After the attack at the restaurant, Kalderon and Eliora began coming every evening.
Not quietly.
Eliora claimed it was for Iremiel's safety.
Kalderon claimed it was because the food was cheap.
Neither explanation fooled anyone.
They always took the same corner table where the entire room was visible. Eliora spread a deck of cards across the wood while Kalderon leaned back like someone preparing for battle.
And every single time, Kalderon lost.
"Again," Eliora said, placing another card down.
Kalderon stared at her hand. "You're cheating."
"I'm better."
"You're cheating better."
Five minutes later he threw the cards on the table.
"I'm done."
Eliora leaned forward with a grin that was half victory, half insult.
"You're terrible at this game. Just accept that."
"I'm not losing," Kalderon said flatly. "You're cheating with your magic."
"weak man.," she teased. "You don't have the guts to lose properly so you will just accuse me for using magic.."
Kalderon glared.
Across the room, Iremiel wiped down a table and tried not to watch them.
It bothered him more than he expected at first.
They looked… normal. Laughing. Living their lives. While he moved from table to table carrying trays like a ghost in the background.
For a moment he felt something sharp twist in his chest.
Then they started arguing louder and he felt strangely relieved. At least they weren't having too much fun. Every evening ended the same way.
Eliora leaned across the table.
"So," she would say casually, "when are we going to find the tenth door?"
Kalderon never answered directly.
"Busy tomorrow."
"Training next week."
"Maybe later."
Excuses.
Always calm.
Always dismissive.
The map remained folded in Eliora's coat pocket. Days passed like this. Then one evening her patience finally snapped.
She didn't bring cards. She didn't order food.
She simply waited until Iremiel finished serving the last table and pointed to the chair across from her.
"Sit."
Something in her tone made both boys obey immediately. Kalderon folded his arms. Iremiel sat slowly. Eliora looked at them both.
"Do you actually want to find the tenth door with me?"
Silence fell between them. The restaurant noise felt distant.
Kalderon answered first.
"No."
Iremiel hesitated. Then he nodded.
"It's not like I don't want to but..."
Eliora stared at them as if they had said something unbelievable. Her chair scraped loudly as she stood.
"Fine."
Her voice was sharp.
"Then forget the door."
She grabbed her coat and walked out without looking back. Neither of them followed. She didn't come the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.
The nightmares began that same day. Every time Iremiel closed his eyes, he found himself standing on the northern mountains.
The wind screamed across endless white snow. Eliora was there. Her hands around his throat. Tight. Unforgiving.
"Why?" he tried to ask.
She didn't answer. She simply pushed him backward. And he fell. Down the endless cliff. Cold air tearing through his lungs. Every time he woke before hitting the ground.
Gasping. And shaking.
It happened again the next night. And the next. Soon he stopped sleeping entirely. His hands trembled when he carried plates. His vision blurred. He almost felt if Kalderon did caught him.
Kalderon noticed quickly.
"You look sick, are you okay.," he said one evening.
"I'm fine."
"You're lying."
Kalderon took the tray from his hands and pushed him toward a chair.
"Sit."
Iremiel protested weakly, but Kalderon ignored him and started serving the tables instead. For the first time since he started working, Iremiel watched someone else do his job.
Days dragged on. The nightmares grew worse. Every fall felt more real. Every scream louder.
Soon even staying awake didn't help.
He started seeing flashes of snow during the day. Hearing wind where there was none. By the end of the week he looked half-mad.
Then one evening the restaurant door opened again.
Eliora stepped inside. Both boys looked up immediately. She looked worse than Iremiel. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair slightly disheveled. Like someone who hadn't slept in days.
She walked straight to their table.
No greetings.
No apologies.
"I've been dreaming of something weird and it's getting worse day by day.," she said.
Iremiel's stomach dropped.
"The mountain," she continued quietly. "And you."
He stared at her.
"I see you falling," she said. "Every night."
Kalderon frowned.
"What?"
"I'm not in the dream like it's not me who is doing it.," she said, nodding toward Iremiel. "I'm watching it. Like a third person."
Her voice shook slightly.
"And every time I try to stop it… I fail."
Silence stretched across the table.