Chapter I

Into the Sunlight

Edwin I

-Who am I?-

Mornings were a dull and grey affair. At least here, where Edwin lived. There was no sun, there were no stars, and neither was there a moon. Aerin had told him of those things, he had described them in what detail they could be described, and he had left it at that. Edwin had been wondering since then. Wondering what the sky ought to look like, were it not covered by an endless fleet of grey clouds. He even wondered now, as he lay in bed with the ceiling being his only vista.

Edwin gave out a deep sigh and shuffled about in his bed. It was a bit hard to shuffle. A tonne of heavy furs nailed him down. They were warm and soft furs, though. Mobility was but a smile price to pay.

Edwin shifted his eyes to the nearby window. A faint light was coming inside from the skies. Probably from the sun that was lying in its own bed. But unlike the sun, Edwin decided to remove the sheets and get off the bed. After some lengthy consideration, that was.

He stood up and hid his long golden bangs behind his ears. He then walked towards his dresser and picked up the black clothing atop it. He put on the warm black clothes, slipped in his boots, and put on his long overcoat. Then, he grabbed his hair and tied it high behind his head. The fluffy tail dropped to about half his back, and a few loose strands hanged above his forehead. Afterwards, he put on a soft belt around his waist but below his coat and knotted it. With that, he had finished dressing and all that remained was to grab his gloves and walk out, which he promptly did.

Outside was, like every day up till now and every day that would come, cold, with the occasional light wind and sprinkle of snow. Edwin went towards his father’s room with a steady step, his unbuttoned coat waving faintly as he did.

At the other end of the quaint hamlet, he stopped in front of a door. He raised his hand, ready to knock. And as his hand was about to hit the door, he heard a sizzle coming from within. So, he grabbed the knob and opened the door.

Aerin glanced behind himself. “A bit early for you, isn’t it?” peering into his molten metal, he asked.

“Got tired sleeping,” Edwin looked around the forge, fingering the swords by the wall. “Anything needs doing?”

The smith threw down a battered blade. “Today is… the sixteenth year,” he spoke with his eyes still on the burning coal. He mumbled something underneath his breath and walked into the nearby room. Then, moments after, he walked out towards Edwin with a sword in its sheath.

“A sword?” Edwin looked at the sheathed blade in Aerin’s hand.

“In the hills to the east, there is a mine,” he looked at the entrance. “In that mine, there is a gate. Behind that gate, is a key,” Aerin looked into Edwin’s eyes. “You’ll take that key, and…”

Aerin paused. His eyes moved away from Edwin’s gaze, then came back, just to move again. This went on for a while. A while that felt awfully long. “And then what?” Edwin interrupted the pause.

“…I don’t know,” Aerin stretched out his hand towards Edwin and handed him the sword. “There is… nothing there that will harm you. It will be a short trip. An hour there and an hour back.”

“And that’s it? Nothing else that I need to do?”

“Nothing else. Take the key behind the gate. That is all you need to do.”

“And then come back.”

Aerin gave off a short sigh and then, his lips formed the slightest curve. He raised his hand and patted Edwin’s head, slowly and softly. “…That is all you need to do,” he repeated and returned to his forge, ignoring the boy who stood with a sheathed sword.

Edwin gave a nod, and he walked out and off towards the east.

“…Could’ve at least given me a horse,” Ed mumbled, half an hour into his walk. “Could’ve also taken it, doubt he’d mind.”

Around the slightly snow-obscured road were small hills, dressed in white and plain as the sky. There was an occasional tree on one of the hills. Lonesome figures, they were. Tall and without leaves or company. Nearly as lonesome as his home. He was, after all, friendless. Anise, the girl that had lived with him, had gone away some four years ago.

In the hills were also disinterested moose walking about, followed by very interested wolves, and there were foxes playing in mounds of snow. But, besides those animals, and those scattered trees, there was nothing on this road. Never was, either. Or so Edwin thought, though he did not remember if he had ever gone this way before. He did not remember leaving his hamlet at all.

Some odd twenty minutes later, Ed arrived at the aforementioned hills. These hills were different than the ones before due to the fact that they were taller and, as Aerin had told him, there was a mine. The entrance was easy enough to spot, it being a bunch of large stones sticking out and a set of flimsy doors below a stony roof. Who dug here and why was an unknown. Edwin knew no one but the few people in his home, and never had he heard anything about any other villages.

