Avalel trudges forward, dragging his feet as his bag and the Anapadeia weighs down on his back. Behind, Kavlina follows in steady but weak footsteps, her weight leaning on a branch used as a walking stick. The stream they were following on their journey is long behind them, their food supplies dwindling with each day as they walk through fields of yellowed grass. Their bodies, devoid of any form of hygiene or hydration, smell nearly like corpses, their hair filled with an array of twigs, leaves, and insects.

It’s been a while since they left the forest. Avalel has already lost count of the days, each feeling slower and slower as time progresses. Again, the Elyfesta has dipped below the mountains, shrouding the lands in a bleak shadow. Yet unlike other nights, he finally sees a ray of light, a beacon in the otherwise barren landscape.

“Kavlina,” he whispers. “The town’s just in front.”

Indeed it is, a small town of humble size just a short distance away from the mountain itself. They had first seen that town during their descent from the mountain, isolated and lacking even a major road of some sort. It was what prompted them to detract from the stream in the first place, setting on the next stage of their grueling journey to this point. Now, as the duo finally approach the settlement, Avalel sighs in relief, so close to their goal. Whether it’ll just be a pit stop or their new home, it doesn’t really matter. They’ve finally made it, the destination of their initial journey.

“Let’s just… hope they’ll accept us,” Kavlina says, her voice faint and frail.

Bit by bit, the town wall reveals itself to their eyes, complete with several tall watchtowers. It’s certainly unnatural for Avalel. The village never needed a wall, being protected and surrounded by the forest. Every house was visible and easily approachable in the village, and yet here, he can’t see anything beyond that bland wall, the bricks showing themselves where paint has been flaked off. And where the town’s gate is, there are several armed individuals, their appearances concealed in the shadows of the wall.

Just what town needs to be surrounded, protected by so much force?

“Halt!” He suddenly hears a voice. Shortly after, the figures run out from the gate, encircling Avalel and Kavlina as they point their weapons at the two. He sees them clearly now, or at least as clearly as possible with his dry, blurred vision. The group are all wearing some sort of uniform in a shade of beige, not too different from the grass, while their faces are concealed with dusty helmets. Despite their appearances, they do not look similar to the soldiers from before.

A relief indeed.

“What brings you here?” one of them, a man, interrogates. “We don’t accept random refugees.”

“We came from the mountains,” Avalel says, his voice barely above a raspy mumble.

“What did you say?” the man bellows.

“We— hack!” Avalel attempts to raise his voice but quickly breaks into a violent cough, dropping to the ground. His legs finally give way, completely exhausted from the journey. Kavlina tries to catch him, but she, too, falls as soon as she releases herself from the walking stick. His bag and the Anapadeia roll off his back, the sword unraveled, exposed for all to see.

“Wait, isn’t that… the Anapadeia?” the man realizes.

How do they know its name?

But he has no luxury to think about such matters.

The figures turn to each other, first muttering under their breath before rising in volume, becoming a mess of chaotic voices.

“These two… How did they even cross the mountain?”

“I thought the Pass was heavily guarded?”

“Had they just climbed the mountain and crossed it in this state?”

“We don’t know who they are.”

“How did he have that?”

“Did something in the Core Regions happen?”

“Why did that sword suddenly appear here?”

The voices overlap each other in a rising cacophony, drowning out each other as they no longer focus on the fatigued pair. Their intrigued eyes now fixate on the Anapadeia, helpless as it is shown for all eyes to see. To travel for so long, to exhaust themselves, only to meet these people… Perhaps Avalel’s first taste of the Outside has already ended.

“What is this?”

The talking suddenly stops, the group turning to face some distant figure. The silence is abrupt, the void of sound quickly filled with the natural calmness of nature as Avalel had listened to during his journey. Slowly, he feels a rather cold shadow looming over him, his wrist being touched by a wrinkled hand. His eyes, already so weak, can only make out the outline of a person kneeling down next to him.

