The fire crackled softly in the middle of the snowy forest.
Orange flames danced between stacked pieces of firewood, sending small sparks drifting into the dark evening sky. Behind the trees, the waterfall roared endlessly, its distant thunder echoing through the cold air.
Vein sat beside the fire.
His clothes had finally dried, the warmth brushing gently against his skin. Snow fell slowly around the clearing, melting the moment it touched the rising heat.
For a while, he simply stared into the flames.
Quiet. Still.
Lost in thought.
Three months.
That was how long he had lived in this world. Three months of training. Three months of fighting. Three months of slowly becoming someone else. Someone stronger. Someone people relied on.
The fire shifted, its flames twisting in the wind.
Sometimes, it felt strange.
This life. This world.
Mr. Johan. Rosa. Elna. Sylva. Kael.
People who trusted him. People who called his name without hesitation.
A small smile appeared.
"…this place is warm."
Too warm.
Warm enough that sometimes, he forgot this wasn't the life he was born into. Forgot that somewhere, there had been another world. Another version of him.
A life he rarely allowed himself to remember.
Until a face surfaced.
Sharp. Clear. Refusing to fade.
Vein froze.
The firelight flickered in his eyes.
"…no…"
But the memory didn't leave.
A street. Rain falling cold from the sky. Voices shouting.
And someone behind him—
A girl.
Her eyes wide. Her voice trembling as she called his name.
Vein's fingers tightened.
"…Anna."
The name slipped out quietly.
His head lowered. His shoulders trembled.
"I'm sorry…"
His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry…"
Tears fell, slow and steady.
"I failed to protect you…"
The words barely formed.
In that life, he had been weak. Too weak to save someone who believed in him. Too weak to stop what happened. Too weak to change the ending.
Vein pressed his face into his hands, his body shaking beside the quiet fire.
"…why…"
His voice trembled.
"…why did I get a second chance?"
In this world, people trusted him. Believed in him. Relied on him.
Things he had never deserved.
"I don't deserve this…"
The words broke apart.
"I don't deserve another life…"
The fire crackled softly. Snow continued to fall. The forest remained silent.
Then, a memory surfaced.
Not from his past life.
But from the moment between life and death.
A woman standing in endless darkness, holding a single candle. Her eyes were calm, her voice gentle.
And the words she had spoken—
Your life will become a letter.
Vein's eyes widened.
His hand moved instinctively to his pocket. His fingers touched paper.
He pulled it out slowly.
The letter.
The one he had carried since the beginning.
Even now, after rain, battles, and months of travel, the paper remained perfect. Untouched. Unchanged.
As if time itself refused to claim it.
Vein stared at it.
Blank.
No ink. No words. Nothing written.
Only empty white space.
Waiting.
For a long time, he said nothing.
He only watched it.
And wondered what kind of story his life was meant to write.
—
The fire crackled quietly as snow drifted through the clearing. Vein still held the letter in his hand.
Then—
A sound.
Soft. Too soft.
From within the forest.
Vein's head lifted, his eyes sharpening.
The trees stood still. Snow rested along the branches. No movement. No animals. No wind.
And yet—
Something was there.
He stood, slipping the letter back into his pocket, then stepped toward the forest. Snow crunched beneath his feet as he moved carefully between the trees.
The darkness remained still.
Too still.
His gaze dropped to the ground.
Untouched snow. No footprints. No tracks.
Nothing.
For a moment, he thought he had imagined it.
Then he saw it.
A branch.
Broken.
Fresh.
Something had passed through here.
Vein's eyes narrowed.
Someone had been here.
Then he realized—
The sound hadn't come from the front.
It had come from behind.
He moved instantly, turning as his hand shot backward—
He caught an arm.
Warm. Real.
But in the next second, it slipped away.
Fast. Too fast.
A shadow landed several steps away.
A figure cloaked in black from head to toe, face hidden beneath a hood.
Vein narrowed his eyes.
"…who are you?"
No answer.
The figure stepped back.
Vein moved first, striking fast, his attacks sharp and precise.
Every blow missed.
The figure moved like water, flowing around his strikes, slipping past each attack without countering.
Again.
And again.
Vein's eyes sharpened.
"…you're good."
No response.
The figure stepped back once more.
Then Vein changed his approach.
No strike. No feint.
He lunged forward and grabbed the cloak.
This time, he didn't let go.
The figure pulled. Vein pulled harder.
The fabric tore free.
He spun and threw it aside.
The cloak fell into the snow.
And the figure stood revealed.
Vein froze.
"…what?"
Silver hair moved softly in the cold wind.
Familiar eyes met his.
Sylva.
—
Vein stared at her, still processing.
"…Sylva?"
She blinked once, then nodded.
"Yes. It's me."
"…what are you doing here?"
Sylva tilted her head slightly.
"I should be the one asking that."
She folded her arms.
"What are you doing here?"
