The journey from Lucy's small town had stretched over three long days. The road had wound steadily northward, the air growing thinner and colder with each passing mile. By the time the company reached the northern border, the warmth of the southern plains had long been left behind.
Frost laced the edges of the trees. The sky hung low, pale and heavy with mist.
Robert was the first to speak when the carriage rolled to a stop before a small village inn nestled against the mountainside. "It seems we'll reach Vaelthorn Estate in another two days," he said, his breath clouding in the chill air. "Let's take a rest here for the night. The guards and horses need proper rest—and so do we."
Elric agreed. The men looked exhausted, and even she could feel the ache in her shoulders from the endless ride.
Kael stepped down from the carriage last. The cold wind brushed against his face, stealing his breath for a moment. It wasn't freezing, but sharp enough to sting. He inhaled deeply, letting the familiar bite of cold settle in his lungs.
The sensation stirred something deep within him—memories that didn't belong to this world. A sky just like this one. A quiet winter morning from his other life.
He stood there, unmoving, eyes fixed on the gray-blue horizon as though lost somewhere far beyond it.
Robert noticed his distant expression. "Young master," he called softly, stepping closer. "You shouldn't stand out here dressed so thinly." Without waiting for a response, Robert took a thick fur-lined robe from his arm and draped it gently over Kael's shoulders. "Before you catch a cold, at least."
Kael didn't protest. He simply let Robert adjust the robe for him, the faint smell of pine and smoke clinging to the fabric.
When the butler was satisfied, he gave a small nod. "Come, young master. Your room is ready."
The inn was modest but warm. The scent of burning wood filled the air, and a low fire crackled softly in the hearth. Robert guided Kael to his room, opening the door and stepping aside. "We'll move after sunrise," he said, his tone brisk but gentle. "Rest well, and I'll bring some supper shortly."
Kael nodded faintly and entered. The room was simple: one bed, one wooden table, a small sofa by the fireplace. It was quiet—too quiet. When Robert closed the door behind him, the silence deepened.
Kael lowered himself onto the sofa, the warmth of the fire licking against his chilled skin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring into the flames.
The firelight reflected in his red eyes like twin sparks of gold.
He thought of Elric's words—the cursed children, the Taylor Foundation, the orphanage. His chest felt heavy. The fragments of his dreams still clung to him like smoke: the red-haired children, the blood, the man with the sword.
His fingers pressed unconsciously against his chest, right where the phantom pain had flared.
A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts. The door opened slightly, and Elric peeked her head through. "Is this room to your liking?"
Kael turned his head toward her. He didn't answer, but his gaze said enough.
Elric smiled faintly and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She sat on the edge of the bed, resting her elbows on her knees. "You remember what I said a few days ago?" she asked lightly. "About writing a letter to Reinhardt?"
She reached into her small satchel and drew out a stack of fine parchment, a quill, and a small vial of ink. "How about trying it now?"
Kael blinked, silent, uncertain.
Elric chuckled softly at his expression. "Don't look so tense. It's just a letter," she teased, setting the items on the small table near the fire. "You can tell him whatever you want. Maybe even threaten him a little."
She smirked mischievously. "I'd love to see his reaction if you did."
Kael's eyes flickered to her, unsure if she was serious. He hesitated before reaching for the pen. The quill felt strange between his fingers—light, yet fragile.
He stared at the blank paper before him, the candlelight dancing over the surface. His reflection in the ink bottle wavered, pale and unreadable.
What should he write?
Where should he begin?
The idea of writing to Reinhardt—someone who once declared him dead for his sake—felt foreign. The words refused to come.
He lifted the quill slightly, then lowered it again.
Elric tilted her head, watching him in silence for a moment before she laughed softly. "You look like a lost student, Kael."
Her voice was teasing, warm. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm as she watched him. "Should I help you? Maybe start with 'Dear Reinhardt, I'll haunt your dreams if you lie to me'?"
Kael gave her a side glance that was half confusion, half reluctant amusement. He didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth shifted ever so slightly.
Elric grinned. "Ah, I saw that. That's almost a smile."
Kael turned back to the paper quickly, hiding the faintest trace of color on his cheeks.
Elric leaned back on the bed, still smiling. "Take your time," she said softly. "He'll read it no matter what you write. He always does when it comes from you."
Kael's eyes lingered on the blank page again. His hand hovered above it, the pen trembling slightly.
He didn't yet know what he wanted to ask, nor what truth he was ready to uncover—but he knew this was the first step.
The fire crackled softly beside him. The shadows danced on the walls. And in that quiet room, Kael began to write.
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The warmth of the fire filled the quiet inn room, the soft crackle of the burning logs echoing faintly against the wooden walls. Elric sat comfortably near the small table, her legs crossed, a folded letter in her hand.
Across from her, Kael rested on the sofa, his silver hair glowing faintly in the light. He was silent, as always, his calm presence filling the room.