He walked up towards the entrance. One of the doors creaked as he pushed them open, the other just fell down with an awkward thump. And then, he saw nothing. It was pitch black inside. Conveniently, there was a stack of torches right by the open door. And these were fancy frostfire torches that merely needed two quick taps on the head before burning a bright blue. Edwin did just that.

The walls inside were rough and covered in marks that indicated digging, or meek chiselling. Abandoned tools were strewn about alongside empty crates and a single cart. A clumsy set of wooden stairs led downwards. The wood was moist, and there was cobweb about. With a steady and careful step, Edwin tested the first stair, and then the second, and so on. Not letting his guard down, he ventured to the bottom floor. Or so he thought. Another set of stairs led further down. He repeated his strategy. Then, as he somewhat expected, there was another set. But this one, he believed, was final.

And he had not been wrong. His feet touched the flat, strangely polished ground at the very bottom. A faint light came from up ahead. There, some six meters tall, was a great black gate, made of two perfect sheets of stone. He walked up closer. The stone was shiny, reflective almost. A thousand small stars of every possible colour slowly drifted across the gate. He put his hand against the stone. It was warm. Pleasant. The stars began to coalesce near his fingertips in an erratic dance. Then, as if some strange understanding came to him, he put his other hand on the other half of the gate. The warmth spread from his finger throughout his body. His golden eyes were, he believed, starting to glow faintly.

Then, a faint sound came from behind the door. Like a click. It was followed by a hollow sound, reverberating throughout the mine. Edwin took a few steps back as the gate opened wide. Slowly, at first, but then it quickened to reveal a blinding white room.

He walked into this palace of sorts. It was not a singular room, but many more, connected by passageways. Yet, they could barely be seen as the immaculate white hid any and every edge inside. Edwin moved slowly, his hand tracing the wall next to him. He could not make out where one room started and another began, nor was he sure if there ever were any walls here to begin with. Though his hand did feel the white stone, some odd reason made him think he was merely imagining it.

Ed moved forward with the belief that this was a passageway into another room, and that there was, in fact, a room on either side. He felt as if he needed to believe this. He felt that none of this would exist if he did not.

Then, when he turned a fourth corner after a fifth passage, he came by a vivid round pedestal. Three steps did it have towards it, circling the entire room in its wideness. On top the pedestal appeared to be a sheath of white stone running into it. And in that sheath, a black sword. It was stuck halfway into the sheath. A deep blue orb was its pommel, the sheath was wrapped in strips of leather as dark as the void. The crossguard was like a set of wings turned downwards. Wings that appeared to have a single large feather. And then, the blade itself. A calm night filled by stars. They ran across the surface. White, blue and golden, they were. And there were words running right through the middle. Words that Edwin could not possibly understand.

Without even realizing it, he had walked up to it and grasped the hilt. This was the key, was it not? A key to… a key to what?

He began to pull the blade out. There was no resistance. Smoothly, like it just popped out.

He held the sword in his hands. Long, beautiful and stainless.

Familiar. This sword was familiar.

Remembrance. This sword had killed. No, because of it, a single person died.

Who? A man underneath the sun. Witnessed by false gold.

Where? A place alike a garden. An oaken tree. This was the first.

Envy. Jealousy. That was the reason. The inability to comprehend the blade.

Justice. Truth. This was what the blade sought. This was what the key was.

Those who understand the truth can claim it without fault.

Edwin grasped the blade tightly. Somehow, without any possible reason, he was halfway home. He was not walking, though. Rather, he lay on the snowy ground, cradling the sword. Slowly, he stood up and gathered his bearings. A slight ache pulsed in his head, and his vision blurred for a while.

He took a deep breath. Then another. And a third one. He felt… fine. As if nothing had transpired. And without missing a beat, he stepped homeward. Quickly did he walk underneath the cracked clouds.

And then, without realizing it, he made his first step back into the village. Edwin headed straight for the centre, towards Aerin’s house. He found the door of his little dwelling open, the flames of the forge cold, and the interior vacant.

Edwin entered. He then, despite knowing it was a breach of privacy, entered Aerin’s bedroom. There was but a single bed, next to it a table with a lantern on top. And nothing else. No books like in Ed’s room, nor were there any decorations. A simple room, windowless and with dull grey walls.

He backed out of the room and out of the house itself. Looking at the building, he realized that something was missing. The single-floor abode lacked something, but Edwin did not understand what.

