The dinner continued with that same effortless warmth, the local stories flowing just as naturally as the hot tea Ruby quietly refilled whenever anyone's ceramic cup neared empty. Theron spoke boisterously of rebuilding timber bridges washed away by the rowdy spring floods, of wrestling an incredibly angry wild boar that had somehow wandered directly into their backyard vegetable garden, and of the unfortunate afternoon Mira had attempted to teach a family of forest squirrels how to meticulously organise their winter acorns alphabetically.
"I was providing critical structural help," Mira insisted, her leaf-like wings fluttering in self-defense.
Theron gave a deeply serious nod. "The squirrels vehemently disagreed with your methods, sweetheart."
"They simply weren't listening to the system."
"They chased you up an oak tree, Mira."
"They chased everyone."
"They chased our poor provincial mail carrier," Theron added, deadpan.
Ruby smiled a sweet smile into her tea. "He still flatly won't walk through the orchard to deliver our parcels."
"He started aggressively throwing our letters from the front gate," Theron grumbled.
"It undeniably saves him trail time," Mira pointed out.
"It completely terrifies the local squirrels."
Mira looked genuinely, deeply thoughtful as she tapped her pencil against her notebook. "That actually explains a lot about why they intensely dislike his uniform."
Adrian found himself laughing out loud until genuine tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. It had been too long far, far too long since unforced laughter had come this easily to his lips. The crushing, silent burden of being the Mayor of Stonehollow had slowly but systematically taught his analytical mind to measure every single casual conversation against the towering stack of municipal responsibilities still waiting in the shadows of his desk. Every quiet, unstructured moment on the road became another exhausting opportunity to run the numbers about trade caravan agreements, perimeter town walls, guild re-allocations, or grim reports from distant border patrols.
But here, within the warm wooden walls of House Sylvaris, absolutely nobody expected anything from his title. He wasn't the Mayor trying to log budgets, and he wasn't the invincible hero who had slaughtered Warchief Valdrik's vanguard on the bloody fields. He was simply Adrian a weary traveller sharing a hot dinner with an eccentric family that had somehow made a safe, welcoming room for his soul without ever asking for a single thing in return on his ledger. The profound realization settled quietly, deeply, and permanently in his heart. He hadn't even fully realised until this moment exactly how much his mind had needed that peace.
Suddenly, Theron set his wooden spoon down onto the oak table with a burst of theatrical seriousness. "I've officially reached a definitive decision."
Ruby looked up from her bowl, completely unphased. "Should I be actively worried about the property values, dear?"
"Probably."
"I thought so."
The enormous elf stood up slowly to his full, towering height, folded his muscular, scarred arms tightly over his broad chest, and looked directly down at Adrian's face with all the majestic, unyielding dignity of an imperial king preparing to announce a formal declaration of war to the court. "Adrian."
Adrian swallowed another hot mouthful of the beef stew, maintaining a deadpan look. "Yes, Theron?"
"I have carefully and analytically observed your baseline appetite tonight, lad."
"I am suddenly very concerned about where this conversation is tracking."
"You should be deeply concerned, Mayor." Theron gave a single, solid nod of his head. "I hereby formally challenge you."
The cozy kitchen immediately fell into an absolute, breathless silence. Mira's blue eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated joy, Ruby quietly closed her eyes in secondary embarrassment, and Elena let out an exasperated sigh directly into her teacup. Near the crackling hearth fire, Oak the old hound opened one single eye to scan the room, before deciding the adults were being ridiculous and that this specific challenge wasn't worth sacrificing a perfectly comfortable nap for.
Adrian leaned his back slightly against his chair, a faint smirk forming on his lips. "A challenge to what, exactly?"
Theron's wide grin slowly and maliciously spread from ear to ear across his face. "A standard, traditional, time-honoured contest, lad."
"I was deeply, profoundly afraid you were going to say exactly that."
"The core rules of the board are remarkably simple," Theron explained, gesturing with a hand.
Ruby raised a single, warning finger from across the table. "His rules are never simple, Adrian. Don't trust the parameters."
Theron ignored her intervention completely, leaning over the oak table. "We each receive exactly one large, fresh, steaming loaf of Ruby's baked bread."
