Malt could feel the pleasant warmth of the fur blanket even in his feverish state. Gentle sunlight poured into the room from some indiscernible place, setting his eyelids aglow and rousing him from his slumber.

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he was being treated.

The bitter smells of various plant based medicines permeated the air, some familiar and some he’d never encountered before. He could feel cloth bandages encasing much of his body, a feeling he’d grown accustomed to.

If it were not for the irritating itch and dull ache coming from his wounds, he would’ve loved to bask in the atmosphere for a little longer.

His eyelids shakily parted, opening just wide enough to allow him to survey his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was the timber ceiling and the curious looking charms hanging from it, each seeming to be made from a different type of flora, whether it be a flower, grass, or root.

He propped himself on one elbow and rubbed his blurry eyes with the other.

What he saw was a small, but cozy room populated with various pieces of modest furniture. Each was likely carved by hand, evident by the rough texture and telltale carving marks.

There were many types of plants situated around the room, some in simple pots sitting atop furniture or others in small troughs flush against the simple wooden walls.

Every one of them seemed exotic or irregular in some way, some resembled plants he was familiar with and some didn’t look like they should’ve existed at all.

The only thing they all had in common was that they were all basking in the bright noon sunlight pouring in through the window beside his bed.

His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the point where he could see out of it yet, but he could clearly hear the sounds of people going about their day just outside, proof that he had indeed reached civilization.

A shifting in his peripheral vision caught his attention, he turned his head opposite to the window to see someone sitting beside his bed, close enough to where he could recognize their face but far enough to put a respectable distance between them.

Sharp walnut hair, looking as if it had recently been beaten with a broom, sat atop a slightly tan face. His face was certainly young, maybe around his own age, but his eyes and expression were unnaturally stern and mature.

Or rather it seemed to be imitating maturity, a look that really didn’t suit his carefree face.

His head tilted downward, both so he could see Malt and in shame. His brows pressed together slightly and Malt could practically see the guilt in his eyes. Even with his mature facade, he was an open book.

Malt let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, sinking back into the bed.

“So? What’s the deal?”

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “Well, we’re in the town apothecary at the moment an-”

“Not that. You know what I mean, the whole beating up strangers part.”

“...”

After a short pause, he pointed to Malt’s tattered gambeson coat lying at the edge of the bed.

“That’s why. Well, mostly why.”

“My coat? What about it?”

He raised his head to peek out the window, making sure no one would overhear him. He leaned in a few inches, making sure to lower his voice a bit.

“There’ve been a lot of bandits around the area wearing similar clothing, so when I saw you carrying Misha with a cloth over her mouth…”

“Wait, Misha?”

“Yes, my little sister Misha.”

“Huh, so it was Misha?” He let the name bounce around his mind for a bit, pairing the name with the person.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah she just had some mild mana deficiency, she recovered a few days ago.”

He relaxed his shoulders, letting out a sigh. He didn’t know what mana deficiency was, but it seemed like things would be okay for the moment, she’d even recovered a few days before he had.

He quickly opened his eyes and turned to the guy,

“...days?”

“Yep. Days.”

“...how long’ve I been out for?”

“About, five days maybe?”

His eyes widened in surprise, “Five!? What, was I in a coma or somethin’?”

“I’d say five days is pretty lucky. You were so roughed up and exhausted I thought I killed you when I uh...attacked you…”

Things went silent as the guilt reemerged on his face.

After a few more moments of unbearably awkward silence, he suddenly bowed down almost ninety degrees and clenched his eyes shut.

“I’m so sor-”

Malt raised his hand to his face, stopping him.

“Okay that’s enough of that, I’m not good with apologies. You thought I was trying to kidnap your sister right?”

He raised his head partially,

“Well, yes but-”

“Then we’re chill.”

“But-”

“No buts. We’re chill alright? Just owe me a favor or something.”

That was partially true, he wasn’t great with pleasantries. The other reason was that he really didn’t want to make enemies of someone with such abnormal strength.

Hearing this, he straightened his back, face serious and eyes gleaming with redemption.

“I swear upon my name of Nikolai that I will return this favor, even if it costs me my life.”