Elric read the letter again, a gentle laugh slipping past her lips. "You really wrote this to him?" she said with amused disbelief, glancing at Kael. "I can't wait to see Reinhardt's face when he reads this."
The laugh lingered for only a moment before a soft knock interrupted her. The door opened slightly, and Robert stepped in carrying a tray.
"My lady—" he began, then froze. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Elric sitting casually in Kael's room, the letter in her hand and a faint blush still on her cheeks. "I… apologize. I did not realize you were here with the young master."
Elric waved dismissively, unbothered. "It's fine, Robert. You're always welcome."
Robert cleared his throat and placed the tray on the table. "I brought dinner for the young master." His voice remained polite, though his expression betrayed his curiosity. "Should I bring your dinner here as well, Lady Elric?"
Elric turned her gaze toward Kael, her lips curving with playful mischief. "Can't I?" she asked softly, tilting her head toward him as if asking for permission.
Kael didn't answer. His crimson eyes merely flickered to her, unreadable as ever.
Elric smiled, interpreting his silence in her own way. "I'll take that as a yes."
Robert sighed quietly, already suspecting how this would end.
"Then," Elric continued, her tone light, "bring me some wine as well. I think it's—"
Before she could finish, Robert's calm voice cut through. "No wine, my lady."
Elric blinked, turning toward him with a raised brow. "What?"
Robert's tone remained firm, though the faint crease between his brows betrayed his concern. "You remember the last time you drank wine, don't you? It took two guards and a healer to make sure you didn't climb the inn's rooftop to challenge a chimney to a duel."
Elric chuckled softly. "That was months ago."
"It was last month, my lady," Robert replied with a quiet sigh.
She laughed again, unbothered. "It's only tonight, Robert. Maybe just one glass?" Her tone was teasing, almost pleading.
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, "You'll be the end of my sanity someday…" Still, he gave in with a sigh and left to fetch her food.
The moment the door closed, silence fell again. Kael sat back, holding a teacup Robert had brought earlier. The faint steam curled upward, warming his face.
Elric leaned forward slightly, watching him with quiet curiosity. "Kael," she began softly, "did you have the same nightmare again?"
He turned toward her slowly, meeting her gaze. After a brief pause, he nodded. "But… my head hurts less now."
Elric exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. She placed the letter down and propped her chin on her hand, watching him through the soft glow of the fire. "Maybe," she said gently, "if you don't want it to hurt anymore… you should try to share what you're seeing with someone."
Her smile was faint but kind. "I'd be glad if you shared everything with me, Kael. I really hope I can ease your burden, even just a little."
Her hand reached across the table, finding his. Her fingers curled around his lightly, the warmth of her touch soft but steady.
Kael looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. The sincerity in her voice reached him, even if he couldn't find the words to answer. Slowly, he nodded once.
Elric's smile deepened, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand in quiet reassurance.
When Robert returned, the room smelled faintly of roasted meat and baked bread. He entered silently, though his eyes softened when he saw the two of them sitting quietly, the air between them calm.
He set the plates down, gave a short bow, and left them to their meal.
Dinner passed quietly. Kael ate little, but Elric didn't comment. Her gaze occasionally drifted toward him — sometimes fond, sometimes thoughtful. When they finished, Kael's fatigue began to show. His movements slowed, his eyes heavy.
"Rest," Elric said softly, taking the plate from his hand. "I'll handle this."
Kael didn't argue. Within moments, he was lying on the bed, his breathing evening out as sleep took him.
Elric stood beside him for a long moment, her expression softening. In sleep, he looked almost fragile — the cold hero everyone feared now just a quiet man haunted by old ghosts.
A faint knock drew her attention. Robert stood at the doorway again.
Elric walked to him, holding the sealed letter Kael had written earlier. "Can you send this to Reinhardt?" she said, offering it to him. "Tell him it's from Kael."
Robert's eyes widened slightly as he took the letter. "This… is from the young master?" His tone was cautious. "Is there a problem, my lady?"
Elric folded her arms, her gaze drifting briefly to Kael's sleeping form. "He's been dreaming again," she said quietly. "His memories of the past — the massacre of the cursed children. I told him about it."
Robert's expression darkened. "You mean the 'Curse Child Purge' the old kingdom conducted before the empire was formed?"
Elric nodded. "Yes. The same one. It seems… he's starting to remember pieces of it."
Robert glanced at Kael, his face filled with quiet worry. "Should we tell His Majesty everything?"
Elric shook her head. "No. Just tell him Kael wrote him a letter. He'll understand the rest when he reads it."
Robert hesitated, then nodded respectfully. "As you wish, my lady."
When he left, Elric lingered at the door a moment longer, watching Kael sleep. His pale hair spread across the pillow, his hand resting near the bracelet Reinhardt once gave him.
She whispered softly, "Reinhardt… you'd better be ready for what's coming."
The fire crackled behind her as she turned away. And in the quiet of that small inn, two hearts — one sleeping, one waiting — carried the weight of memories that refused to stay buried.