Mira immediately climbed onto her wooden stool, waving her arms. "I officially volunteer to judge the completion metrics!"
"No, you won't do any such thing, sweetheart," Ruby answered smoothly, reaching for the water pitcher.
"I already have custom scorecards prepared, Mama!"
Theron looked genuinely, deeply impressed by the report, his eyes widening. "You went and made actual scorecards for the dining room, Mira?"
"I made them yesterday afternoon, Dad."
"You knew I was going to issue a duel?"
Mira smiled a proud, knowing smile. "I know you, Dad. You're predictable."
Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers, desperately trying her absolute best not to laugh out loud at the madness of her household.
Theron looked right back toward Adrian's broad frame, extending one enormous, scarred hand completely across the dining table. "So... what do you have to say for yourself, Mayor Adrian? Do you accept the terms of the engagement?"
Adrian looked down at the offered, calloused hand waiting across the wood. Then he looked sideways at Elena's face. She slowly, deliberately shook her head from side to side. "Don't do it, Adrian. Protect your spine."
He looked over at Ruby's calm face. She smiled a kind, warm smile. "You don't have to engage his antics, Adrian. You can just eat your stew in peace."
He looked down at Mira's small form. The little elf girl was practically vibrating on her stool with a pure, electric excitement. "Please say yes, Adrian! Please!"
Finally, Adrian looked back up to meet Theron's challenging, friendly blue eyes. A slow, genuine, and cynical grin spread across his own face as he felt the old competitive baseline of his magic click into gear. "You're completely on, Theron."
Theron slapped the oak table so enthusiastically that every single pewter spoon jumped an inch into the air with a loud clatter. "HA!" He turned his head and pointed a triumphant finger directly toward Ruby's face. "I explicitly told you the lad would be fun, Ruby! He's got the real spirit!"
Ruby simply and beautifully smiled her understanding smile, her emerald eyes catching the warm lamplight. "I never for a single moment doubted it, dear."
Outside, the last light of day disappeared behind the emerald forest, while inside House Sylvaris, laughter once again filled every corner of the home. For just one evening, the worries of kingdoms, ancient theatres, and impossible mysteries remained beyond the walls. In their place was only good food, good company, and the promise of a completely unnecessary bread-eating contest—one that everyone secretly knew Theron had been planning since breakfast.
The challenge spread through the house with astonishing speed, not because anyone shouted, but because Mira suddenly disappeared. One moment she had been sitting beside Adrian, enthusiastically scribbling notes into yet another notebook; the next, she had vanished through the kitchen door with a speed that would have impressed most seasoned adventurers.
A heartbeat later, her voice echoed brightly from somewhere upstairs. "I FOUND THE SCORECARDS!"
Theron folded his massive arms proudly across his chest, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "I told you."
Ruby looked up from clearing the table, raising an eyebrow at him. "You encouraged this."
"I definitely encouraged it," Theron admitted without a shred of remorse.
"I know."
"It's healthy competition."
Ruby offered him a patient, knowing smile. "No."
"It's bread," Theron countered, as if that settled the matter. He paused, considering his defense for a brief moment before adding, "...Healthy bread competition."
Elena leaned back comfortably in her chair, cradling a steaming mug of tea and letting the warmth seep into her hands. "I'm not stopping this," she announced, thoroughly amused by the unfolding spectacle.
Ruby laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I wasn't expecting you to. I've learned that trying to stop Theron only makes him more determined."
Theron nodded once, looking thoroughly satisfied with his reputation. "That's true."
The conversation was cut short as Mira returned, practically hidden behind a small wooden box that was nearly half her size. She carefully hoisted it onto the table before lifting the lid with the breathless excitement of someone revealing an ancient, mythical treasure. Inside lay dozens of little wooden signs, each bearing beautifully painted numbers and words. Some displayed scores, others had names, and one simply read: GO BEAR!
Theron's eyes lit up as he pointed to it. "My favourite."
"I made one for Adrian too," Mira said proudly. She reached into the box and held it up with a flourish.
Written across the wood in bright letters was: SLIME POWER!
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the sign with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. "...I don't know whether I should feel encouraged or embarrassed."
"Encouraged," Mira insisted, handing it to him with complete, unwavering seriousness. "I spent a long time painting it."
Adrian softened, offering a small smile. "Then encouraged it is."
