[One week later]
Sunlight filtered through unfamiliar windows, casting warm patterns across Vel's face. His eyelids fluttered open, consciousness seeping back like water through sand. Every muscle ached, but he could move—barely.
White walls. Empty shelves. A room he didn't recognize.
His throat felt dry, but he managed to call out instinctly. "Mom?"
A loud clang echoed from below, metal hitting wood. Rapid footsteps thundered up what must have been stairs, growing louder with each passing second.
Von burst through the doorway first, Mari right behind him. Their faces lit up with a mixture of worry and joy at seeing him awake.
"Vel! You're awake!" Mari's voice trembled as she rushed to his bedside, her hands hovering uncertainly over him as if afraid he might break.
Landre appeared in the doorframe, but something about her seemed off. Her usual warm presence felt distant, troubled. She lingered at the threshold before stepping inside with the others as they settled into chairs around his bed.
Vel's eyes darted between their faces, confusion evident in his expression. "Where are we, Mom?"
"We're home, sweetheart," Mari answered softly, reaching for his hand. "Our new home. Lady Halen gave us this house, just like she promised."
Vel's head throbbed as he tried to focus. Something strange caught his attention - translucent windows hovering above his family members' heads. He blinked hard, but the displays remained.
Above Von, a neat information panel floated:
Vonowen Novalance
HP: 75/75
Status: Normal
His eyes darted to Mari, seeing another window:
Marilene Novalance
HP: 50/50
Status: Normal
And finally, above Landre:
Landre Novalance
HP: 45/45
Status: Normal
"What..." Vel muttered, his voice barely a whisper. The interface was crystal clear - just like a game status window, but overlaid on reality itself.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the strange sight would vanish. When he opened them again, the windows remained, gently bobbing above each family member's head. The numbers glowed a reassuring green.
Vel's heart raced at the sight. Each neat row of numbers and text felt like a mockery of the genuine concern in their eyes. These weren't game characters - they were his family. Real people with real feelings, not lines of code to be measured and quantified.
"Go away..." he whispered, his fingers curling into the blanket.
He clenched his eyelids shut. A gentle chime rang through his thoughts, and the hovering windows disappeared in a flash. Vel started at how readily they'd obeyed his mental command. His family shared concerned looks as he acted so oddly.
"How... how long have I been sleeping?"
Mari's hand trembled as she smoothed his hair. "A week..."
"We thought you were..." Landre's voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence. She turned away, her shoulders tense.
The weight of their fear pressed against Vel's chest. A whole week of uncertainty, of watching and waiting, wondering if he'd ever wake up. No wonder they looked so exhausted, so changed.
"A week?" Vel's voice cracked. "What happened after? Sis? To Trinon? How did you find us?"
Von's jaw tightened as he settled into the backward chair beside the bed. Landre and Mari remained silent, their expressions shadowed.
"That morning," Von began, his voice low and controlled, "I returned to camp after failing to find Landre. Your mother was in a panic - said you'd disappeared somewhere."
Mari's hands twisted in her apron.
"We asked around the refugee camp. The Seer told us what happened. About the amulet. About the symbol."
Vel's hand instinctively reached for his chest where Trinon's blade had struck.
"We found the symbol, followed it." Von's lips curved into a ghost of a smile. "I used to be a tracker, you know. It wasn't hard to find you, but..." His voice trailed off, the memory clearly painful. "The scene we found..."
Von's shoulders hunched forward, his words dying in his throat. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken horrors.
Mari placed a gentle hand on Von's shoulder. "What matters is both Landre and Vel are okay now." Her voice trembled slightly. "Trinon is gone for good."
Landre flinched at the name, turning away from them all to stare out the window.
Vel's mind raced, piecing together fragments of that harrowing night. He looked at Von, his voice steady despite the unease bubbling beneath the surface. "What happened to the other person? The acolyte who led you outside of Elnor?"
Von's gaze hardened, his brow furrowing as he leaned back slightly. "They disappeared," he admitted after a moment's pause. His tone carried a weight that Vel hadn't heard before, like the words themselves were reluctant to leave his mouth. "They pointed me where to look—or rather, where not to look—and then vanished without a word."
The room seemed to grow colder as Von continued, his voice low and deliberate. "I think... they wanted to lead me away from the Ossuary. To buy time for... whatever they needed with Landre."