“...dude, you’re like way too serious. I meant like paying for lunch or something like...well I guess this works too.”

Pushing the blanket off of himself, he sat up to examine his body.

Just as he’d assumed, his body was covered in gauze, although none seemed to be leaking with pus or blood, a good sign. Whoever had treated him had done an exceptional job considering the state he’d collapsed in.

“So, Nikolai-”

“Just call me Niko, it’s what everyone calls me.”

“Niko it is then, what’s with everyone in this village.”

Caught off guard by the question, he took a moment to think. Rather than think, he was visibly perplexed as to how he should respond, his forehead creased and decreased, his eyes flitted from one place to another, trying to find a suitable answer.

“No girl that little should be able to hit that hard, and you don’t particularly look like a warrior yourself - no offense.”

“None taken.”

Malt reached for his temple, which was covered by a bandage that wrapped around his forehead.

“But that...lunge, or whatever the hell it was, that was bullshit.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to apologize again.

“Oh, I'm not actually that mad. I just like to curse. A lot. Got an answer now?”

He struggled in thought for a few more seconds, before finally slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“I...can’t tell you myself. I can bring you to someone who might though.”

“...I guess that’ll work too.”

He swung his legs to the edge of the bed and pushed himself up, with some trouble. Niko held the door open as he stumbled through.

Just before he could make the threshold, he stumbled, saved from falling only by the doorframe.

Niko hurried over, placing a hand under his armpit.

“I don’t think you’re stable enough to walk yet.”

“Yeah maybe that wasn’t such a great idea.”

He took Malt’s arm and wrapped it over his shoulder, placing one of his own under his opposite armpit.

After a bit of adjustment, he nodded, satisfied.

“This should do.”

Malt raised one eyebrow, skeptical.

“...you sure about this?”

Without hesitating, he nodded firmly.

“Part of the reason you’re like that is because of me after all.”

He clicked his tongue, a little irked.

“I already told you m’guy, you’re good-”

He’d already started walking, cutting him off. Whether it was intentional or that Niko was just dense, he didn’t know. But he decided to just leave it at that.

As they exited the small room they entered a larger room resembling that of a living room. It was only slightly wider than the previous room, but much longer, maybe four times so.

Three other doors sat adjacent to the one they’d just passed, identical in both make and wear.

“Who lives here?”

“Besides my mother and Misha, my younger brother Kirk and younger sister Nadia also live here. All my siblings are out collecting herbs though, they'll be back tomorrow.”

“Eldest brother eh? Seems rough.”

“Not really, Nadia’s only a year younger than me so she helps take care of the other two. Misha’s turning seven soon though, so it’s just Kirk that really needs taking care of.”

“Kudos still though. I’m not great with kids myself.”

The actual living room had a fireplace surrounded by crude, yet cozy looking chairs and a coffee table. Quilts and other simple pieces of decoration, strange charms and the like, lay strewn across the place, giving it a slightly cramped, yet cozy feeling.

Pushed to the corner of the room was what looked to be a small kitchen, a little cooking station really as it lacked a sink or any of the modern appliances one from Earth might expect.

A window just above the cooking countertop let in natural light and a pleasant breeze.

“Pretty nice place you got here.”

“I know right? The fact that we managed to fit all this on the second floor is pretty baffling.”

“Wait we’re on the second floor right now?”

“Yep, mother’s apothecary is downstairs.”

Just as he said that, he could hear footsteps from a set of stairs near the kitchen that he hadn’t noticed before.

The person that came up was a maybe middle aged woman with graying hair. She had distinct smile wrinkles and a kind looking face, one that put him at ease almost the moment he saw it.

“Seems like you’ve woken up, dear.”

“Mother!” Niko hurried over to her after making sure Malt was in a stable position.

“I told you to call me when you needed help with the stairs.”

She laughed warmly, “Oh you make it sound like I’m a grandma already” she made it the rest of the way up. “I’m not even fifty yet.”

“But you were feeling faint this morning.”

“You’re such a worrywart dear, there’s someone feeling much more faint than me here you know.”

