. "But I'm awake now—go back inside and get some rest. It's cold out here."
He could clearly see the exhaustion in her eyes—she had just returned from death's door, and was already naive enough to knock on it again.
"Yes," she said obediently, and headed back into the carriage. Right before stepping inside, a faint blush crept onto her pale face. She almost turned around to ask if he'd been the one to change her clothes—even her underwear—but stopped herself. The answer was obvious.
After Vesha stepped inside and pulled the canvas flap shut behind her, Adyr walked over to the Dawn Raven. He crouched down, met its gaze, and ran a hand over its head.
"Doesn't matter the world… people always fear what they don't understand, huh?" Then he unfastened the rope from the tree, picked up the raven, and made his way back to the carriage.
After returning, Adyr set the raven down in a corner and walked over to Vesha. He reached out and touched her forehead.
She flinched at the sudden gesture—but didn't pull away.
"Your fever's there, but mild. That's good," he murmured, eyes scanning the deep flush across her face. "Blood flow's stabilizing. Time to change your bandages."
Vesha flinched at his words. For a moment, unsure how to address him—and haunted by flickers of memory—she spoke with a strained voice. "Um... maybe I can do it myself."
Adyr glanced at her, then at the bandages wrapped around her chest, his expression shifting at the unexpected request. He understood her concern.
"I'll shut my eyes and do my best not to touch anything I shouldn't," he said with a faint smile. It was the only reassurance he could offer.
Good sir, you've probably already seen everything you shouldn't, anyway… Vesha thought with quiet helplessness.