Von's eyes flicked toward Landre briefly, and Vel caught the subtle tension in his father's jaw. The heavy air between them was palpable. Landre flinched ever so slightly under Von's gaze, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of the table as if trying to ground herself.
Vel broke the silence, speaking slowly as if testing each word before releasing it into the room. "They were working together... Trinon wasn't alone."
Von's head snapped toward Vel at those words, and for a fleeting moment, Vel thought he saw something dark flicker across his father's face—frustration? Anger? Concern? Whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"We know," Von cut in firmly, folding his arms over his chest again. "An investigation has been held since that night." His voice carried an edge now, sharper than before but not directed at Vel.
Vel sat up straighter as Von went on. "It seems Trinon entered the Church under false pretenses—for his own agenda." There was a grim certainty in Von's tone that made Vel's stomach churn.
Landre inhaled sharply but said nothing.
Von exhaled through his nose, clearly suppressing some deeper frustration. "The Church denies any connection with him or his actions." He shook his head slightly. "Officially, they've washed their hands of him."
Mari shifted uncomfortably near Landre but stayed silent, her hand resting lightly on her daughter's arm for reassurance.
Vel stared at Von, absorbing every word while grappling with the implications.
Von's arms remained crossed, his voice dropping an octave as he continued, "But that's enough about that for now. What I want to know is..." He leaned closer, his brows drawing together like storm clouds. "...what were you thinking?"
Vel blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He opened his mouth to speak, but Von didn't give him the chance.
"Do you even understand how long a week is?" Von's voice was steady, yet it carried a weight that pressed down on Vel like a mountain. "You were out cold for seven days—seven! And why? Because you decided to run headfirst into danger without thinking."
Vel flinched at the words. His hands clenched the edge of the blanket as guilt gnawed at his insides. He tried to form an explanation, but Von's voice surged forward again.
"I get it—you were worried about Lan." His gaze flicked toward Landre briefly before snapping back to Vel. "But that doesn't excuse what you did. You didn't tell anyone where you were going; you didn't stop to think about what might happen if things went wrong."
Vel looked down at his lap, the sting of Von's words sinking deep. His throat felt tight, but he forced himself to respond.
"I... I couldn't just sit there," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the tension in the room. "Lan-neechan was in trouble... I had to do something."
Von let out a sharp breath through his nose, his jaw tightening as he stared at Vel. For a moment, it seemed like he might lash out further—but then something softened in his expression. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly.
"I would've done the same thing," he admitted grudgingly, his tone losing some of its edge. "If it had been me... I wouldn't have hesitated either."
Vel glanced up in surprise at those words.
Von shook his head, though, and fixed Vel with a hard stare. "But that doesn't make it any less stupid."
Von exhaled heavily, his stern gaze lingering on Vel before a faint, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there.
"From now on," Von said, his voice firm but carrying an undercurrent of warmth, "more sword practice. You hear me? And I will not go easy on you."
Vel blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He met his father's eyes and nodded quickly.
"Yes, Father."
Von reached out and ruffled Vel's hair with a roughness that carried affection beneath it. "Good. Now rest if you need it." His words were gruff, but the pride glinting in his eyes was unmistakable.
Mari moved closer, her presence soothing as always. She sat gently on the bed beside Vel, her lap just near the pillow where he had been resting moments before. With a soft smile that held no traces of reproach or disappointment, she gestured to him.
"Come now," she said softly, patting her lap in invitation.
Vel hesitated for only a second before shifting toward her. He laid his head down carefully against her lap, feeling the comforting weight of her hand brushing through his hair almost immediately. The aroma of spices lingered on her garments—reassuring and centering—and he released a sigh he hadn't known was trapped inside him.
The warmth of her touch and the rhythmic motion of her fingers stirred something deep within him—a feeling he hadn't known he missed so profoundly. It was as though time had rewound itself briefly to an age when worries didn't cling so tightly to him when safety was simply being close to his mother.
His body relaxed despite himself, muscles loosening from tension he'd been carrying without realizing it. Resting there on Mari's lap felt like slipping into a memory—a piece of comfort he'd forgotten amidst all the chaos that had consumed their lives.
Her voice hummed softly above him—a tune with no words but filled with gentle reassurance.
