The alley was quieter than the main street, the noise of carts and vendors fading to a muffled backdrop.
The air clung heavy with last night's rain, dampness curling against skin and clothes. A thin rivulet slid along the path, carrying the faint tang of moss and old dust.
Somewhere ahead, water fell in slow rhythm, each drop dripping to the floor with a faint, hollow note.
Arven walked beside Lila at an unhurried pace, his boots making soft scuffs against the uneven cobbles.
Skele padded at his other side, claws clicking a light rhythm. The skeletal tailbone swayed lazily, the faint blue glow in his sockets fixed straight ahead.
Overhead, a sliver of sky peeked between crooked rooftops, pale morning light catching the damp edges of shingles.
The further they went, the rougher the houses became—walls patched with whatever wood could be scavenged, shutters hanging by single hinges. Paint peeled in ragged curls, revealing grey boards beneath.
But the mood wasn't bleak.
Barefoot children dashed between doorways, their laughter bouncing down the alley like thrown pebbles.
A pair of girls shared a stolen loaf, breaking off pieces and grinning through crumbs.
One boy, Milo, was kicking around a scuffed leather ball, each thump sending echoes up the stone walls.
Lila angled toward him with an easy smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hey, Milo! Have you seen Happy and Joy?" she asked.
"They didn't come to the hood today. Probably still asleep," Milo said. He swung his leg, sending the ball rolling toward Arven.
Arven barely registered the motion before Lila blurred forward.
Her boot tapped the ball up into her hands in one smooth move, and both she and the ball vanished behind the shadow of a doorway.
"Sorry, sis! Give it back, please!" Milo called, spinning in place.
A soft giggle slipped out from somewhere close, muffled but bright. The ball didn't reappear.
Skele's skull tilted toward the sound, sockets glowing a shade brighter. A low, dry click rattled from his throat—his version of a chuckle.
Arven gave him a look. "Don't encourage her."
He moved to a shaded patch of wall and sat down, leaning his back against the cool stone.
Skele flopped beside him with the boneless ease of a creature who had no bones to relax, ribs lifting and falling in a lazy rhythm.
From a pouch at his belt, Arven took a handful of seeds and nuts, scattering them over the cobbles.
The small clatter drew Skele's gaze for all of two seconds before he leaned forward to sniff them.
The faint scrape of bone on stone was followed by an unimpressed snort; he nudged a seed away with his nose and decided it wasn't worth chewing on.
Wings fluttered in the air above as the first sparrow swooped down, hopping forward with short, jerky movements.
Another followed, then two more, until a loose ring of birds pecked cautiously at the offerings. Their claws clicked against the stone in a counterpoint to Skele's breathing.
The skeleton dog stayed perfectly still, only the twitch of his tailbone betraying the urge to lunge.
Milo, still trying to spot Lila, froze mid-step at the sight—Arven feeding birds like some back-alley noble while a skeleton dog lounged beside him as if guarding the king's treasury.
* * *
Eventually, Milo slumped against a wall, arms draped over his knees, panting from his failed search. His hair stuck damply to his forehead, and a faint sheen of sweat caught the morning light.
Arven stayed seated in the shade, eyes half-lidded as though he were somewhere between thinking and napping.
Skele rested his chin on his forelegs, the faint glow in his sockets dimmed to an idle ember.
The only sound was the soft pecking of birds, their wings giving quick bursts of air whenever one hopped closer to claim a seed.
Then came the sound of feet—light, quick, and uncoordinated.
Two figures rounded the corner in a burst of motion.
A boy barreled ahead, his shirt half-tucked and hair sticking out in wild angles, a crooked grin plastered on his face.
A girl followed close behind, her steps longer but less reckless, hands out as though she might grab him by the collar.
"Finally woke up? Sleepyheads," Milo called, pushing himself to stand. "Help me catch big sis like usual!"
"Come back, Happy!" the girl shouted.
"Happy to the rescue!" the boy yelled back, his voice breaking in the middle from excitement.
But instead of aiming for Milo, he veered without warning—straight toward Arven.