With the scorecards settled, Theron disappeared into the pantry. He returned moments later carrying two enormous, round loaves of freshly baked bread. Adrian's eyes widened, and he stared at the baked goods in disbelief.
"...Those aren't loaves," Adrian muttered.
"They are," Theron insisted, setting them down with a heavy thud.
"They're wheels."
"They're rustic."
"They're enormous."
"They're delicious."
Ruby looked at Adrian sympathetically, offering a gentle apology. "I made those this morning."
"They smell incredible," Adrian admitted, though he looked slightly intimidated.
"They're also very filling."
Theron looked almost offended, crossing his arms again. "Don't discourage him before we begin."
"I'm informing him," Ruby corrected smoothly.
"You've taken all the mystery away."
The two massive loaves were placed side by side in the dead centre of the table. For several long moments, a tense silence fell over the room. No one spoke. Theron slowly rolled his broad shoulders, preparing for battle, while Adrian stretched his neck almost absentmindedly, sizing up his opponent.
Mira scrambled up onto her chair to gain some height and dramatically cleared her throat. "As the official judge..."
"Unofficial," Ruby interjected gently.
Mira didn't miss a beat. "As the official unofficial judge... the First Annual..." She froze, frowning thoughtfully as a sudden realization hit her. She looked over at Theron. "...Actually, how many of these have there been?"
The enormous elf scratched at his beard, looking up at the ceiling as he calculated. "...Twenty-three."
Mira blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. "...Why did nobody tell me?"
"You were born halfway through them," Theron pointed out reasonably.
"Oh." Mira nodded, completely accepting the logic. "That explains it." She turned her attention back to the competitors, throwing her arms out wide. "The Twenty-Fourth Annual Bread Championship..."
Theron raised a single finger, adding with a grin, "...House Sylvaris Division... begins now!"
Mira dramatically rang a tiny brass bell.
Neither man moved. They remained perfectly still, locked in a fierce, unblinking stare-down across the table.
Theron broke the silence with a faux-polite smile. "Ladies first."
Adrian laughed, shaking his head. "I appreciate the offer."
"I wasn't talking to you," Theron smirked.
Before the elf could celebrate his joke, Ruby snatched a folded cloth napkin from the table and threw it at him. It struck him squarely on the forehead with a soft thwack.
Elena took a slow sip of her tea, completely deadpan. "You deserved that."
Theron rubbed his forehead, his smirk turning into a rueful grin. "I usually do."
The contest began. Theron calmly picked up his first slice, his movements slow and deliberate. He smeared a thick layer of butter over the crust, took one massive bite, and it was gone. Another slice followed immediately after. Gone. There was no hurry in his technique, no sudden panic; it was simply a display of relentless consistency.
Adrian decided to match the pace. The bread was still warm, the crust cracking softly beneath his fingers while the centre remained impossibly light and fluffy. Rich butter melted almost instantly into every bite, carrying the subtle sweetness of fresh cream across his tongue. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor.
"...Ruby," Adrian savouring the flavour.
She looked up from her seat, a curious expression on her face. "Yes?"
"This..." He took another bite, shaking his head in disbelief. "...might be the best bread I've ever eaten."
Ruby's face lit up, a warm smile gracing her features. "I'm glad."
Theron swallowed another slice without missing a beat, grunting in agreement. "It is." He then cut a sharp, warning glare toward Adrian. "Don't distract the baker."
"I'm complimenting her," Adrian replied defensively.
"You'll gain favour."
"I thought that was the point."
Theron paused, a deep frown carving into his forehead as he pondered the logic. "...Fair."
Several minutes passed, and conversation began to flow naturally around the table despite the ongoing food battle. Mira took her role incredibly seriously, standing on her chair to announce imaginary, highly inflated scores every thirty seconds. Beneath the table, Oak the hound wandered hopefully from chair to chair, his tail wagging softly as he searched for dropped crumbs. Elena quietly sipped her tea, a look of pure amusement dancing in her eyes at the increasingly ridiculous spectacle unfolding before her.
Then, something unexpected happened. Theron looked down, his eyebrows knitting together as he realized his loaf had become noticeably smaller. He glanced across the table and saw that Adrian's loaf had dwindled just as much. The giant elf blinked once, then twice, utterly bewildered.
