Dreams deserted Arty in his sleep, abandoning him to the darkness and leaving him restless when he opened his eyes, unsure of whether he’s still asleep. He stretched out in bed, stiffening a yawn as he pushed aside the blanket laid upon him, looking around the room for the girl who committed the act.

Sitting there at the dining table, he spotted the culprit sitting on the chair, wolfing down the food left overnight and scraping up the last bits of soup from the bowl. The tableware clattered on the table as she put it down, burping as she leaned back. She was still wearing her tattered clothing, yet in the cold, she didn't look bothered by it.

"Really, Eli?” he groaned, causing Eli to yelp in her seat, spinning around to face Arty as if she heard a ghost. The lingering smell of soup whiff about in front of him, his stomach growling to satisfy its hunger. “You couldn’t leave some for me after everything we went through?”

“I was starving,” she answered, playing around with her ponytail as she refused to meet Arty’s eyes, a sheepish grin forming from the corner of her mouth. “You wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I tried, so I thought I’d help myself to the hot food.”

“You mean you didn’t even try to wake me up,” Arty sighed, wondering how many times she had left him out of something. He still remembered how much trouble he was in after she left him out of the loop on the deadline of the submission of reports to the Student Council. A sigh escaped him, words forming to start an argument before he realised what she had just said.

“Wait… Hot food?”

Around Eli, the air stirred, slowly, then quickly, and then flaring up as the heat in the room churned about. Her hand glowed a dim orange that barely shone brighter than his. Yet, when she dispersed the heat, the room warmed up substantially. The smirk on her face said all as she stood up, stretching her back before standing up, strolling towards him.

“Hot food, Pot,” she confirmed, wiping away the sweat on her forehead before she doubled over, hacking away as blood trickled from her mouth. Arty found himself hopping off the bed, his legs bringing him to his sister’s side before he knew it. “Head up,” he said, taking an arm and supporting her over to the bed. “Keep your chest open and breathe.”

“I’m fine, Arty,” Eli protested, shaking off his support and sitting herself onto the bed’s edge, wiping away the blood from her mouth. She closed her eyes, taking long deep breaths as the scowl on her continued to deepen. “Just… give me a while.”

Arty couldn’t help but feel worried as she recovered herself, slowing down her breathing and letting herself relax. This isn’t you, he thought, looking around for something to wipe her sweat away with. He knew that his sister wasn’t fine and ended up hurting herself in excitement, yet here she was, acting as if nothing happened.

“Eli, you haven’t recovered. Don’t use your power as if you’re still able to,” he started, still acting ignorant of her inner plight. Grasping her hand, he forced the heat outwards, letting the cold air surround her and letting her breathe easier. He could feel pricks all over his arm, but he didn’t bother about them. “Just take it slow for now.”

“I don’t want to,” she countered, shaking off his aid. Her eyes flew open and locked onto his, showing off the deep glare that shone from her eyes and ruining the calm facade she’s showing on the surface. Her hand glowed even brighter against the light, fist clenched tightly together as she continued: “If I can get my power back in control faster, then we can go back home. You wouldn’t need to push yourself too hard.”

“And what if you overuse your power next time when I’m not around? You can’t mitigate the aftereffects yourself.”

“I don’t have to overuse my power. I just need to be faster than you when using it.”

“Suit yourself,” he sighed, the words of anger just at the tip of his tongue. He quickly swallowed it back, standing up and looking towards the door. His stomach growled in frustration, calling for him to feed himself and sate his hunger. “I’ll go find the Innkeeper, see if she can get us some proper hot food.”

“Sure, sure, go leave your sister alone for food from the pretty lady,” she barbed, leaning back onto the bed with a thud. “I’ll go ‘take it slow’ for a while now.”

“Prick,” he mumbled, slowly walking towards the door. Stopping short, he looked back at Eli, watching her chest rise and fall as she did as promised, falling into a slumber before he left the room, closing the door behind him. He looked around the empty corridor, trying to discern for movement before he touched his bandaged arms.

Pain took over him as he collapsed to the floor, back against the door as he bit down hard on his cheeks, silencing the scream threatening to pour through. He slid his sleeves up his arm, staring at the bumps all over it. He knew Eli knew something was off in his movements when she looked at him, yet he decided to keep his troubles from her, to let her sleep easier at night.

But even as the sharp prickly feeling ran through his body as he pushed his sleeves down, standing up and moving towards the stairs, he knows that Eli will know, once her powers return to what it was, that he wasn’t fine after all.

Pushing himself one step at a time, he quickly thought about what he should say to the Innkeeper. No doubt she’d be all too curious as to why a pair of Nazians chose to hike in the middle of nowhere in the worst weather possible. For a brief moment, he considered telling her their situation, but he immediately struck down the idea. Safer to lie as being a Nazian and leave the country, he mused, reaching the landing and looking around the room.

