The lantern in the corner of the room flickered weakly, casting warm, uneven light across the wooden walls. The inn was quiet at this hour; only the muffled chatter of a few late drinkers downstairs reached them, along with the occasional creak of the building settling. A draft slipped in through the imperfectly shut window, making the flame tremble.
Sela sat cross-legged at the little table by the window, sleeves rolled up, sorting a pile of coins into neat stacks. Her lips moved faintly, counting under her breath. Every so often, she'd pause to double-check a stack, her brows drawn tight in concentration.
Rael lounged nearby, leaning back on the rear legs of a chair like it was a challenge to see how far he could tilt before falling. He wasn't watching her work so much as watching for opportunities to interrupt her.
Nadia lay sprawled across one of the two beds, head resting on her arm as she stared at the ceiling. She had been quiet for a long time, but her eyes weren't unfocused — she was clearly thinking about something.
Rael leaned forward suddenly, balancing on two legs again.
"So… how much we got left?"
Without looking up, Sela muttered, "Hold on, I'm still—"
"Just give me a number."
She sighed through her nose, counted a few more coins, and said, "About sixty-five gold."
Rael's mouth fell open. He slapped his forehead dramatically. "Sixty-five? No way. I swear we had way more than that."
From the bed, Nadia rolled her head just enough to glance at him. "We did. Until you wasted it on that sword. A sword you can't even use because you have no idea how to handle one."
Rael straightened defensively. "Hey, the sword looks cool. And it's got a name. A cool name. Fire Weaver. Tell me that's not awesome."
Sela finally looked up from the coins, her expression flat. "They name weapons like that so they seem rarer than they actually are. You paid for the name, not the blade."
"Translation," Nadia said, "you got scammed."
Rael scoffed and folded his arms. "You two are just jealous."
Sela groaned softly and pressed her fingers against her temple.
"You good?" Rael asked.
"Yeah. Just headaches."
Rael tilted his head, smirking. "Is it that time of the—"
Sela's eyes narrowed. "Finish that sentence and I will punch you."
He held his hands up. "Right. My bad." After a pause: "So… you good?"
"Yes, Rael. I'm fine."
For a while, the room was quiet save for the faint click of coins and the muffled clink of mugs downstairs. Nadia's gaze returned to the ceiling, but eventually she spoke again, her voice quieter than before.
"…Sorry to ruin the mood, but… do you think Lif is coming back? Ever?"
The question lingered in the air, heavy enough that even the wind outside seemed to still. Sela's hands froze mid-count. Rael stopped rocking his chair. Both of them avoided looking at Nadia.
Nadia glanced between them, seeing their faces shift. She opened her mouth to continue, then closed it, biting her lip instead.
Sela spoke first, her voice steady but softer than usual. "Of course he will. He's too stubborn to die."
Rael exhaled slowly. "Maybe he's just on a date with Liora—"
The sharp smack of Sela's fist to his ribs cut him off. "Don't. Say. That."
Rael doubled over slightly. "Ow! Since when did you get so strong?"
Nadia giggled quietly, covering her mouth.
"You're both against me tonight," Rael muttered.
"You make it easy," Sela replied, returning to her coins.
They drifted into lighter conversation again. Rael complained about the stew they'd had for dinner being "more water than flavor." Sela reminded him they couldn't afford anything better right now. He suggested they splurge on at least one night's feast. She shot that idea down before he could finish the sentence. Nadia remained mostly quiet, though she smiled faintly when Rael tried to balance a spoon on his nose and failed miserably.
At one point, Rael tried to toss a coin into Sela's stacks from across the room — it bounced off the table and landed under the bed. Nadia snorted, and Sela didn't even look up.
The hours slipped by. The lantern burned lower, the flame shrinking. Outside, the wind eased, and the noise from the tavern below died to nothing. But even as they talked about mundane things — about the road ahead, about whether the next town would have hot baths, about Rael's ridiculous theory that all the world's chickens were secretly plotting — the name Nadia had spoken still sat in the room like an uninvited guest.
Lif wasn't there. And none of them really knew if he would be again.