"...Huh."
Adrian looked up, brushing a few stray crumbs from his chin. "What?"
"I thought..." Theron scratched at his thick beard, staring intently at the young man. "...you'd stop by now."
Adrian offered a casual shrug. "I like bread."
"So do I."
Another minute passed, and more slices rapidly disappeared. Theron slowly leaned forward, resting his heavy forearms on the table as he called out, "Ruby."
"Yes?"
"How much has he eaten?"
Ruby leaned over, looking thoughtfully between the two rapidly vanishing loaves. "...Almost exactly the same as you."
Theron looked genuinely impressed, the competitive fire in his eyes replacing his initial shock. "No one's done that before."
Adrian smiled. "I've been told I have an unusual appetite."
"You've been told correctly."
Sensing the mounting tension, Mira quickly held up two scorecards with a dramatic gasp.
BEAR – 10
SLIME – 10
"It's tied!" she squealed.
Theron pointed a massive finger toward Adrian, looking over at his wife. "I like him."
Ruby laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "I noticed."
Theron's expression grew thoughtful, and he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he studied Adrian's demeanor. "...Actually... That's interesting."
Adrian lowered another slice, just an inch from his mouth. "What is?"
"You aren't eating like a warrior."
"...I'm not?"
"No." Theron rested his elbows firmly on the table, leaning in closer. "You're eating like..." He searched for the right words, mapping Adrian's relaxed posture. "...your body keeps making room."
Adrian froze. He hadn't noticed it until Theron pointed it out, but his stomach wasn't full. Not even close. It wasn't that he wasn't eating enough; it was that his unique slime physiology was quietly adapting in the background. It was breaking the food down almost as quickly as he consumed it, seamlessly turning the sustenance into mana, energy, and healing reserves.
He looked down at the remaining half-loaf with a newfound sense of awe. "...That explains a lot."
Theron slowly smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I wondered."
Sensing the contest had served its purpose, Ruby reached out and gently rested her hand on Theron's forearm. "Enough."
The giant elf looked at the untouched half of his loaf, then at Adrian, and finally back down at Ruby's hand. After a long, quiet moment, he nodded. "Enough."
Adrian looked confused, lowering his hands. "...We're stopping?"
Theron smiled warmly, the competitive edge vanishing entirely. "This stopped being a contest. It became an observation." He reached across the table, offering Adrian an enormous, calloused hand.
Adrian reached out and shook it. The elf's grip was powerful, steady, and deeply respectful.
"I've met many strong people," Theron said, his voice softening into a rare moment of gravity. "...Very few understand their own bodies." He gave Adrian's hand one firm, encouraging squeeze before letting go. "You still have much to learn."
Adrian nodded, humbled. "I know."
Theron chuckled, leaning back. "And that's why you'll keep growing."
A comfortable, quiet stillness settled around the table. Mira gently erased the numbers from her chalkboard before scribbling something completely different with a look of fierce determination. She proudly held it up for the entire room to see:
EVERYONE WINS
Ruby smiled warmly, brushing a hand through her daughter's hair. "I think that's much better."
Theron looked at the sign, then at Adrian, and finally burst into a deep, genuine laugh that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. "You know..." He leaned back comfortably in his chair, folding his arms. "...I think you're going to fit in around here just fine."
Adrian looked around the table, his gaze lingering on each of them: Theron's booming warmth, Ruby's gentle maternal smile, Mira proudly displaying her makeshift sign, and Elena quietly smiling into her tea. For the first time since arriving in Verdant Reach, a profound realization washed over him. He wasn't simply a traveler passing through; he was making memories. The kind that stayed anchored in a person's soul long after the journey continued. And somehow, he had a distinct feeling this would not be the last time he sat at this table.
Dinner slowly came to an end, though no one seemed particularly eager to break the cozy spell and leave the table. Empty bowls had long since been cleared away, replaced by steaming mugs of fragrant herbal tea while the remnants of the evening's feast lay scattered across the polished oak surface. Crumbs from the fresh bread dotted the wooden plates, and the lingering echoes of laughter still hung in the air like the fading notes of a favorite song. Somewhere beside the hearth, Oak had rolled onto his back, snoring loudly enough that Mira insisted he was "dreaming about chasing very polite rabbits."