Vel's eyes opened to the ceiling before finding Landre at the table. From Mari's lap, where her soothing strokes through his hair anchored him, he noticed Landre's hands clasped tightly, her shoulders uncharacteristically tense.
Her expression wasn't one of calm or resolve. It was distant, strained. Her lips pressed into a thin line as though she were biting back words she couldn't voice. The faint tremble in her hands didn't escape Vel's notice either. It was subtle, like the fluttering of leaves in an unseen breeze, but it was there.
He studied her face, those warm, determined features now shadowed by something darker. Her eyes had lost their spark, her distant gaze fixed on nothing, lost in unspoken thoughts.
Vel's chest tightened at the sight. This wasn't the Lan-neechan he knew, the sister who always teased him about being careless or scolded him with affection hidden in her tone. Something inside her had cracked that night in the Ossuary.
Vel wanted to say something—to ask if she was okay—but no words came. What could he even say? His throat felt thick with guilt and frustration as his hands curled into fists against Mari's lap.
Mari's hand paused for a brief moment, her fingers still resting in Vel's hair. She followed his gaze, her soft hum fading as her eyes settled on Landre. A flicker of understanding passed across Mari's face—a quiet acknowledgment of the tension that had taken root in the room.
She leaned down slightly, her breath warm against Vel's ear as she whispered, "Your sister hasn't been the same since she came back." Her voice was gentle but tinged with something deeper—worry laced with a sadness that seemed to weigh heavily on her words.
Vel's breath hitched slightly at her tone, his chest tightening further as he kept his gaze on Landre.
"Whatever it was," Mari continued softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead with practiced ease, "it wasn't just about the injuries to her body. Something more... happened that night."
Vel turned his head just enough to catch the faint crease in Mari's brow as she spoke. Her expression remained calm and composed, but he could see the strain beneath it—the way her lips pressed together tightly for a fleeting moment before she spoke again.
"We need to give her time," Mari murmured, her voice barely above a whisper now. "And space." She exhaled softly through her nose, her free hand resting lightly on Vel's shoulder. "But we also need to keep an eye on her... to be there when she needs us."
Her hand resumed its gentle motion through Vel's hair, soothing and steady as ever. She glanced toward Landre again before lowering her voice further. "I think you can help us most with this, Vel."
Vel blinked at the words, tilting his head slightly to look up at Mari. Her gaze met his—steady and filled with an unspoken plea for understanding.
He swallowed hard and gave a small nod in response, though his heart felt heavy with the weight of it all.
Mari's fingers in his hair lulled him toward sleep, exhaustion sinking into his aching bones. His eyelids grew heavy as the room blurred, her humming becoming distant. His racing thoughts about Landre and the night's events turned sluggish.
Though he fought to stay awake and watch over his sister, the comfort of Mari's lap and gentle touch won out. His breathing slowed as he drifted off, the spiced scent of her dress the last thing he noticed before consciousness faded entirely.
[*]
Hunger pulled me from sleep, my eyes adjusting to unfamiliar surroundings. I pushed myself up, taking in the sparse room - an empty shelf, a desk with chairs, and a wilted plant drooping in the corner. Not exactly homey, but it was ours now.
My feet found the floor, and I noticed my shoes placed neatly by the bed. A small smile crossed my face. Either Mari or Lan-neechan must have tidied them while I slept.
The door creaked as I opened it to a sun-lit corridor. Through the window, I could hear the bustle of Elnor's streets below. Another room lay to my left, its door closed, while stairs descended to my right.
The aroma of cooking wafted up, making my stomach growl. "Mom?" I called out.
"Down here Vel, just in time for a meal," Mari's voice drifted up.
I followed the scent downstairs to find her stirring a steaming pot.
"There you are," she said without turning. "Wash your hand first and tell your sister meal is ready."
After rinsing my hands in the basin, I headed back upstairs toward Landre's room. My hand hovered over her door as I remembered her earlier withdrawn behavior, the trauma of what happened in the Ossuary still fresh. I paused, uncertain.
I raised my hand to knock on Landre's door. "Lan-neechan, can I come in?" Part of me was curious to see her room too.
Silence stretched between us.
The pause felt too long. As I lifted my hand to knock again, a small voice drifted from within. "Come in."