Ed shook his head and went towards the opposite side of the village centre where the feasting hall stood. He pushed the gates open and found himself in a long room without any lights. Without anything, except a single table between two pillars that held up the high… ceiling?

There was no ceiling. Neither was there a light coming from the sky that should be above the hall as there was no sky.

Upon exiting, he saw a sky, yes. That sky was a dark grey, nearing black, with cracks of white stretching throughout. The sound of distant thunder roared, and Edwin went around his home searching for his father.

He traversed quickly between the buildings, realizing now that there was a distinct lack of them. Outside the centre should have been a number of old and abandoned houses, nearing ruin, but there was nothing but snow. Mounds of grey, more ash than snow. And in the distance, between these ashy hills, was a clearing with a single lake. A flame-haired man stood there.

Edwin ran up to him. The man wore his black coat, but it was torn and ripped. In his right hand was a blade. It was not a sword, just a stick of chipped and cracked metal with a point. The smith walked towards the water.

“Aerin!” Edwin shouted and reached out for his father.

The man turned around. Edwin saw a smiling face. A face that he did not expect Aerin to make. There was a certain feeling in that smile. A feeling of success that had been sought for a long, long time.

Aerin threw an engraved sheath of black leather towards Edwin. “For your Key,” he said and looked up at the sky. “The long days are… coming to an end. I will wake up. And you, Edwin,” he looked towards the young boy. “That Key will help you remember.”

“What?”

“You’ll soon find yourself in an unknown place. Unknown to me, as well. There, you will be free,” Aerin walked towards Edwin. Aerin raised his weapon, and Edwin staggered backwards. The blade was plunged into the ground, and the same white cracks that formed in the sky started to spread through the earth.

“Aerin, what’s…”

“A dream is coming to an end. I’ve wasted a hundred lifetimes trying to attain my dream, and I’m no closer in my final days than I was in the start. I damn this contract! A thousand years of nothing but pain and I’ve nothing to show for it but a broken blade!” Aerin shouted, his arms stretched out, before pulling out the cracked blade. “You!” he shouted towards Edwin. “You’ve a contract yourself, unsigned though it may be! Remember! Remember your fate, lest I remind you of your first day here!” he yelled, his voice becoming louder and louder. At the same time, the cracks from both the land and the heavens started to form in the air itself. A great light came from them. A great light enveloped all that was. A great light, that was followed by a greater darkness.

And as the dark covered all that was, a faint light began to form at the very end. There came a pleasant sound. Waves dashing against the shore. The cry of birds. And then came a voice. A soft voice. An unfamiliar one, yet one he had heard before. Pleasant and youthful.

“…up!” did it keep repeating.

“…ke up!” again and again, but not even a hundred times could make it less pleasant.

“Wake up, imbecile!” then came a kick to the stomach.

Edwin’s eyes nearly jumped out of his sockets when he opened them. He raised his torso near instantaneously and held his hand over the impact point. He rotated left and right, but could not find his assailant. Then, from behind, a shadow crept up. He looked above to find himself face to face with a set of brown eyes and a frown. Or was it more of a smirk. Regardless, the long hair coming from that head started to tickle him as it dropped down on his cheeks.

“Can I help you?” he asked the person leaning above him.

“Yes. Wake up and stand up before a large enough wave comes by and eats you up.”

Edwin, prompted by what seemed a young lady, did just so. He faced the girl, who had hair as long as him though far darker, and a simple dress of light brown and cream. Or, it should be said, a long-sleeved shirt and very wide and long skirt. A silver crescent necklace, as well. She had her knuckles on her hips and her smirk, or frown.

“Thanks,” she said. “It would be unfortunate to see someone drown due to a bout of beach sleeping. I’d be feeling terribly down for a while.”

“No problem,” Edwin responded. “Where am I?” he looked around himself. There was a sandy shore where he stood. The sea to his left, blue and endless. Emerald hills to his right, with grass and flowers and a light breeze that moved them. And above him was a sky. A sky he had never seen before. White clouds, in varying shapes, moving slowly across the teal heavens, like ships in the water. And above them was an orb of golden fire. A Sun that watched over the lands and seas. Edwin kept looking around, not realizing that the girl in front of him had changed her frown/smirk into a pout.

“Is your ignoring a common occurrence? Is it?”

“Hmm… Yes,” he looked at the girl and, without breaking his still face, apologized.