The conversation drifted naturally from one story to another, wandering without a specific purpose or destination. Theron proudly launched into the tale of the time he'd accidentally built an entire woodshed completely upside down because he had been too busy talking to Ruby to pay attention to the architectural plans.
Ruby politely interrupted, raising her tea mug. "It hadn't been an entire woodshed. It was only the roof," she corrected smoothly.
Theron nodded with complete gravity. "The roof is an important part."
"It certainly became important when it rained."
"I fixed it."
"Eventually."
"I fixed it," Theron insisted, puffing out his chest.
Ruby smiled softly into her tea. "You did."
Mira giggled, leaning across the table. "You also nailed your sleeve to the wall!"
Theron looked genuinely surprised, blinking down at his arm as if checking it for old wounds. "...Did I?"
"You did."
"...That explains why the hammer disappeared."
"It was still in your hand!" Mira cheered.
The giant elf stared thoughtfully into the middle distance, processing this decades-old information, before sighing with complete, peaceful acceptance. "I've had a fascinating life."
The table erupted into another round of warm, vibrant laughter.
Adrian found himself leaning comfortably back in his chair, his fingers wrapped around the soothing warmth of his mug. He simply listened. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd sat in a room where absolutely nothing was expected of him. There were no guild reports waiting for his signature, no bitter disputes between local merchants to mediate, no patrol schedules to organize, and no monsters threatening to breach the stone walls of Stonehollow. For one peaceful evening, he was allowed to just be a person. He hadn't realized how desperately he'd missed that feeling.
Eventually, Mira let out a massive yawn. It wasn't the polite, quiet sort of yawn children attempted to hide behind a hand; it was an all-encompassing, full-body stretch that made her arms flail until she nearly tipped backward off her chair.
Theron smiled knowingly, a soft chuckle escaping him. "There it is."
"I'm not tired," Mira protested immediately, her eyelids drooping heavily.
Ruby raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Mira."
"I'm only... resting my eyes."
"You were asleep halfway through that sentence."
"I was thinking."
"You were snoring."
"I think loudly."
Theron laughed loudly, slapping his knee. "I'll remember that one."
Ruby stood up, her chair scraping softly against the floor as she walked over and gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from Mira's face. "Come on, Curious Micky. Time for bed."
"I can still ask questions," Mira mumbled, her chin resting on her hand.
"You can ask exactly one more."
Mira's sleepy, unfocused eyes immediately turned toward Adrian. She remained quiet for a long moment, processing her final question with the utmost gravity before speaking. "If..." She yawned again, fighting a losing battle against sleep. "...If you could go anywhere in Eryndor... where would you go first?"
The room fell completely quiet, the ambient crackle of the fireplace suddenly taking center stage. Adrian hadn't expected the question. He looked down into the warm, amber tea swirling gently inside his mug, a quiet smile gracing his lips before he spoke.
"I don't know."
"You don't?" Mira whispered.
He shook his head slowly. "When I first arrived here..." His voice softened, carrying the weight of past hardships. "I was just trying to survive. I didn't have the luxury of time to think about seeing the world." He looked toward the window, where the pale moonlight now spilled gently across the outdoor orchard. "But now..." His smile widened just a fraction. "I think I'd like to see all of it."
Mira's eyes brightened with a sudden flash of wonder despite her obvious exhaustion. "Me too."
Ruby looked affectionately down at her daughter, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You still want to travel?"
Mira nodded so enthusiastically that she nearly lost her balance. "I want to see the ocean. I want to meet dwarves. I want to ride a griffin. I want to learn why mushrooms grow in circles. I want to—" Another immense yawn cut her off entirely.
Ruby smiled, scooping her up gently. "I know, sweetie. I know."
Mira looked toward Adrian, a spark of fierce determination lighting up her sleepy face. "When I'm older..." She smiled with complete, unshakable certainty. "...I'm going to explore everywhere."
Adrian returned the smile, his expression softening. "I believe you."
"No." She folded her thin arms across her chest with surprising confidence, narrowing her eyes. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
Their eyes met across the dimming room. For just a fleeting moment, the twelve-year-old aspiring explorer and the weary, burdened Mayor shared exactly the same dream: to see what lay hidden beyond the next horizon.