The inn was much quieter than it was the day before, with only a few people chatting amongst the tables. Overhead, the soft drone of the radio blared, playing a simple instrumental melody as his nose caught the faint smell of scrambled eggs, causing his stomach to growl louder. The snickers he received embarrassed him slightly, but he kept his face still, ordering his legs forward towards the lady emerging from the kitchen.

“Ah, you’re awake,” she started, turning off the radio as she walked over, hand holding a plate of scrambled eggs. The full apron she wore was too large for her, yet she didn’t seem fazed by it. “How’s your wounds?” she asked, taking a glance at his still bandaged arms.

“It’s healing,” he lied, neglecting to inform her of the piercing pain he was having. “Thank you for helping us last night.”

“My pleasure. You can come at any time and I'll always do what I can.” She replied, taking off the red bandana she was wearing whilst approaching with her plate. Taking a seat at a nearby table, she gestured for him to come over, pushing the plate of warm eggs in front of him. “My breakfast, but go ahead and dig in. You look like you need it more than I do.”

Arty’s eyes lit up, staring at the nearly untouched eggs wobbling from the movement. He quickly grabbed a fork that lay beside him and quickly began to fill his mouth with the warm scrambled eggs, not caring for the sauce left dripping down his lips. He only realised he had lost his manners when he heard the Innkeeper trying to snicker discreetly, slowly looking up and replying with a soft “sorry.”

“No, sorry, couldn’t help myself,” she coughed, taking a deep breath and composing herself. Her short hair shone in the light, a bright yellow against the dark brown walls, burning brightly within the room. “I’m glad, though. My only visitors in a while and you haven’t made any complaints about the food or accommodations. Then again, you made it out of the mountains, so I guess you wouldn't have any.”

“In a while?” Arty asked, wiping the sauce with the back of his hand. He recalled seeing the dilapidated buildings when they entered, but he’d had thought that there would still be travellers passing through the town. “Then what of the people seated here, Miss um…”

“Ah, right, I haven’t introduced myself, have I?” she stood up, taking a small bow. A smirk spread across her face before she looked up, head held high as she continued. “My name’s Cecilia, an innkeeper and chef. As for your question, the people here are mostly the remaining town folks. While the rest of them left for the inner cities and the capital to make a living, they abandoned those with an attachment to this place, leaving them here to die alone.”

“But wouldn’t emigrating to Nazak be better?” he asked, watching her seat back down, pushing down the loose pieces of her apron. He tried to remember how far the capital was from the northern frontier before giving up. “The distance and living conditions are better there, aren't they?”

“Usually, that’d be true, except most of the town folks were elementalists,” she explained, her gaze turning to those around her, softening themselves as she watched a group of old men argue with each other. “These people are reliant on me and the occasional few who make the climb to survive, selling what trinkets they could to feed themselves. But with the border now closed, it might be time for them to finally leave this place and go down the mountain.”

Arty felt his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding hard against his chest. He shivered as a chill ran down his spine, trying to deny what he had just heard. “The border’s closed? Since when?”

Surprise filled Cecilia’s face, then concern as she spoke with tense swiftness. “It was just announced over the radio. The borders between Veia and Nazak are to be closed till further notice,” she lowered her eyes, not concealing the look of pity within it as she looked back up. “Sorry Everette, you can’t go home for now.”

Arty stared blankly at her, mind running over what she had said. Any plans for a journey north to avoid their pursuers have been blown away, replaced by uncertainty as he stood up, legs poised to bring him outside. “I… I need some time to think this through,” he said, ignoring Cecilia’s calls as he moved towards the door, throwing it open and stepping into the flurrying blizzard.

The cold shook him to the core, biting at him to return back to the safety of the warm inn. But he didn’t care about it. Breathing in, he closed his eyes, pulling in the surrounding heat towards him. The heat obeyed his command, swirling about around him as he forced more and more around himself until he felt warm again.

Around him, the surrounding snow melted into puddles of water, forming a watery path that froze over as Arty walked aimlessly towards the abandoned town, losing himself in the snowy background.

---

Eli opened her eyes and sat up, looking towards the door where Arty had just left through. She wasn’t naive enough not to notice the heat stuck within his body, unable to escape into the cooler air. Why do you do this every time, Pot, she thought, remembering the number of times her brother went behind her back to settle her problems.

Her nightmares had persisted through the night, dumping her back to the night of the capital. Scenes of the flames, the bloodshed and the men in black armour haunted her throughout the night, leaving her restless when she awoke. Every time she closes her eyes, she’ll always see those moments where she and Arty were forced to flee, far from where their home lies.

Yet, she couldn’t just run forever. Their parents, their family... Him. They were all still back home. And if not for Arty being a worrywart for her, she’ll already be on her way back, with or without her powers.

Sighing, she closed her eyes, letting her instincts run wild as she laid her hands on the White Lily hidden within her thigh holsters, allowing the heat to congregate around her. She hadn’t been able to conjure a blade, but she knew she'd be able to recover at a faster rate than her brother.

"Let me be the one to handle it this time, Arty," she vowed, letting the empty room echo her statement.

---