Seemingly remembering Malt’s existence, he gestured to the woman.

“This is my mother, she runs the village apothecary and takes care of all of us.”

“You’re all so old now, you can take care of yourselves just fine. In fact I think you may help me more than I do you!”

“What? Of course not!”

She just chuckled as he bumbled around, denying her statement.

A small smile formed on Malt’s face, it didn’t take a genius to know how close the two were.

Malt walked up and bowed his head, “Thank you for tending to my wounds, M’am.”

“Oh that’s quite alright dear. It’s the least I could do considering all the things Misha told me about you.”

“Misha huh...wait Misha can talk?”

She pinched her fingers, leaving only a tiny bit of space between them.

“Just a little bit. She definitely knows how to, heck she’s learned how to read at her age! Better than her two older sibling’s even.”

Niko raised a finger and opened his mouth, only too close it shortly after.

“Yeah I can’t argue with that. That girl might surpass even you soon, mother.”

“I’ll rejoice when that day comes, it just means I’ve done a good job raising her. She doesn’t like to speak though, she only really talks to us, her family.”

“Even then the times she actually speaks to me are few and far between. And I’m her older brother.”

“Then how does she usually communicate with you guys?”

“We just kind of...know what she’s saying. Seems to happen naturally if you’ve lived with her her whole life.”

As strange as it sounded, he could kind of understand what they meant. Even though he’d only traveled with her a few hours, he was already getting the hang of reading her expression and mannerisms.

She clapped her hands together, “That’s enough of that now. Since you’re awake you should probably visit old Nasir, he’ll fill you in and answer any questions you might have.”

She turned to Niko, “Guide him over please, dear.”

“No problem.” He lent Malt his shoulder again, “Alright, let's start making our way over.”

She placed her hands firmly on her hips, “Not like that you’re not.”

Malt looked down at his torso, which was covered by nothing but strips of gauze.

“Oh yeah.”

She walked over to the door at the farthest edge of the room.

“Just wait there dear.”

After a few seconds, she reemerged holding a single tan shirt.

She walked over and looped it over his head, prompting him to put it on.

The shirt was too large, but it was better than nothing and actually felt quite nice. She flattened out the wrinkles with her hands and stepped back to examine her work with her arms crossed, satisfied.

“This’ll do just fine.”

She gestured to the kitchen, “Just wash up your face and you should be ready to go.”

With Niko’s help he made his way to the window.

Curiously, there was a little crank handle just beside the window.

“There’s a well just outside.” He propped Malt up against the counter and placed his hand on the crank.

“Here, I got this.”

After several seconds of cranking, he reached out the window and pulled out a wooden pail. When he peered inside sure enough, there was cold water there.

He cupped the water in his hands and thoroughly washed his face, the first time he’d done so in days.

After he felt he didn’t look like he’d been dragged feet first through a bush, he wiped off the water with the back of his forearm.

Niko handed him a small piece of glass, “Here, a mirror.”

Malt hesitantly grasped it, he hadn’t paid attention to his face in a long, long time.

When he finally mustered the courage to look, he was met with a scruffy looking version of himself from a few months prior.

The area around his mouth was covered in uneven stubble and slight bags had appeared under his eyes. Although his face has gotten leaner since his time at the castle, the days of near starvation in the forest had him looking almost gaunt.

His dark brown hair had grown long, long enough to tie into a bun if he’d wanted to.

He now looked...rugged, to put it nicely.

He put down the mirror, having seen his face for more than he wanted to.

“That looks fine...I think. Your thoughts, mother?”

“I think he looks nice. Gruff, as some of the younger ladies might say.”

“They definitely don’t say that, mother.”

“Oh whatever, it's time for you two to get going now.”

Niko lent him his shoulder again, and they walked to the stairs.

“You two come back before dinner now, you hear me?”

Malt waved a hand in front of him, “But I couldn’t, m’am.”

She raised a finger, shaking it.

“No buts. I’ll be making three portions and you best believe you’ll be getting one of them. Understood?”

Malt paused for a moment, taken back by the sternness he didn’t think she had in her. A slight chuckle eventually exited his nose.

“Yes ma'am.”