Skele's head lifted in an instant. The sockets glowed brighter, the way a cat's eyes catch sunlight, and his bony tail lifted high like a warning flag.
He didn't move, but the shift in his posture was enough to make the approaching boy hesitate for half a heartbeat.
It didn't last.
Happy darted in, snatching a fistful of nuts from the ground with a speed that would've done a street thief proud.
Without breaking stride, he spun on his heel and lashed out with a kick aimed at thin air.
There was a muffled "Urgh…" from nowhere in particular.
A heartbeat later, the missing ball shimmered into sight, flying toward Milo in a smooth, perfect arc.
Milo caught it with both hands, his grin stretching wide.
"Ha! Got it!" he yelled, immediately bolting down the alley as if afraid the ball might vanish again.
Skele's skull tracked the ball's flight, his tailbone flicking once.
A single dry click of his jaws followed—a sound that landed somewhere between mock annoyance and grudging approval—before he lowered his head again.
* * *
The girl finally caught up, her breathing quick but controlled.
She stopped a few steps short of Arven, one hand lingering near her brother's shoulder even though he'd already crouched beside Skele.
Her eyes flicked to the skeleton dog, then back to Arven, then to the dog again.
"Sorry… big brother," she said at last, her voice small but steady. "He's… energetic."
Skele, apparently unbothered by the intrusion, leaned forward to sniff the air around her. The faint blue light in his eyes softened, his posture relaxing.
She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers before she squared her shoulders.
"My name is Joy. That's my younger brother, Happy."
Arven inclined his head slightly. "Hello, Happy. Hello, Joy."
Happy, who had been peering into Skele's hollow skull like he expected to find treasure inside, grinned.
"You're weird… but cool. And bony."
The corner of Arven's mouth twitched upward.
Skele let out a short click in response, a sound like he'd just accepted a royal compliment.
As Joy straightened and Happy crouched beside Skele, Arven found his gaze lingering on the two of them longer than politeness required.
He remembered them.
* * *
In Runebound Online, they'd been background characters in the truest sense—just two bright-eyed NPC kids tucked away in one of Windrest's back alleys.
They never swung a weapon, never sold anything rare, never dropped a quest chain worth bragging about on the forums.
Their "quests" were harmless fluff—bring them a handful of nuts from the market, chase them around for a quick game of tag, or listen to them chatter about the neighborhood.
The reward was always the same: a few copper coins pressed into your palm as if they were offering gold.
It never made sense. Slum kids handing out coins to adventurers? Classic weird dev writing.
But no one complained—free coins were free coins.
Arven could still remember the way they'd been animated in-game—always standing just a little too close together, heads tilting in perfect sync whenever you approached, smiling the stiff smile of NPCs who didn't know anything outside their scripted lines.
Then one day, those little daily quests just… stopped appearing.
The siblings were gone.
No goodbye scene, no missing-person notice—just a pair of empty spots in the alley where they'd always been.
Players barely noticed. There were hundreds of NPCs to talk to, and losing two minor ones didn't make a dent.
Except for a stubborn handful of lore-obsessed players who kept posting screenshots from before the disappearance.
I miss the cheerful pair, one thread title had read.
They made the slums feel less empty, said another.
There are few player in the forum often pop up every few months to nudge the conversation back to life.
Back then, Arven had rolled his eyes at them.
"You're all sentimental," he'd muttered more than once.
They were just code. Replaceable, forgettable.
He knew better now.
The real reason for their disappearance hadn't been a lazy dev cut—it had been an event hidden behind the Bandit King's revenge arc.
In the game, you never saw it.
No cutscene, no quest update. Just the absence.
But here, in the flesh-and-blood version of this world, he knew exactly how it ended.
He could still picture it: the narrow street at night, the way bodies could be tossed into a wagon without a sound if you timed it between the passing of the watch.
His jaw tightened.
Happy laughed at something Skele did.
Joy's smile softened—rare, but real.
Arven's jaw eased, but his gaze stayed
on them.
In the game, they'd just… vanished.
~
Not here. Not now.
He felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
Try me, fate. The story's already off-script.
Let's see how far I can break it.