“Why are you all bickering over a sword? Do we not see two young children who are in dire need of our help?” The figure’s voice, presumably an aged woman’s, is calm yet imposing, the words softly flowing out like gentle streams yet commanding in nature. There is some sort of power to her, some sort of persuasive eloquence in her tone.

“M-Ms. Ipela!” The group all greets nearly in unison.

“Save your greetings and courtesies for later, my soldiers,” the woman known as Ipela says before turning to Avalel, whispering into his ear. “It’s alright, a doctor’s here. You’re safe. You and your friend have done well.”

Ipela retreats again, and Avalel hears the dropping of a bag, followed by some sounds as if one is rummaging through its contents. Perhaps it is some medical kit, similar to the ones the village doctors carry around back in the forest.

Well, at least we’re about to be saved—

Something jabs into his thigh. He winces, feeling a cool liquid enter his body, quickly spreading throughout the body. His mind gradually blanks, filled with a fog of haziness. Suddenly, he feels an overwhelming sensation of sleepiness, his eyes fluttering for a few moments before his vision goes dark. For the first time since the long journey, he feels absolute peace and silence, his consciousness temporarily locked inside a safe void, waiting for his body to recover.

Avalel groggily opens his eyes, his senses returning to him as he is finally freed from the unconscious void. A comforting softness surrounds his body, the light of the Elyfesta fully illuminating the room. As he sits up, he finds himself staring at an immaculate white sheet covering his body, and around him, an equally tidy, minimalist room with only the most basic of furniture and decorated only with an empty purple flower pot. To his side, Kavlina still lies asleep, her features clean and spotless, as if they had never been on their journey. Their belongings are placed on the ground against a wall, the Anapadeia still unwrapped and exposed, the red gem refusing to even glow.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the woman says as she enters from another room. Judging from her features, Avalel guesses she is around the age of seventy, with purple eyes long dimmed from experience and wrinkles a mark of her age and wisdom. Dressed in an elegant, loose gown, she exhibits an elderly tenderness from her appearance alone, one so delicate like a piece of ceramic.

“Where are we?” Avalel asks.

“Ah, you’re just in my house, and for now, I, Ms. Ipela, will take responsibility over you two. Your name is…?”

“Avalel,” he answers. Strange she didn’t ask for Kavlina’s name.

“Ah, Avalel. You and your friend must’ve had a tough journey here, right? Where did you come from?” Somehow, her voice is markedly different from earlier outside the town, being much more soft-spoken, with a peculiar parental tone.

“From the forest across the mountains,” he says.

“May I ask what happened?”

“Well, uh…” He finds himself at a loss for words. Should he even admit what he has done? The deaths of so many piled upon his back? The burden is his alone. There should be no reason for him to just tell the old woman, especially not when she is but a stranger to him.

“It’s alright if you choose not to tell me at this moment. Thankfully, the two of you are completely unscathed, needing only a bit of nutrition and energy to rejuvenate yourselves.” She calmly goes to grab two cups of hot water, placing one on the cupboard near Avalel, and the other for herself.

“Thank you,” Avalel says, picking up the cup before hydrating himself, feeling the vapor gather on his cheeks. “Especially for how you managed to completely heal us.”

“Avalel, do you wonder about the supernatural?” Ipela suddenly asks, her eyes deviating to the Anapadeia for a moment.

“The… what?”

“It’s a complicated process, but to put it simply, I healed you two with magic.”

“Magic?” He has heard of this word from that soldier’s mouth. The usage of magic, utilized by Faresoenn back then, back there in the village. And perhaps… Avalel himself killed all those soldiers with it as well.

He shudders.

“You… encountered it before?” Ipela questions.

“... Perhaps,” Avalel admits after a pause.

“It’s surprising, I admit,” Ipela says. “Magic is especially rare now, underappreciated in society as people begin to forget about it. But, in my opinion, magic still holds a rather powerful position. After all, I used it to heal you two. It’s tiring, draining even, but at least magic saved two lives.” Her voice seems to drop in volume further, indicating the slight toll on her frail body.