Before she could offer another stubborn protest, Theron stepped forward and gently lifted Mira into his powerful arms. The little elf instinctively curled into his chest, resting her head against his broad shoulder while fighting a losing battle against her heavy eyelids. "I wasn't sleeping," she mumbled into his shirt.
"No?" Theron asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"No."
"What colour are my eyes?"
She frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to focus. "...Blue..."
"They're green."
"...I knew that," she murmured, her voice trailing off.
Within seconds, her breathing evened out and she was completely asleep. Theron smiled down at her, his rugged face softening with the quiet, protective tenderness only a father could possess. "They grow too quickly," he whispered.
Ruby reached out, resting a gentle, comforting hand against his forearm. "They always do."
Without another word, the giant elf turned and quietly carried his sleeping daughter upstairs, his heavy footsteps impossibly light on the wooden steps.
The house grew noticeably quieter after that. The cheerful chaos of the evening settled into a peaceful silence, broken only by the occasional pop and crackle from the dying fireplace and Oak's contented snoring by the hearth. Elena had stepped outside onto the front porch, cradleing another warm mug of tea and leaving Adrian and Ruby alone in the softly lit kitchen.
Ruby stood at the sink, slowly washing the last of the dinner dishes. Adrian walked over and stood beside her. "You don't have to do those by yourself," he said softly.
Ruby smiled, keeping her eyes on her hands as she rinsed a plate. "I know."
"I can help."
"You've travelled for days, Adrian."
"I don't mind."
Stepping into a comfortable rhythm, Adrian took a clean cloth and began drying each wooden bowl, placing them neatly away into the cupboard while Ruby cleaned the table with practiced, efficient movements. The silence that stretched between them never felt awkward or forced. It felt deeply, profoundly peaceful.
Finally, Ruby broke the quiet, her voice gentle but perceptive. "You've been carrying something heavy, haven't you?"
Adrian's hands paused for just a heartbeat, a wooden plate held tightly in his grip.
Sensing his tension, she quickly added, "I'm not asking what it is."
He turned his head to look at her. She met his gaze with the exact same unconditional kindness she'd shown him since the moment he first walked through her front door.
"I only wanted you to know..." Ruby said, pausing to carefully fold the damp cloth she'd been using to wipe the table. "...that whatever it is, you don't have to carry it every single moment of your life. It is perfectly fine to let go every now and then."
Adrian remained silent, the weight of her words pressing against his chest.
Ruby smiled softly, her eyes drifting toward the glowing embers of the fireplace as she reminisced. "My grandmother used to tell me something when I was young. She'd say, 'Even the strongest tree rests when the wind becomes too heavy.'" She turned back to face him fully, her gaze steady. "Rest isn't weakness, Adrian. It's how we find the strength to keep walking."
The words settled deeply and quietly into his heart. In the stillness of the kitchen, his mind drifted. He thought of Stonehollow and the heavy mantle of being its Mayor. He thought of the Slime Echo waiting faithfully back home, of Grandma Lilly back on Earth, of the mysterious theatre, and of Velcrest. He thought of the folded, worn playbill still tucked safely away inside his travel bag.
For the very first time since his journey began, Adrian admitted something not out loud to Ruby, but entirely to himself. He was tired. He wasn't exhausted, and he certainly wasn't defeated. He was simply, deeply tired.
A genuine, unburdened smile finally crossed his face. "Thank you, Ruby."
Ruby nodded gently, a look of understanding in her eyes. "You don't need to explain anything to me."
"I know."
"And when you're ready..." She leaned forward and blew out one of the remaining kitchen candles, casting the room into a warm, amber twilight. "...this house will still be here."
Adrian looked around the cozy kitchen one last time. The comforting aroma of fresh, rustic bread still lingered in the air. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows across the floor. From upstairs, he could hear the faint, muffled sound of Theron laughing quietly at something Mira had apparently muttered in her sleep.
A home. It wasn't his not truly. Yet somehow, House Sylvaris already felt like a sanctuary, a place he would always find his way back to.
Outside, the silver moon climbed higher and higher above the ancient forests of Verdant Reach. And there, for the first time since meeting the impossible man in the impossible theatre, Adrian closed his eyes and slept without dreaming.