Leona's steps slowed as she descended the cobbled path leading to the Aeloria Library. Evening had begun to touch the sky, painting pale shades of orange between the drifting clouds. In her hand, she clutched a warm loaf of fresh bread, wrapped in a thin cloth that now carried the faint scent of butter and baked wheat.
From afar, the Aeloria Library tower stood tall and proud. Its ancient stone walls were adorned with creeping vines and moss, yet it remained elegant—harmoniously nestled within the natural surroundings. A few small birds perched on the upper window bars, chirping as if to welcome the peaceful dusk.
Beneath a wide tree beside the building, Clara and Liorin sat on a stone bench. Clara was gently rubbing her fingers, while Liorin seemed focused on a small note held between his hands.
Leona approached, lifting the bread. "Yo," she greeted brightly. "Got some fresh bread. Smells insanely good."
Clara looked up and smiled. "How was your walk?"
"The usual," Leona replied, handing her a loaf. "You've got that 'feed me bread' face."
Clara accepted it with a small nod. "Thanks."
Liorin glanced up briefly but said nothing. He simply nodded—acknowledging the quiet moment they shared.
"Today feels… unusually long," Clara murmured, her eyes distant.
Leona sat down beside them. "It does. But did you learn anything from the Grand Sorcerer?"
Clara looked ahead, her voice soft. "We need to go to the Northern Region."
Liorin drew a short breath. "A dangerous place."
Leona raised a brow. "The one with those flesh-eating creatures?"
"Ice Wyrms," Clara whispered. "That's their domain."
Leona pressed her lips together. "Interesting…"
Clara let out a bitter laugh. Though the world ahead of them brimmed with mystery and peril, that moment felt as if time itself had stilled.
As for the man who had been beaten in that narrow alley… only Leona held the secret. A mix of curiosity and sympathy stirred within her, and for some reason, she wasn't ready to speak of it—not yet.
Afterwards, they made their way back to the inn. Their footsteps echoed along the dimming streets of Aeloria, now bathed in the golden glow of twilight. Though the sun hadn't fully set, the shadows of stone buildings and quaint shops had already begun to stretch across the smooth cobbled roads. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and wood smoke from kitchens preparing for the evening meal.
Clara walked slowly, savoring the atmosphere of Aeloria. Her face was calm, but her eyes held countless unanswered questions. Beside her, Leona walked in silence, occasionally glancing around. Her hand still held the untouched bread.
They were nearly at the inn when Liorin suddenly stopped. His gaze had locked onto a narrow alley branching off from the main road, lined with flower pots and unlit glass lanterns.
"I think… I'll take a short walk," he said, his voice calm, his eyes still fixed on the alley.
Clara glanced at him. "Looking for inspiration?"
"Maybe," he replied with a faint smile. "Or maybe I just want to see Aeloria one last time… before we head somewhere far more… challenging."
Leona frowned slightly but said nothing. Clara simply nodded. "Alright. Be careful, Liorin. Don't stay out too long."
"Of course," he said, turning and heading toward the alley that had caught his attention.
Clara and Leona continued toward the inn at the end of the stone road. The building stood firm with aged wooden walls veined in moss and small windows left open to let in the evening light.
As they entered, the scent of wood and herbal tea greeted them. In the small lounge near the counter, a few other guests were chatting or reading.
"Well? Did you find what you were looking for?" asked a middle-aged woman with a firm but kind face from behind the counter's back door.
"Yes," Clara answered without hesitation.
"Good to hear!" Mak Inya replied with a soft smile before disappearing into the back.
Clara smiled faintly and headed upstairs to her room, while Leona paused at the wooden table near the window.
She sat down, unwrapped the bread, and took a slow bite. The loaf was still soft, with hints of butter and honey. But her thoughts weren't on the food. The weary face of the man in the alley — Ardan — drifted back into her mind. Leona inhaled deeply. She wasn't one to involve herself in strangers' affairs, especially not someone with a bad reputation. Yet there was something about Ardan that stirred her curiosity.
She lowered her gaze to the table's scarred surface, covered in scratches and cup marks. Her heart wrestled—was it wise to get involved? Or should she simply follow Clara and Liorin, focus on the mission, and let everything else go?
"Why the deep thoughts?" Clara's voice from the stairs pulled her from her reverie.
