The morning songs of the birds in the distance gave life to the forest inside the suitcase — prompting Druvis, who was asleep, to wake up to it.
Lying on the soft bed while entangled in pristine white sheets, her figure was elegantly poised as her short ginger hair covered parts of her face as well as the sheets.
Her eyes then lightly fluttered open, revealing her soft green eyes under the soft rays of sunlight.
She took a moment to process everything before shifting her eyes to the windows. Yet again, and like it had always been, a light rain shower was present, painting the window's surface with delicate raindrops.
A moment later, she slowly stood up from her bed and looked around.
Once more, she had woken up in the bedroom of the cabin she had borrowed from her friend, Isaac. Since the owner of the cabin has stopped coming by lately, she was given permission by him to use it however she liked it since, as he reasoned, she was partly its owner since she helped build it with him.
She had to admit that she did like the cabin. It was simple, cozy, peaceful, and most importantly, close to nature — something she deeply preferred.
As for why she was sleeping on his head of all places, well that was because he barely used it. Moreover, she had already gotten comfortable in sleeping on it so she didn't bother sleeping somewhere else.
All in all, it was convenient.
"Hm..."
She then let out a soft hum before getting out of bed.
After cleaning up after herself and fixing the bed, she went down to see the cozy living room that was — until Isaac's return — hers.
Her eyes then glanced at the kitchen. She remembered that one morning Isaac had cooked there for breakfast, and how those delectable pancakes he creates always leave her wanting more.
It was undeniable to everyone in the suitcase that Isaac was a great cook. Coupled with the fact that he always takes the initiative to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner — he practically became everyone's favorite cook.
And so, it now felt odd for everyone that their playful and elusive friend had gone somewhat distant lately.
"You gave everyone a taste of your cooking then left..." She whispered to herself, a tinge of longing laced in her voice. "That's not fair..."
With that said, she soon walked in the kitchen and made her breakfast.
And after taking a bath and changing herself, she now once more sets out to do her tasks for today.
---
"As you can see, Ms. Druvis..."
The young agent sitting across from her fiddled with a file, his hands fidgeting nervously. He had deep bags under his eyes and a subtle tremor in his voice — signs of exhaustion more than fear.
Around them, others stood or sat in the dimly lit staff lounge: researchers, field operatives, clerks — all low-ranking personnel, all gathered quietly in the off-hours, all looking toward her for something they couldn't ask from the top.
"...it's been getting worse."
Druvis sat calmly with her legs crossed, the light from the overhead fixture casting soft glows on her pristine uniform. The edge of her clipboard tapped lightly against her knee. Her expression was unreadable, serene in its silence, but not cold.
The agent continued. "The higher-ups have been pressuring research divisions for results, field agents are being pulled from rest to go on missions again, and any mention of the word 'arcanist' is like walking on glass now. People are starting to pick sides. And those of us in the middle..."
He didn't need to finish.
Druvis sighed softly and lowered the clipboard.
"I see."
A simple statement. But the weight behind it made the room seem quieter.
She then stood up. The eyes of the room followed her, unsure of what she would say next. Druvis didn't give long speeches — that wasn't her way. But her presence alone was often enough to ease tension, if only slightly.
"I'll have a response prepared by tomorrow evening. You'll have a protocol to follow and a direct line in case things escalate. But for now..."
Her eyes drifted around the room. "Hold on just a little longer. Can I count on that?"
"Yes, Ms. Druvis."
"If it's you, I could put some trust."
"We can wait, Ms. Druvis. Thank you."
The nods that followed were hesitant but grateful. Some looked visibly relieved — as if simply having her listen was enough.
Druvis offered a gentle nod.
"Good."
With that said, she turned and left without another word, her coat trailing softly behind her.
---
Outside, the afternoon was cool and cloudy. A fine mist hung in the air, not quite rain but enough to fog up the glass panes along the corridor walkways. Druvis walked in silence, her thoughts layered.
'The cracks are showing faster than anticipated…' She mused. 'And if they fracture too soon, we'll lose more than just morale.'
She thought of her contacts.
Dozens — no, hundreds — of names. Agents, researchers, interns, field leaders. Each of them tied to her through subtle strings of mutual trust, owed favors, shared secrets, or quiet debts paid off in the dark.
Where Isaac had a web of backroom whispers and sharp-edged leverage, hers was a lattice — stable, careful, invisible unless you knew where to look.
She didn't want to do this work, if she was being honest. She much preferred to tend to her plants and be with nature than dealing with these political problems.
But, like Isaac, she too perceived the undercurrents swelling up under the Foundation — one so ugly and twisted that it could easily sweep away the arcanists who knew nothing about it.
So to protect not only herself but also the wish she promised to Vertin, she must do this.
---
Rounding the corner toward the open field of the Foundation, she took a moment to breathe in the open air of the central courtyard. She had intended to sit, perhaps even steal a moment of peace before the next meeting.
But then, in the middle of the cobblestone path — she saw him.
His hair slightly disheveled, suit jacket carried lazily over one shoulder, and a half-list in his gait like he was strolling through a summer town instead of a government institution.
It was Isaac.
...who was carrying what looked like a small box of files.
She blinked. 'Running errands?'
With that thought, she approached him and slightly raised her voice.
"...You've been demoted?" She called out, mildly amused.
Isaac paused, looked over, and, upon recognizing her, gave her that lopsided grin of his. "Correction, this is a voluntary demotion. I hear filing logistics builds character."
Druvis crossed her arms as she approached, raising a brow. "I thought you were too important to be seen doing menial labor? Regulus seems to think so."
"...I like to keep my public image unpredictable." He replied, gesturing vaguely with the box. "One moment I'm a terrifying political fox, the next I'm everyone's favorite mailman. Keeps morale high."
Druvis exhaled and smiled softly. "That's hard to believe."
"And yet, here I am."
Their gazes met briefly — something unspoken passing between them.
A mix of worry and warmth.
And the ever-growing weight of what was coming next.
She remained silent for a few moments before opening her mouth, taking the courage to ask him something she normally wouldn't do.
"Are you... free right now?"
Isaac glanced at the files he was holding briefly then back at Druvis. Then, he hid them away. "Yeah, I am. What's up?"
"..." Seeing him do what he just did, she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. "...no, I apologize. You're still busy it seems."
Isaac blinked once, then tilted his head with a soft exhale — more amused than annoyed.
"Druvis, I just saw a man cry over a jammed stapler and had to file his mission trauma report because his partner laughed at him. I think the world can wait a little."
He tucked the box of files under one arm like it was just another accessory to his coat. Then, with a casual shrug and that usual faint smirk, he added. "Besides, if you of all people are asking, I'd be an idiot to turn it down. What did you have in mind?"
Druvis looked away for a brief second, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"...Coffee. Or tea, if you like." She finally said. "I know a small place here. It's a quiet spot, but has a decent brew. It's not far."
There was a pause — not awkward, but expectant.
Isaac regarded her for a moment longer before smiling. A little more real this time.
"Fine by me. Lead the way, then."
"...alright."
And just like that, the two of them fell into step, their footsteps echoing lightly through the stone-lined corridor as the misty afternoon air clung gently around them.
Neither spoke for a while — not out of discomfort, but comfort. The kind of silence shared by people who didn't need to fill the space between them with anything unnecessary.
For a moment, the storm outside their lives felt... paused. And even if they both knew it was temporary, even if they both had unspoken thoughts waiting behind their eyes — they walked.
Together.
And that was enough for now.