Vein scratched the back of his neck.
"I just finished training."
Sylva looked him up and down.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"…training?"
Her gaze dropped to his bare upper body.
"You train without wearing a shirt?"
Vein froze, then looked down.
"…ah."
His face turned red.
Without another word, he rushed to the fire, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it on quickly.
Behind him, Sylva laughed softly.
"It's fine," she said, her tone teasing. "If you wanted to show off the body you trained for three months, I don't mind."
"I wasn't doing that!"
He pulled the shirt over his head, then paused.
"…wait."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned toward her.
"How do you know I've been training for three months?"
Sylva froze for a brief moment.
"…what?"
"You said three months."
Vein stepped closer.
Sylva blinked, then looked away.
"…well…"
She scratched her cheek.
"I mean, we haven't seen each other for three months. So obviously you've been training for three months."
Her words came out too quickly.
"Not like I come here every day to watch you train or anything."
Vein tilted his head.
"…so you come here every day to watch me train?"
Sylva's face turned bright red.
"N-no! That's not what I meant!"
She waved her hands frantically, then stopped, clearly scrambling.
"…I just…"
Vein leaned slightly closer.
Waiting.
Sylva's lips trembled. Her face flushed deeper.
Then she turned away sharply.
"Idiot!"
She crossed her arms.
"You're so dense!"
She started walking away.
"…I'm leaving."
She muttered under her breath.
"Honestly… so insensitive."
Vein blinked.
"…what?"
She kept walking.
Then Vein moved.
He reached out and caught her wrist.
Sylva froze.
"…eh?"
Vein froze too, then immediately let go.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to—"
Sylva looked down at her hand, her cheeks still faintly red.
"…it's fine."
Her voice softened.
Vein hesitated, then spoke again.
"Actually… I was worried about you."
Sylva blinked.
"…worried?"
Vein nodded.
"After what happened on the hill. I didn't even get the chance to visit you."
"…sorry."
Sylva stared at him, then shook her head gently.
"No. You don't have to apologize. I'm fine."
Vein looked up and smiled faintly.
"But I'm glad."
"…glad?"
"I'm glad you're okay."
He paused.
"…and seeing you here… with my own eyes…"
"…makes me really happy."
Sylva froze.
Her face turned red again as she quickly looked away.
"…idiot."
Then, before he could react, she stepped forward and hugged him.
Vein froze.
Sylva buried her face against his chest.
"I was worried too," she said softly. "I watched you train every day… from far away."
Her grip tightened.
"I wanted to come talk to you… but I was scared."
Her voice dropped.
"I thought you might still be angry at me."
"…angry?"
She nodded slightly.
"I thought maybe you blamed me."
Vein shook his head.
"I'm not angry."
He smiled gently.
"Actually… I'm glad."
Sylva looked up slightly.
"…you're glad?"
"Yeah. I'm glad you're here."
Sylva stared at him, then exhaled softly.
"…I know."
They stood there under the pale moonlight, snow drifting quietly around them, the fire crackling nearby.
For a moment, nothing else mattered.
After a while, Sylva stepped back.
"…so. What were you doing out here alone?"
"…training."
Vein scratched his head, then glanced toward the dark forest.
"…and thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"…tomorrow."
"…tomorrow?"
"Kael."
Sylva's eyes sharpened.
"A duel."
Vein nodded.
"If I beat him, my training ends."
Sylva's eyes widened slightly.
"You're fighting Kael?"
Vein gave a helpless smile.
"Yeah. But honestly… I don't think I can win."
Sylva frowned.
"Why not?"
"He's a Royal Knight. He has real combat experience. I've only trained for three months."
Sylva stepped closer.
"…then win."
Vein blinked.
"…that simple?"
She nodded.
"Of course."
Then a small, mischievous smile appeared.
"If you win tomorrow…"
"…if I win?"
She crossed her arms.
"I'll give you whatever you want."
Vein stared.
"…anything?"
She nodded confidently.
"Anything."
They looked at each other for a moment.
Then Vein laughed quietly.
"…you shouldn't say things like that."
Sylva huffed.
"You should focus on winning first."
Vein nodded slowly.
"…yeah."
"I guess I should."
—
The fire dimmed until only faint embers remained.
Sylva raised her hand. The air shifted as wind gathered softly around her fingers. Not violent. Not loud. Just gentle.
The current spread around them.
Snow lifted slightly from the ground.
Then they rose.
Not flying. Not soaring.
Just hovering.
The wind carried them forward, slow and silent, gliding through the forest without leaving a single footprint.
Branches passed beside them. Their shadows drifted across the snow under the moonlight.
"…this is faster," Sylva said.
Vein glanced down.
"…I could get used to this."
Sylva smiled faintly.
The wind carried them onward through the silent forest, back toward the farm.
And in Vein's mind, tomorrow lingered.
Because when the sun rose, his three months of training would finally be tested.