They left the pub just as the last of the sun was dipping behind the rooftops. They made their way back to the inn. They were only a few houses away when they noticed someone approaching from the other side.
It was a young man, no older than eighteen, pushing a wooden wheelchair. His mother was in a wheelchair, wrapped in a shawl. Her body looked frail, but there was a lightness to her. As they moved slowly along the path, she suddenly raised her arm and pointed at something off to the side — a crooked sign hanging from an old blacksmith's shop.
She said something. Amukelo couldn't hear it from the distance. But her voice carried a laugh with it.
The son looked where she pointed, blinked for a second, then gave a small laugh of his own.
Amukelo stopped walking.
Pao, who had been speaking about something just a moment before, took another step before she noticed he'd halted. She turned back to him, confused. "What happened?"
But he didn't answer.
He just stood there, eyes fixed on the mother and son as they passed. It reminded him of the times when he put on a smile for his mother when she was sick.
Pao followed his gaze and looked at the pair. The son was pushing the wheelchair again, his head lowered slightly after the laugh. He tried to smile again when his mother looked up at him, but Pao could see it now too.
There was pain in his face. And when she looked away, his lips dropped, just slightly.
Amukelo was still staring. His lips pressed together tightly. His jaw clenched.
And then, a single tear reached the corner of his eye. He wiped it away with an open palm. He took a deeper breath, and finally spoke. "You know, Pao…"
She turned to him, watching his face carefully. "Yeah?"
He looked ahead again into the road. "Remember when I said that I don't care that much about my goal anymore?"
Pao nodded, slow and quiet.
"It was a lie," he said. "Yes, I like traveling with you. I enjoy your company. I've been happy with you all. Really happy. But…"
He took another breath.
"I still want to honor the goal I had when my mother was alive. I still want people to know how good of a mother she was. That she gave everything for me. And if I abandoned that, it would feel like abandoning the part of me that she knew."
Pao looked at him, her eyes softening. "Amu…"
He turned to her now. His eyes were damp.
"Pao…" he said, then paused, searching for the right words. "Will you help me get there?"
She blinked. Her breath caught, just slightly.
He looked down at the ground. "I… I know it's selfish. I know you've already done so much for me. But I promise… in return, I'll do whatever you want from me. I'll pay you back. Somehow."
For a moment, she didn't say anything.
Then she stepped closer. Her voice came low and firm. "No, Amu. You don't have to pay me back."
He looked up.
"And of course," she said, smiling gently, "I'll help you."
Her hand found his, fingers curling softly around his. "You helped me make things right with my father. You protected me more times than I can count."
She took a breath, and her cheeks colored slightly.
"We help each other. That's what we do. And if this is your wish…" she looked down, then smiled, "I'll do whatever I can."
Amukelo didn't speak at first. He just looked at her. Then he added soft and quiet. "Thank you."
And then, they made their way back to the inn. As they entered the inn's main hall, they saw Idin and Bao sitting at a table near the fireplace, eating a late meal. Idin spotted them. He lifted a hand and called out, "Hey! Come here."
They sat down at the table across from Idin and Bao. Idin leaned forward slightly. "We've been discussing the investigation," he said. "Trying to brainstorm every suspect we could think of. Go over what we know."
Amukelo asked. "And?"
Idin shrugged. "It's hard to say. We can't even be sure whether Shio is really behind all this. Could be someone else entirely. Or these might be nothing more than a string of unlucky coincidences."
Amukelo frowned. "So? Did you think of someone?"
"Well," Idin said, rubbing his forehead, "we figured it has to be someone connected to people who knew about the road — either the documents, the plan, or who was involved with the original construction."
He glanced at Bao, who nodded slightly.
"So that leaves a lot of options. Could be one of the soldiers — someone who had access to whatever information Rhan kept. Could be Talan's friend. Or maybe even someone working in Eland's mansion. A servant, maybe. It's all just speculation, nothing solid."
Then Bao tilted her head slightly and looked at Pao. "Well," she said, "aside from that boring case, what have you two been doing all day?"
Her eyes narrowed just a bit. "No one's seen you since Amukelo swapped shifts with Bral."
Pao blinked once. Amukelo looked at her, and she looked at him — then they both looked away at almost the same time, and a tiny smile crept across Amukelo's face.
"Well," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "I, uh… I started training my mana."
He gestured lightly toward Pao. "And Pao's my teacher."
Bao raised her brows. "Mana, you say?"
Pao gave a small nod, and grinned proudly. "Yeah. I always wanted Amu to learn it."
She turned her eyes toward Amukelo with a gleam. "Can you imagine how cool that would be?"
Bao tilted her head. "I don't need to imagine. That's pretty much what Bral's been doing."
Pao paused for a second, then gave a little sigh. "Well… I guess… but come on — how cool would Amu be?"
Her voice lingered on his name in a way that made it sound far more affectionate than usual.
Amukelo let out an awkward laugh and looked down at the table. "You're saying it like I've already mastered it."
"You will," Pao said quickly.
Idin burst out laughing. He leaned back in his chair. "I can't—this is adorable," he said between breaths. "You two are like high school lovers."
Pao's eyes widened, her face flushing almost immediately. "Wha—!?"
Amukelo looked confused. "High school?"
Idin caught his breath, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, school. But for further development. It's where nobles send their kids to prep them for politics and high-end education. But, let's be honest, it's just where young idiots pretend they know everything and get into awkward romances. Usually till the age of eighteen."
Amukelo didn't blink. "I was fighting monsters in the wilderness for my high school, then."
Idin laughed again,. "Hey, don't worry — you probably learned more practical skills that way."