Anna and Vantias's faces were twisted—broken between fear and disbelief. Their gazes were fixed, their minds full. Hannibal, noticing their state, gave a knowing smile; a smile that seemed to gently break the heavy atmosphere.
With a warm and familiar tone, he said:
"Well... we better get to dinner. I've really missed my little sister's delicious cooking."
Anna stood up with a childish, teasing laugh:
"I cooked something I'm sure you'll be licking your fingers for!"
Hannibal and Vantias laughed—a genuine laugh—or at least for one of them.
But Vantias's smile soon faded. His eyes got caught in thoughts that wouldn't let him go. Sitting beside the table, he wore a forced smile, but his gaze kept drifting toward Hannibal; a look full of worry and respect.
In his heart, he whispered:
"Hannibal's dealing with dangerous things... despite all this darkness, he still stands strong. I deeply respect him."
Anna busied herself chopping herbs, and Hannibal laughed as he joined her. Simple, ordinary moments—but for Vantias, these moments were more than just normal. Watching the two of them took him on a journey within himself; deep into memories long buried by dust.
Memories where Hannibal was not just a brother, but a father, mother, guide, and teacher—a quiet pillar in helpless days.
And in his heart, he murmured:
"Maybe... just maybe... if I had a brother like him... I wouldn't have drowned so deeply in darkness."
"Bro, can you cut the meat?"
Anna's voice was soft but energetic; just like the smell of the cooking food filling the room.
Hannibal's voice, warm, pulled Vantias back from his thoughts:
"Where's your head at, Vanti? Come help!"
Vantias gave a faint smile, as if just waking from a dream.
"Ah, yeah... coming."
The three of them gathered amid cracked walls and the sound of rain tapping on the old roof. With empty hands but full hearts, they prepared the meal together in a silence broken only by the sound of knives and broken spoons.
About an hour later, the food was ready. A simple yet warm spread laid on the worn wooden table.
All three sat down on their chairs. They locked hands, closed their eyes, and in a silence born of faith, began to pray.
No one spoke. There was no need. Only the sound of rain and hearts that despite all the pain, still knew how to beat in gratitude.
But suddenly, the silence of that sacred moment was broken...
Tap! Tap! Tap!
A sharp, repeated sound of fists pounding on the wooden door from below—someone knocking urgently.
Hannibal immediately rose from the table and went toward the window. Anna looked at her brothers with a worried face. Vantias swiftly stood up and hurried out of the attic room, descended the stairs quickly, placed his hand on the handle, and opened the door with a mix of anger and concern.
Outside the door, under the rain, stood William—his clothes muddy, face tired and distressed, carrying something—or rather someone.
Vantias, surprised and slightly harsh, said:
"William? What are you doing here at this hour?"
William cast a shameful glance at the ground, his voice soft and heavy:
"Can I come in? ... I'll explain everything later."
Vantias paused. There was something in William's eyes—a mix of shame and anxiety. He nodded slightly in consent and opened the door.
William struggled inside and laid down a half-unconscious body on the floor. The flickering lamp light revealed a wounded and bloodied face.
It was Dagrol.
Vantias widened his eyes, looked worried, and bent down:
"My God... what happened?!"
But before he could hear an answer, the downstairs door slammed open violently.
Mrs. Margaret, hair disheveled and cane in hand, appeared with a flushed face, shouting:
"What's going on at this hour?! Don't you young people ever sleep? You nearly gave this old woman a stroke!"
Vantias, with William's help, lifted Dagrol with difficulty. He was panting but spoke calmly to Mrs. Margaret:
"Sorry, Mrs. Margaret... it's nothing, you can go back to sleep. I'll explain later. Good night."
Margaret grumbled in her usual tone:
"They don't pay rent, and now they're even stealing my sleep..."
Then she shut her door with a clack.
Vantias went upstairs and opened the room door. Anna and Hannibal, upon seeing William's worried face and Dagrol's half-conscious body, exchanged looks of surprise and concern.
