The squelch of wet boots on muddy ground marked their return. Bogwater looked exactly as they had left it—dull, brown, damp—but after everything Levi had seen at Moat Cailin, there was a strange comfort in the stagnant swamp air. The mist still clung lazily to the tree roots like an old blanket, and the frogs sang their same sad songs.
Mae, on the other hand, did not look the same.
She stood at her door, arms folded, lips tighter than a miser's coin purse. The moment her eyes locked onto Jory, she unleashed.
"Do I look like a fool to you?" she snapped.
"No, Gran—"
"You disappear without a word, and I'm to sit here twiddling my fingers while the forest eats you both? Oh, I'm sure the wolves would've found your bones a fine treat!"
Jory shrank behind Levi. Levi considered running too, but where to? Into the bog?
"Mae, I can explain," Jory started, holding up his hands like she was holding a bow.
"Oh, you will. But not to me. To your mother. Now go!" Mae pointed toward the cluster of homes further down the muddy trail.
Jory opened his mouth like he was going to argue but wisely decided against it. He shot Levi a quick look that screamed, "I might not survive this." Then he jogged off, shoulders hunched.
Mae exhaled sharply and turned on Levi.
"And you," she said, quieter now. "I expect you to know better."
"I—I got lost?" Levi offered. "Sort of?"
"Try again."
Levi sighed. "We went to Moat Cailin."
Mae blinked. "You what?"
"We, uh… saw the ruins. There were people there. Guards. Important ones. I fell off a tower."
"You what?"
"I didn't die," Levi said quickly, raising both hands. "Though a small part of me kind of wanted to when I hit the floor."
Mae stared at him for a long moment, then let out a long sigh and turned back toward the house. "Get inside before I remember I have a ladle strong enough to tan you with."
Levi followed her in.
By the time Mae put a pot of stew on the fire, the tension in the air had mostly faded. She ladled out a thick bowl for him—stringy meat, roots, and the familiar grey-green broth that had become oddly comforting. Levi sat cross-legged near the fire, his mind still half in Moat Cailin.
He stirred the stew with a wooden spoon, watching it spin like a lazy whirlpool.
Mae sat nearby, knitting something lumpy and square-shaped. Her hands were practiced, her eyes occasionally flicking to him.
"You met people," she finally said. "Real folk. Nobles?"
Levi nodded. "A girl and a boy. Young. Probably siblings."
"And what did they say?"
"They asked who we were. Where we were from. They didn't hurt us or anything. Just… watched us."
Mae grunted. "Might've been Stark blood then. Some of 'em pass through that way when roads are clear enough. Still... you're lucky. Not all lords ask before swinging their swords."
"Yeah. I didn't feel lucky at the time." Levi tapped his spoon against the bowl's edge. "Do you think Moat Cailin could ever be rebuilt?"
Mae raised an eyebrow. "That pile of rocks? Maybe if the Old Gods themselves dragged it out of the mud."
"But if someone had the tools. The materials. The food and manpower."
She gave him a long, unreadable look. "Even with all the tools in the world, it'd still take a dreamer—and I've seen many of those drown in this swamp."
Levi chuckled nervously. "Well… maybe I'm just the right kind of fool."
She didn't reply right away. The fire popped between them.
"I don't know what kind of fool you are, Levi Hallow," she finally said. "But I reckon we'll find out soon enough."
That night, Levi lay awake again, the now-familiar straw mattress beneath him rustling with every fidget. The cheat engine—his secret, his salvation, or maybe his doom—still sat dormant. He hadn't opened it again since Moat Cailin. Not yet. He was afraid. Afraid it wouldn't work. Afraid it would.
Still, the idea burned inside his head like a lantern in the dark: food, gold, weapons, materials.
What if I could change everything?What if I could build something… better?
But then came the other thought.
What if I mess it all up?
He groaned and rolled over.
In his old life, he never finished anything. Every game, every plan, every ambition—abandoned halfway through, usually with snacks and sleep taking priority. But this was different. Wasn't it?
Maybe not.
Still, Mae's words stuck with him.
A dreamer in the swamp.
And for the first time since waking up in this damp, cold world, Levi started to wonder if he might actually want something more than survival.