Hewin was waiting beside the bag while the flour poured in. The wheel of the watermill rattled outside in a steady rhythm...plop, plop, plop!

I am so sorry, my son. I failed you and your mother terribly...Plop!...No, I am from the void...Plop!...I greet you old prince...Plop!...Chase the darkness. Kill the darkness. Resist the darkness...Plop!

The bag was full and the flour started to spill out. Hewin came to his senses and hastily tried to tie the bag but the excess of the soft flour flew up right into Hewin's face. He coughed violently, his claws unconsciously extended and he accidentally ripped the bag. He slammed his fists angrily down only making it worse.

Falyar's curious face emerged from the second floor. Seeing the mess downstairs he shouted over the noise: "Let's have a break boy!"

After the massacre in the valley, Falyar has decided that Hewin needs activity and as little time for thinking as possible. So, Hewin was chopping wood, trimming the trees and bushes, and helping Falyar in the mill by the river. Mostly, Falyar's plan worked but now and then Hewin did find a moment for a nervous breakdown. He was never angry with the boy. Falyar saw the inside of Kaldir's and Halira's house, he buried them and had his own share of nightmares from it.

Also, Hewin dragged the weird black sword everywhere with him. They were inseparable, and Falyar understood the bond better than anyone. I have to make him a scabbard otherwise he will cut himself, Falyar mused.

They sat down outside on the steps of the mill. Hewin still coughed and Falyar patted his back.

"I am sorry Mr. Falyar, I don't know if I am much of a help," Hewin apologized.

Falyar smiled: "Nonsense! You just need more practice. We are Lynxarians, we are bound to rip a few bags apart."

"Right on time," Flayar exclaimed after Shenian had emerged on the hill, carrying lunch.

She wore baggy shorts and a green laced shirt. A basket was swinging on her shoulder with sandwiches and lemonade in a glass jug peeking out.

Shenian sat with them. Hewin and Falyar practically attacked the basket.

"Shenian, I must say, the pulled pork just melts in my mouth. It is so good!" Hewin mumbled while chewing. Falyar just nodded appreciatively.

"And I hunted the wild hog down as well!" Shenian boasted smiling.

Then she frowned: "Father, I was thinking on my way here. There are so many inconsistencies in the legend of your sword!"

"Oh no, Shenian the scholar came to visit us this day," Falyar said dryly.

Shenian waved her hand dismissively: "Oh, stop it, father! I am just curious. For example, how does anyone know that the hermit used it as a mirror? It's not as if anyone asked him since he lived in solitude. Or how weird it is that the name of the monster hunter, Xylandra, is an anagram. You can make Lynx Adra out of it, which means Lynx's Star, which is awfully close to the name of your sword, Lynxbright, and..."

"Just have a sandwich Shenian!" Falyar exclaimed. "I will not have the legend of my dear sword deconstructed to tiny little pieces! It is a legend, not a recipe for a stew. Oh my stripes!" Falyar grunted and went inside.

Shenian looked guilty, but just for a moment, then a grin brightened her face: "He will be alright, it's healthy for him to be teased once in a while."

Hewin shook his head and chuckled.

"See! It is working on you as well!" Shenian added enthusiastically.

"So you want to be a scholar?" Hewin asked.

"Oh, please. That would be so boring. I want to be a treasure hunter. Just imagine it! Traveling around the world, finding items like Lynxbright, reveal the truth in their stories!" Shenian told him.

Hewin raised an eyebrow: "That sounds like you want to be a scholar that travels, Shenian."

"You sound exactly like my father, Hew. What a pity," she turned away and took a paper and a pencil from the basket. She started scribbling something.

Hewin tried to peek over her shoulder. "Hey!" Shenian pushed him: "I am writing to my boyfriend from the village. Be a gentleman and don't look!"

"Alright, I am sorry!" Hewin replied, annoyed. "Why don't you speak to him face to face, though?" he asked.

Shenian replied in an unpleasant tone: "I would love to. But he is a human and my father would lose his temper if he knew. So it is a secret and we mostly leave letters for each other under a stone in the forest."

Hewin did not have any experience with romance and he spent years in a place where humans treated him like a leper. So to him, the existence of that relationship sounded outlandish. "Ah, ok," he just said in the end.

After some minutes of awkward silence, Hewin thanked Shenian for the lunch and went to clean his mess in the mill.

In the evening, Hewin took down his white working shirt and apron and yawned. For the first time since he escaped the mining colony, he felt hopeful that he could actually fall asleep quickly. And he began to understand why. They care for me. Falyar gave me a bed in his house, gave me work. Shenian is teasing us both. It almost feels like a normal life, well at least short glimpses of a normal life, Hewin thought as he locked the mill for the night. But where is Vamika? Hewin was curious about Shenian's mother who wasn't there in the house and neither Shenian nor Hewin spoke of her. And what about Enyar? I need to have a conversation about him with Shenian at some point.

His train of thought was disrupted by rasping voices behind his back.

"Wa," said one. "Ævwu," a second one followed. "Nenùtlæ kænhuhe," a third voice finished. We recognize you, old prince, Hewin translated in his mind and felt the hope evaporating away. Not again, he despaired.