Riven didn't linger much longer.
The laughter faded behind him as he turned away from the slide and made his way back toward the lodge, the lantern-lit walkways carrying him through the trees. By the time he reached the entrance, the tightness in his chest had dulled to something quieter. Not gone. Just… managed.
Inside, the lodge was calmer than before. Evening had settled fully now, and most of the guests had retreated to their rooms.
Riven climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to their room.
Ziren was inside.
Standing. Pacing, actually — just a step or two back and forth near the window, arms folded, brow faintly creased.
That alone made Riven pause.
"You alright?" Riven asked, closing the door behind him.
He didn't really care, but he felt like he should be asking.
Ziren stopped mid-step, like he'd been caught doing something embarrassing. He straightened, cleared his throat once.
"…Have you seen Mei?"
Riven blinked.
"No," he said honestly. "Why?"
Ziren's ears tinted red almost immediately. "No reason."
He turned away a little too quickly.
An awkward silence settled.
Riven stood there for a second, unsure what to do with it. Then he shrugged, walked over, and dropped onto his bed with a dull thump, boots still on.
"You should ask the other girls," he said offhandedly. "They probably know where she is."
Ziren hesitated. "…I did."
Riven glanced over.
"They're out shopping," Ziren added. His tone was flat, but there was a trace of something resigned in it. "Clothes."
"Hmm." Riven bent to kick off his boots, one heel catching on the edge of the bedframe before finally slipping free.
Ziren continued.
"Of course they are. My mom and sister always did this too whenever we visited another town."
His arms were folded now.
"I keep forgetting," Ziren said, voice quieter, more thoughtful, "that even though we're cultivators now… we're still people. We still like what we like. That doesn't just disappear."
His eyes drifted for a moment, unfocused. Distant.
Then he caught himself.
"But seriously," he added, a faint edge of frustration slipping in, "why couldn't they have taken Mei with them? Then I wouldn't have to search the whole city."
Riven snorted before he could stop himself.
"That bad already?"
Ziren shot him a look. "She said she'd be back 'soon.' That was hours ago."
"Tragic," Riven said dryly, lowering himself onto the bed. "Truly."
Ziren huffed, then shook his head, the tension easing just a little. For a moment, he looked less like the sect's stoic prodigy and more like a normal guy annoyed at being left behind.
Riven stared up at the ceiling again.
Definitely not as standoffish as he'd seemed at first.
Still, whatever spark of conversation might've followed fizzled out before it could take hold. The disappointment from earlier — the maps, the dead ends, the quiet confirmation that home was still impossibly far away — weighed heavy in his chest.
He just didn't have the energy to talk.
"I'm going to sleep," Riven said after a moment.
Ziren glanced over, then nodded. "Yeah. Same."
Riven rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket up and letting the muffled sounds of Verdance drift in through the slatted window — distant laughter, wind through leaves, lantern chimes swaying somewhere far above.
Tomorrow he'd think about what to do now.
But for now—
Sleep came quickly.
>>>
Riven woke to quiet.
Not the deep, unsettling quiet of danger — just the muted stillness of early morning in Verdance. Pale green light filtered through the slatted window, lanterns outside dimmed to embers as dawn crept through the canopy.
The other bed was empty.
Ziren was gone.
Riven sat up slowly.
For a second, it didn't register. Then—
A cold shiver slid down his spine.
He looked around the room. His satchel was still where he'd left it. His clothes untouched. Nothing missing. No signs of disturbance.
Still.
Idiot.
The thought came unbidden, sharp and immediate.
He'd slept. Fully. Deeply. In the same room as someone he barely knew.
No precautions. No wards. No nothing.
Just because Ziren had talked about his family. Just because he'd seemed… human.
Mira had seemed human too.
Riven exhaled slowly, fingers curling into the blanket.
Tired or not. Disappointed or not. That wasn't an excuse.
This world didn't forgive that kind of mistake twice.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rolling his shoulders once like he was shaking the thought loose — though it lingered, heavy and unwelcome.
Be better.
Time passed as he sat there.
Eventually he steadied himself.
Nothing he could do about it now.
Except being more careful in the future.
Shit.
He stood up, leaving the room and slowly making his way downstairs to the inns dining room.
Food first.
The dining room was carved into a broad hollow of the tree, long wooden tables grown directly from the trunk. A few early patrons sat scattered about — travelers, merchants, maybe even cultivators murmuring over tea.
Riven ate quickly. Nothing fancy. It was some kind of fruit mixed with something from the forest. He didn't really know what it was. But it tasted alright.
As he ate, his eyes drifted toward the open balcony beyond the dining space — toward the city beyond.
Now that maps hadn't worked out, there was one more thing he could look for.
And he already knew where.
>>>
A little later, Riven found himself climbing again.
He moved upward through the shopping trees — past the lower stalls filled with trinkets and street food, past the mid-level walkways where most people lingered — until the air thinned slightly and the noise dulled to a distant murmur.
This was one of the highest traversable tiers of the orange-flowered trees.
Above the bustle. Below the canopy's crown.
The bark here was thicker, the platforms broader, reinforced with grown ribs of wood and vein-like channels of qi. Fewer stalls. Fewer voices. The kind of place where people with money came.
Riven slowed.
Ahead, set into the curve of the trunk, was the stall he remembered.
Its sign wasn't wood or paper.
A dull, dark ore plate hung above the entrance, catching light in strange ways. It was as if the metal itself was alive. The characters carved into it were simple:
"Beast Materials".