“Why did you take us in?” Avalel asks. “We’re just refugees, and honestly, I don’t know how we can even pay you back for saving our lives. If not for you—”

“Remember, thank the magic, not me. As for your question… If I must be frank, it’s quite a personal decision,” Ipela replies. “You remind me of someone I once knew. Your eyes especially. It reminds me of him.”

“Someone you knew?”

“Yes, but that was long ago.”

Avalel looks at her aged face. The things the woman once experienced, the places she’s been, the person he somehow resembles… For whatever reason, he feels a slight tinge of curiosity. Is it just to know his rescuer better? Maybe he just wants to forge a genuine connection with her, to fill the void previously occupied by Faresoenn. A parental role.

And yet the void will still remain. A place where he can only harbor regret until the day he forgets. And he’ll never forget.

He can only hope the void doesn’t grow further.

“Sigh…” Kavlina suddenly interrupts. She opens her eyes, sitting up as she, too, tries to find her bearings.

“Where are we?”

“In Ms. Ipela’s house,” Avalel answers.

Her eyes examining the room, she bears nearly the same expression as Avalel did earlier, confused and rather surprised at her current state. Her hands run through her hair, amazed at their tidiness compared to just a while ago outside the town. However, as soon as she makes eye contact with Ipela, her eyes narrow, bearing an alien, blank look against the old woman.

“Thank you for saving the two of us,” Kavlina says politely, perhaps even too distanced and cordial in her words. “May I ask what this place is?”

“This is Thille,” Ipela says. “Just a small town sustained with whatever limited supplies we have. It’s a generally peaceful place as we’re nowhere near any major strategic locations. A rarity, indeed, in all this war.”

“A peaceful place, but walled up and guarded with people that resemble soldiers,” Kavlina notes. “Even in my weakened state back there, I am not blind. Ms. Ipela, what is the point of all this?”

“So you have noticed,” Ipela sighs. She places down her empty cup, smoke and vapor still drifting out from the interior. “The water’s not hot enough. Anyway, I have something to show you two.”

Ipela walks to the other side of the room, facing a completely blank wall, with only a rather messy pile of carpets donning the floor. Without much effort, she shifts the carpets to the side, revealing just the floor with a loose plank slightly protruding upwards. Slowly, she bends down, grabbing the plank and pulling it up. Immediately, a section of the entire floor opens, revealing a flight of white stairs, the passage lit up from the sides of the formerly hidden walls.

“What is this?” Avalel finds himself leaning closer to the passage.

“This is the reason for the walls and the soldiers,” she calmly explains. “Thille is a small town… at least on the surface. I will probably be criticized for bringing two unauthorized children in, but it is not much of a concern. Please, follow me to the station. I am about to be late for my duties.”

They hesitate, staying in their position. Avalel doesn’t even dare to move. He may have a rather positive impression of Ipela, but she is still a stranger, one who saved him and Kavlina, of course, yet one who he has only conversed with nowhere beyond a few sentences. It’s only natural to harbor suspicion, even for him.

“Ms. Ipela,” Kavlina says. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s simply a passage to Thille,” Ipela answers. “The underground section, that is. I apologize, but this surface town will not be enough to even sustain two more persons with its supplies. But, perhaps, the underground city will.” Without even waiting for the two, she descends the steps one by one, the sound of her footsteps echoing off the walls.

“Please, follow me,” she beckons again. “And grab your belongings.”

Reluctantly, Avalel grabs his bag and the Anapadeia, making his way over to Ipela. Kavlina goes after him, her steps wary and cautious, making far less of a sound. At the bottom, there is only a single ball-shaped object of some sort placed in a tube, the top shell slowly retreating to expose a moderately spacious inner compartment.

“Step in,” Ipela politely says, stepping to the side to allow the two of them to enter. Avalel awkwardly takes a seat near the far corner, careful not to touch too much of this apparently fancy interior, yet also curious of every ridge and line, his eyes scanning the object over and over. As Ipela steps in, the shell closes, leaving only the three of them in the compartment as the object begins to whirr.

“Next destination: Thille.”