“I see…” she sighed. “You’re at a beach, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“Yes. But where?”

“A nameless beach. But even if it was named, would it help you? Of course not. You couldn’t pinpoint it if you wanted to. You’re in a strange land, next to a strange person.”

“Right. Who are you?”

She put her palm on her chest. “Talye. And you are Edwin.”

Ed raised a brow. “Don’t recall telling you my name.”

“You didn’t,” she exhaled and looked into the distance. “In any case, I’ve woken you up. I suggest you go up those hills before you reach the road. Head eastwards. That’s where the Sun rises from. You’re bound to run into a helpful hand.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll skulk about in the distance while following you,” she chuckled and bowed. “Don’t let me catch you falling asleep on any beaches again. We’ll talk more in the near future, bye-bye!” and with that, she ran off into the distance and disappeared from sight.

Edwin sighed. He noticed that both his black sword and its sheath were lying on the floor. He attached the sheath to his sash and then placed the sword into the sheath, where it was supposed to go. Then, heeding the words of Talye, he climbed up towards the rolling hills and went towards a road off into the distance.

And once more he began to walk on a long and winding road. But before even properly starting to walk, he felt his stomach rumble. He wanted to grab a snack from his satchel. However, he had neither a satchel nor a snack with him as he had forgotten to take both. Then again, he had not believed he would be in the middle of wherever. Frustrated, he lightly hit his stomach, telling it to be quiet. It did not remain quiet.

But at least he could take some solace through his surroundings. The greenery, the sky and even the thin and long dirt road filled him with a feeling of ataraxia. And so, tranquil as he was, he took one deep breath and ignored his hunger, his drying throat and even his legs that would no doubt soon be sore, all because of the idyll about him.

With a now clear mind, he thought about what needed to be done. First of all, he would listen to the words of a stranger, silly as it was. Eastwards until he walked into a helping hand. Then, depending on the help he would receive, his next move would be made clear. Alongside that, he also knew he would need to find out what happened to Aerin and their village. He did not doubt Aerin’s wellbeing, but he needed some answers that had gnawed at him for many years, even though he himself was not sure what the answers were for.

Quite some time passed on the road. The sky was burning. It was a strange sight, seeing the orange and the white up in the sky. The Sun was facing his back, though with every step it started to go lower and lower. It would eventually fall somewhere behind distant hills.

It was at that time, just as the Sun touched the tip of a hill, a figure appeared on the road. It was a man, walking towards Edwin from quite a distance. Next to him were two other men. The most peculiar thing about them were the weapons that they openly carried in their hands. Axes, mostly. One had a shield with the axe. And of the three, only one wore clothes with sleeves. The others had their arms showing. And stomach, and chest. They wore more of a leather harness, really.

Edwin slowed down. They had obviously noticed him by now as he was some hundred meters away from them. These men were most likely planning on robbing him. But, as he had nothing of value on his person, they would most likely kill him. He could run, he thought, but his hunger pangs would most likely kick him and get him killed, as well. He could fight, he also thought. Maybe luck was on his side and they would trip and die in the scuffle.

No matter what, it was a kill or be killed situation. Keeping that in mind, Edwin grasped the hilt of his steel sword and proceeded forward. And soon after, he was face to face with the trio of would-be robbers. They stopped in front of him a few feet away.

One of the men then began to speak. Edwin did not understand a single word. There were a bunch of gahs and rahs and wahs in there, but nothing he could make out. Another voiced his own sounds. Unintelligible, as well.

“What?” he said to them. With both brows raised and his hand still on his sheathed sword, he stared them down.

Then, the left man looked at the right man and uttered a few words. The right man then spoke to the centre man who appeared to nod. Was this all some sort of misunderstanding? Edwin was still tensed up and fixated on the man in the middle.

It would have been a very silent stare down, had there not been any crying birds. Their staring continued for some time. Ed was still unsure of what was going on. The answer arrived shortly after.

The central man looked to his companions, shrugged his shoulders, then swung his axe at Edwin. It was a very strong, and a very wild swing downwards. So wild and strong, in fact, that Edwin merely needed to step backwards in order for the man to collapse face first into the ground. The other two men rushed in afterwards, though they were far more careful.

Edwin took out his sword and swung it sideways at their weapons. Then, the axes... were severed in half? Ed realized he took out his black blade. Had he known that would have happened, he would not have been as tense as he was.