I pushed the door open. Her room mirrored the simplicity of mine - bare walls, minimal furniture. Landre sat on her bed, head turned toward the nearby window. One detail stood out like a wrong note in a familiar song - her book lay abandoned in the far corner, as if cast aside.
"Lunch is ready, Lan-neechan."
There it was again - that distant gaze, that hollowness behind her eyes. This wasn't the Landre I knew, the sister who'd light up talking about becoming a Saint, who'd spend hours copying passages from the church texts.
"Would you join us?"
"I'll be there in a bit... Thanks, Vel." Her voice barely carried across the room.
Words formed and died in my throat. What could I say? I still didn't know what truly happened in that dark place, and I feared asking would only deepen her wounds.
I gave her a small nod and closed the door.
Standing in the hallway, realization hit me like a physical blow. I recognized that empty stare - I'd seen it before, in people who'd lost their fire, their purpose. People who saw tomorrow not as hope but as another void to endure. That was Landre now.
If someone didn't anchor her soon, pull her back to herself... things could spiral into something far darker than fatigue or despair.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open again. "Hey, Lan-neechan..."
She didn't move, still staring out the window.
"You know, I was thinking..." I scratched my head, channeling my inner twelve-year-old. "Remember when you promised to teach me to read? The church probably has way better books than what we had in Oakhaven."
Her shoulders tensed slightly. A reaction, at least.
"Plus," I continued, "I heard they have these huge magic circles drawn on the floor. Would be cool if you could explain what they mean." I paused. "I mean, if you're not too busy being all grown-up and stuff."
"Vel..." Her voice carried a hint of annoyance.
"Come on, you can't expect your little brother to figure out all those fancy symbols by himself. I'll probably end up drawing something wrong and summon a demon or something."
That got her attention. She turned, a ghost of her old exasperation crossing her face. "Don't even joke about that."
"Well, then you better teach me properly." I grinned. "After lunch? Mom made that soup you like."
Landre's eyes flickered to her discarded book. "I... I'm not sure I should-"
"Please?" I channeled my best puppy-dog eyes. "I promise I'll be less annoying than usual. Maybe only ask five questions instead of ten."
A tiny crack appeared in her distant facade. "You? Less annoying?"
"Hey, I can try! Though no promises about the questions part."
The faintest smile tugged at her lips. "You're impossible."
"That's what little brothers are for, right?"
The ghost of a smile on her face felt like a hard-won victory. Not much, barely a twitch of her lips, but it was there. Progress.
I closed her door with deliberate gentleness. The click of the latch echoed in the quiet hallway as I leaned against the wall, letting out a long breath. My chest felt tight, a mix of relief and lingering worry.
Sure, I'd managed to pull her back for a moment, dangle something that used to light her up. But seeing Landre like this... it wasn't just about trauma from what Trinon did. This was deeper. The kind of wound that festers if left untreated.
I might have stopped Trinon, ended that immediate threat. But now? Now I was facing something far more insidious - Landre's own mind turning against her. No sword skills or admin privileges could help me fight this battle.
The stairs creaked under my feet as I headed down, Mari's cooking filling the air. At least food might help. Small steps. Had to start somewhere.
"Everything alright up there?" Mari called out.
"Yeah," I replied, trying to keep my voice light. "Lan-neechan's coming down soon."
Sunlight painted golden streaks across our dining table. The room smelled of broth and fresh bread as we sat for lunch. Landre faced me, sitting straighter now but still subdued. Mari hummed while serving our bowls, looking content even with Von away at guard duty.
I scooped up a spoonful of soup, the rich aroma making my stomach growl. A thought crossed my mind - what had I been eating while unconscious?
"Mom, how did I even eat these past few days?"
Mari paused her own eating, setting down her spoon. "Mostly broths and liquid foods. You were barely conscious, but we managed to get you to drink."
"Your father even brought home a healing potion," she added, pride tinging her voice. "It was expensive, but he managed to get one."
I blinked in surprise. "Healing potions are expensive?"
"The ingredients only come from inside portals," Mari explained, stirring her soup. "Not many adventurers venture in there anymore. The stable portals are guarded like gold mines now - need special permission and procedures just to enter."