Leona turned. Clara stood at the top of the staircase, watching her curiously.
"It's nothing. Just thinking about how we're heading to a land full of giant people-eating worms," Leona replied with a small grin.
Clara sat across from her. "You scared?"
Leona was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah. But not the kind of fear that makes you run. It's more… the fear that we're not ready—and someone we care about might get hurt."
Clara lowered her gaze, gently clenching her fingers. "We all feel that. But I believe that as long as we don't turn back, we can face anything."
Leona studied her friend's face. Deep down, she knew Clara was trying to reassure herself too. They all carried heavy burdens—duty, hope, and endless questions.
"We leave at dawn?" Leona asked.
Clara nodded slowly. "Yes. Early morning. Before the sun rises."
Leona turned to the window, watching the sun dip behind Aeloria's spires. The orange hues had faded into a bluish purple—night was coming.
"Alright," Leona whispered. "Then tonight… let's rest well."
Clara smiled, then stood and returned to her room. Leona remained alone in the lounge, lost in thought. The half-eaten bread in her hand had lost all taste.
In that quiet moment, she made a decision. If tomorrow would carry them to the Northern Region and into danger unknown, then tonight—before everything changed—she would try to seek out something… or someone… who had stirred her heart for reasons she couldn't yet understand.
---
Liorin's footsteps echoed softly over the cooling stones of the evening path. From the outside, Aeloria seemed serene—glass lanterns lit one by one along the street, casting golden light against the stone walls adorned with intricate carvings. The city exuded calm, accompanied by the laughter of children running in distant alleys and the clatter of pans from kitchens preparing dinner.
Yet beneath that calm… something tugged at Liorin's instincts.
As he glanced toward the northern stretch of the main road—where the inner city met the western gate—he caught a fleeting figure slipping swiftly between buildings. The movement wasn't ordinary. Too careful. Too quiet.
Liorin narrowed his eyes. He didn't pursue hastily. Instead, he trailed from a distance, appearing as a casual traveler enjoying the evening. His left hand remained close to the strap of his small pouch—inside it, a protective charm stone lay hidden.
He stepped into a narrow alley between an old bookshop and an abandoned building. The space was dim, lit only by a flickering lantern on the wall, barely holding onto life.
No one was there.
Liorin stood silently, observing every shadow. Dust swirled, and dry leaves rustled softly at his feet. There was a faint sound of footsteps on the rooftop. He looked up, but no one was there. Only the twilight sky, growing darker by the moment.
He turned away, walking back toward the main street, his ears and magical senses fully alert. Around him, the Aeloria night market was beginning to come alive. Food vendors were lighting small cooking fires, the air filled with the aroma of mushroom soup and toasted bread. Street artists began displaying their work, and a musician played a soft stringed instrument while singing a folk song about dragons and falling stars.
Yet amidst the growing bustle, Liorin could feel it — that presence was still there. Watching.
He followed the sense to a nearby area near the Aeloria clock tower, an old structure that served as a landmark of the city. At the base of the tower was a small park. A few people sat on benches, enjoying the evening breeze. Liorin stood among them, posing as a tourist simply out for air. His eyes scanned the surroundings.
On one of the nearby rooftops, he spotted a figure moving — swift and light. Once again, too skilled to be an ordinary thief. Liorin frowned.
My instincts? Maybe I should return to the inn and get some rest for tomorrow's journey.
Liorin began heading toward the inn. But that intention was cut short when he heard the echo of a small skirmish from a quiet alley.
His heart wavered — should he check it out, or keep walking?
After a moment, he chose to investigate.
His steps were slow and cautious, making sure not to alert anyone nearby.
Peering through a gap in the weathered, moss-covered stone wall, he saw a girl with long pointed ears, a bow in hand, surrounded by a group of men who were clearly capable of using magic.
Shouts of fury erupted from the group, and one of them lunged at the elven girl with a long blade. She dodged the attack with graceful agility and began to move — a battle dance that would soon belong entirely to her.
As twilight gave way to night, the bright moon lit up the alley, revealing the elf girl's face more clearly — radiant and striking in Liorin's eyes.
He didn't know what exactly he was witnessing. But this encounter would soon become a fateful moment in their journey — though he had yet to realize it.