The two were bewildered. The right one raised his shield and cowered beneath it, yelling very loudly. The other one had already disappeared somewhere. The man in the ground crawled away, leaving a trail of blood. He had fallen on his axe. The shield one, seeing Edwin not attack, dropped his aforementioned shield and helped his downed friend up. Both of them walked away as quickly as they could muster.

Edwin did not sheathe his sword. He could not. Every inch of his body was being held back by him. Maybe that was why they were afraid. Afraid of the man gritting his teeth and trembling violently with wide open eyes. Afraid of the sword that cut through both wood and steel like through butter.

The men slowly disappeared from his vision, and he felt no invisible hand holding him down. He sheathed his blade. Edwin was unsure of what happened, but he was drenched in sweat and filled with a feeling not quite his own. That feeling passed moments after. He could now breathe easy and continue his trip. Or so he believed. But then he saw a fourth man on the road.

And once again, Ed stood face to face with a stranger who might want to rob him. This one wore a dark green cloak over his head and clothes of both fur and leather. He, however, carried no weapons with him, but he also spoke in a language Edwin did not understand.

“Don’t understand you,” he said, futile as it was.

Then, the man gave out a sigh, as if realizing something, and took off his hood. He had long, ginger hair, and pale eyes. A stubbly chin, but a mellow face. There was a kind look in his gaze, as if seeing a friend after a very long time.

After taking off his hood, he began to speak. “You’re a stranger to these lands, too, I take it?” he had a slight accent of sorts. A rhoticity in his words. “Been a while since I saw someone not native. Saw you giving those robbers a scare, as well. Amateurs, I say.”

Edwin gave a light nod. “Where are we?” he asked.

“As of right now, we’re on a road. Between the towns of Lidning and Trean, to be more precise. I’ve a map, should more clarification be needed,” the man looked towards the sea, a mirror showing the early evening Sun. He then noticed that Edwin still had a confused look about him, slightly smiled and turned his head towards the sea once more. “Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m from…” Edwin stopped to think. His home, did it have a name? He could not remember it for the life of him. “My village,” he responded.

“Oh, ah… a name, then. We’ve yet to be properly introduced, after all. I am Rheinald. Rheinald Kothris. And you?”

“Edwin.”

“A pleasure,” Rheinald extended his hand for a shake. Edwin quietly observed the man’s open hand. Slowly, he neared his own hand and grasped it. Firmly. Rheinald’s grip was firmer. They shook hands and Rheinald tilted his head. “Peculiar. Can’t really judge where you’re from by your accent – might help if you spoke more. The name Edwin, though… Roddani.”

“Not from there, far as I know,” Edwin cleared his throat. “Got something to drink?”

“I, uh, no. Not on me, at least. Was only going on my daily walk, see. I’ve got plenty at home, however. A cold stew I can heat up, as well. And a spare bedroom for the weary traveller, which you are. And as you are lost, you’ve no choice but to come with me or take your chances in the wilderness.”

“You’re awfully trusting.”

“As are you. I think.”

Edwin crossed his arms and sighed. “I accept your offer. But I am leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Oh? Where, exactly, are you headed?”

“Somewhere,” Edwin held the scabbard of his black blade. “South,” he said, staring at the pommel of his sword

“Across the sea, to Saarast?” Rheinald held his chin. There was a silence, for a little while, interrupted by the click of his fingers. “Well, let’s forget about mornings for now and go on our merry way! Nights tend to get a little cold around here. A little too cold, I say.”

“Your home is east?”

Rheinald nodded. “The outskirts of Trean. The Moon will be just a bit high in the horizon by the time we arrive.”

“Good,” Edwin then marched off eastwards, taking the lead.

“At least you know your directions,” Rheinald shrugged his shoulders and walked side-by-side with Edwin. The walk was silent, though Rheinald did his best to liven it up. He did not succeed, so he resorted to humming and whistling. Ed paid no heed, though he was not annoyed.

And as Rheinald had said, the Moon was just a bit high in the sky by the time they reached Trean. It had two layers of palisades, but otherwise seemed small. Fifteen houses, maybe, built from logs and with two floors. There was also a very large house in the very middle, a mansion, or a great hall.

Rheinald’s house was just to the west, a few steps away from the outer wall. It had a single floor, but was rather wide, and it had a brick chimney though no smoke came out of it. Rheinald unlocked the dark wooden door of his house and allowed Edwin to enter first. Ed was, at this point, still wary.