That made sense. Back in the game, players would spam dungeons and portals, farming ingredients to craft or sell. But here, with real lives at stake, only the stable portals were viable sources. And without players' respawn mechanics, every expedition carried real risk for the NPC adventurers. No wonder they treated portal access like a precious resource.
I took another sip of soup, appreciating its warmth. The game's economy had seemed so simple when it was just numbers on a screen. But here, every healing potion represented someone risking their life in those portals. Von must have pulled some strings from his military days to get one.
The mention of portals seemed to stir something in Landre. She lowered her spoon, her eyes focusing on the table's surface.
"I was thinking..." Her voice came out soft but clear. "Maybe I could go fishing, like we used to back in Oakhaven. There's no reason to spend our money if we could catch our own. It would help with our... expenses."
Mari's hands stilled over her bowl as she studied Landre, something deep and contemplative in her gaze. The silence stretched for a moment before she nodded.
"That's a good idea," Mari said, turning to me with a gentle smile. "Maybe Vel could help you carry your stuff?"
I didn't hesitate. This was exactly what I needed - a chance to stay close to Landre, to keep an eye on her. "Of course! I can help."
"The river's just past the wall," I said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. "I've never been fishing before - could be fun! And I saw guards patrolling there yesterday, so it should be safe."
Mari nodded, gathering plates from the table. "Just stay where the guards can see you."
I watched Landre's face carefully, but she remained lost in thought, absently pushing the last bits of soup around her bowl.
We spent the next few minutes gathering supplies. Mari helped us find an old fishing rod tucked away in storage, along with some nets and a woven basket. The familiar motions seemed to steady Landre somewhat - her hands moving with purpose as she checked the fishing line and tested the rod's flexibility.
The afternoon sun warmed our backs as we set out. Landre walked slightly ahead, her steps measured and deliberate. We'd made it halfway to the river when she suddenly stopped.
"Wait." She turned to face me. "We forgot bait. It'll be hard to catch anything without it."
I adjusted the basket on my shoulder. "Should we head back?"
"The bazaar's closer," Landre said, already changing direction. "They should have what we need."
We made our way to the market, weaving through the usual afternoon crowd. Landre paused at a stall displaying various accessories - simple pendants, carved wooden beads, and woven bracelets. Her eyes lingered on the merchandise while her fingers touched her neck.
"Here." She pressed a few bronze coins into my palm. "Could you get the bait? I'll wait here."
She smiled - the most genuine expression I'd seen from her in days. It was so convincing, so much like her old self, that I didn't think twice about it.
"Sure, Lan-neechan! I'll be right back."
I jogged toward the bait stall, my mind racing to the rhythmic jingling of coins in my pocket. Landre's smile lingered in my thoughts. It was warm, disarming even. Maybe I was overthinking things earlier. She just wanted some time to herself—a bit of air to breathe, to relax. After everything that had happened, who could blame her?
The vendor's stand came into view—an assortment of goods laid out under a worn cloth canopy. Hooks glinted in the sunlight beside baskets filled with wriggling worms and other bait. The smell hit me first: earthy, slightly damp, and unmistakable.
"One basket of worms, please," I said as I placed the coins on the counter.
The vendor—a burly man with a weathered face—nodded and slid a small basket toward me without a word. Its contents squirmed and wriggled in chaotic motion, making my stomach churn slightly. Grabbing it quickly, I spun on my heel and started back toward where I'd left Landre.
When I reached the stall with the trinkets, my steps faltered. The spot where she'd stood was empty. My chest tightened as I glanced around the bustling marketplace, scanning for her familiar figure among the crowd.
Nothing.
I walked closer to the vendor selling charms, forcing my voice steady as I asked him, "Excuse me... The girl who was here earlier—did you see where she went?"
He barely glanced up from rearranging his wares before replying gruffly, "Left in a hurry not long after you did."
The words hit like a slap of cold water. My grip tightened around the basket handle as realization settled heavily on me.
Landre had tricked me.
She had her plan since the beginning. The realization hit me like a stone to the chest. Whatever path she'd decided on, she didn't want me to be part of it. That much was clear. My hands gripped the basket tighter, the faint squirming inside matching the unease crawling under my skin.
This is wrong. No, I'm your younger brother—Lan-neechan—I have the right to be worried. I have the right to stop you from doing something reckless, even if you don't want me to.