Anna quickly asked:
"William? What are you doing here at this hour? What happened?"
Vantias placed Dagrol on the bed. His face was bruised and battered, dried blood was visible under his nose, and one eye was swollen.
Hannibal frowned and asked:
"Who did this to him?"
William was silent for a few moments. His head was down, and his hands trembled slightly. Then, in a hoarse voice, he said:
"There was a fight... but not the kind with just fists flying. A fight... like someone was meant to be killed."
Everyone fell silent. The only sound was water dripping from the ceiling.
William sighed, as if holding something inside for a long time.
In a soft but sorrowful voice, he said:
"Since what happened to Gazel... Dagrol blames himself for his death. He keeps whispering: 'I killed him...'"
Anna, Hannibal, and Vantias's eyes simultaneously turned toward Dagrol, lying unconscious on the bed, breathing uneven and heavy.
Vantias stared in shock, thinking:
"I understand that feeling... when he threw the axe, he didn't want Gazel to die. But still... he blames himself. That feeling... eating away from the inside."
William continued:
"Lately, he's been wandering taverns day and night. Drowning himself in booze, drinking until he's barely conscious. Then he either talks to himself or picks fights with anyone in his way."
Anna looked at William worriedly.
"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything about his condition?"
William paused a little and said:
"I thought it would only last a few days... but it got worse every day. Today when I saw him, he got into a fight. The other guy thought Dagrol was bothering his wife, so he beat him as much as he could."
Then he took a deep breath, removed his wet clothes, and said:
"I wanted to take him to my place... but the rain got heavy. We couldn't stay outside. The only place that came to mind... was here."
Half an hour had passed. The discussions had calmed down, but the atmosphere was still heavy.
Vantias glanced at Anna and asked:
"Did you manage to visit Sylphy today? Talk to her?"
Anna sighed and shook her head.
"I went to her door... knocked a lot, but no answer. I left a basket of food by the door, but... yesterday's basket was still there, untouched. I don't know why, but I don't feel good about it... I'm worried."
Hannibal put his hand on his forehead and took a deep breath.
"This is serious trouble..."
At that moment, William remained silent, his head down, hands clenched on his knees.
Vantias noticed and gently, with a supportive tone, said:
"What about you? William... it seems there's something weighing on your heart. Want to talk?"
William paused a moment, then quietly sat on a chair. His eyes looked tired and empty.
Then he said softly:
"I want to retire, Vantias... I don't want to be an adventurer anymore."
All eyes turned to him.
William continued, with a voice that seemed to come from his very core:
"I'm tired... more than I thought. Gazel, Dagrol, Sylphy, everything... what we called adventure has now become pain, loss... fear. I'm sorry, but I can't go on anymore..."
Anna said nothing, only blinked softly. Vantias stared at the floor. Hannibal also remained silent; a silence of respect.
William gave a faint smile, more like a goodbye than happiness.
In a soft voice he said:
"I want to go back to my homeland...
.... the same little village where I was born.... A place that still smells of rain-soaked earth in my memory.... I want to teach children... teach them things I never had the chance to learn in this world..... A peaceful life... without blood, without danger."
A brief silence fell. Vantias only nodded his head gently several times. He put his hand on William's shoulder and said with understanding:
"I respect your decision, William... it's a choice anyone in your place would make..."
Hannibal just listened. Silent, but with eyes that understood the weight of decisions.
He said nothing—not out of indifference—but because he knew that at this moment, Anna and Vantias, as teammates, had the voice.
Anna took a deep breath. Her voice trembled slightly, but kindness flowed through it:
"I think so too, William... I didn't want to say it, but... for years being an adventurer has been my life. Every time I left the city gate, I never knew if I'd come back alive or not. Always danger, always death behind my ear."
She paused. Looked at the tired face of Dagrol, then turned back to William.
"But lately... I think I have a family. I want to be with Vantias and Hannibal, with people who matter to me. Maybe it's time... to live a different way."