He saw that the interior was well-lit. There was a fur carpet in the very middle of the house, in front of a cold fireplace, and a set of chairs. The fireplace had a pot above it – the stew Rheinald had mentioned, most likely – covered by a lid. There were four other doors connected to this middle room. A bedroom, a spare bedroom, and whatever else. Besides that, there were no ornaments, excluding the four lanterns hanging about. No stuffed animal heads or weapons, nor any paintings or statues. Empty.

“I’ll heat the stew up,” Rheinald said as he closed the door. He grabbed a flint and steel from a box above the fireplace and lit the pre-set firewood. Then he took off his cloak and offered to take Ed’s coat. He refused. Rheinald sat down on one of the chairs, leaned back a bit, then slapped his thighs and stood up. “You said you’re thirsty, right?” he walked up to one of the doors, opposite the fireplace, and shuffled about inside. Edwin crawled up without notice and observed the man pouring mead from a keg into two tankards. He observed his fingers, closely, and saw that he had no time to throw anything deadly inside. Afterwards, Rheinald left the room, closed the door with his foot, and offered a tankard to Edwin.

“Thanks,” he mumbled out and sniffed the contents. Sweet. Honey and apples. He then sipped it first, quickly gulping it down afterwards. “Fruity. Apples and… what?”

“Rose hips,” Rheinald said whilst drinking his own mead. “Family recipe. The brewer can make it, though. Never found the time to properly learn how to brew my own.”

“And your family?”

“Well, mother died when I was very young, so I don’t remember her all that well. My da though, gone for some… five, six years now? Been living here alone since then. Built the house myself. Good exercise, I tell you, chopping wood, rolling logs, hammering nails,” he sat down in front of the fireplace. “But at the end of the day, though I furnished and polished this house as best I could, I still remain here all alone,” he sipped on his mead. “What about your family?”

“I was with my father, before coming here,” Ed looked into the fire that cracked and sizzled. “Don’t know where he’s now.”

“And mother?”

“Never had one.”

“Ah. The little I remember of my own mother makes me miss her,” Rheinald chuckled. “I’d say the stew is warm enough now. Want a bowl?”

Edwin nodded, and Rheinald delivered two bowls of warm venison stew. He took out a small table and placed it in front of the two chairs where the two now sat. Ed devoured his meal quickly while Rheinald meticulously delivered stew-carrying spoons into his mouth. “Is there more?”

“Should be,” he stood up and leaned towards the pot before sitting back down. “There’s more. Two, three servings, I think.”

Edwin walked up towards the pot and filled another bowl with a ladle. And, just as he did with the first bowl, he devoured the second one. This time, however, he put the empty bowl down and leaned against his chair. “Good stew,” he muttered out. “But lacks some spice.”

“Can’t buy any spices here. Far too north for anyone to think it would be worth it.”

“Shame. A little spice would make it better. Maybe some vinegar, too. Stews taste better when they’re a bit sour.”

“Well, like I said, no market for that here. South, though, is a plenty big market. Good thing you’re leaving tomorrow, eh?”

“Can I just walk south? Or is there just a sea?”

“Well, if you go east enough first, you can go south by foot. Saarast and Anfrel are divided by a river to the east. Though it’d be faster going by boat. There’s a small village with a port not too far, but don’t know what crossing a sea with a rowboat looks like.”

“There, then?”

“To the village? With the rowboats? Well, maybe you get lucky and there’s a bigger ship there, but… I don’t know if you can manage to cross the sea if there isn’t one.”

“Hmm…” Edwin stood up, rather abruptly. “I’ll think about it when I get there. Now, spare bedroom?”

“Oh, uh, it’s the left door,” he pointed to a room opposite the entrance. “If it gets too cold during the night, there are more blankets below the bed.”

“Right, thanks,” he walked up to the room and opened the door. “Good night,” he said as he closed himself inside.

The room was dark, though there was a light coming through a window. The bed was not too large, though it was not too small either. He would fit and would hopefully be comfortable. That was all that mattered. He took off his coat and placed it a top a desk. His swords he placed against the wall next to the bed. He untied his sash and placed it atop the coat, then he took off his boots and untied his hair. In one quick spinning motion, he threw himself on the bed and covered his body in the sheets. The bed was not too soft, but it was cosy enough for the time being. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He thought about the girl he had met earlier, and how uncannily similar she looked to someone he knew. Who that someone was, though, was a question he could not answer.