Two days pass in a blur, time moving without truly leaving a trace.
We arrive in Quenstown beneath a sky dimming like dying embers. The houses stand tightly along the edge of the sea—closer than the village where I was raised. The sight makes my stomach tighten.
"The one you are looking for is Mr. Oliver, correct?" the driver asks.
Rose nods. "Yes. Is it far, sir?"
I frown and glance at her. "Have you forgotten where it is, Rose?"
"The last time I was here, I was still a child. All I remember are the hills, but we are still below them now. I do not know exactly where it is," she answers honestly.
The driver chuckles lightly. "Hahaha. So Oliver is your uncle, young lady? With all due respect, I am honored to take you to meet Mr. Oliver."
"Is he truly that famous? Why is that, sir?" Rose asks.
"Of course. He is a hero on this island. There is no one who does not know Mr. Oliver," he explains, pointing ahead. "Do you see that bar over there, lady?"
We turn. A lively building glows with warm light and loud voices.
"They are still celebrating even though it is already late, sir?" Rose asks.
"As I said, young master. That place is full of joy and honor. Besides…" he trails off as the carriage slows. "At last, we have arrived, lady and young master."
The carriage stops right in front of the crowded bar. Laughter, shouts, and the clinking of glasses blend into one.
Rose immediately takes out a pouch of gold. "I would feel ashamed if you refused this payment, sir. Please accept it."
The driver places a hand on his chest and bows respectfully. "The same goes for me, lady. I am sincerely honored to have taken you here. Please forgive me." He refuses politely.
Rose lowers her head. "Thank you for everything, sir."
"With humility, lady. Farewell!" The carriage turns and leaves.
I exhale slowly. This place feels alive—too alive.
"It does not feel real, does it? We finally made it," Rose says with a smile. "Let's go inside."
She walks ahead. As the door opens—
A wave of noise crashes into us. Loud laughter, drunken voices, clattering plates, and splashing drinks. Faces full of joy fill the room.
Rose approaches a man. "Where is Mr. Oliver?"
"Out back, lady."
"We are going to meet my uncle."
We head to the back. The atmosphere there is much quieter. Thin smoke drifts around a man sitting alone.
Rose stops.
"Uncle?"
The man turns slowly. He pauses, as if making sure what he sees is real.
"My lady…?"
He stands quickly and approaches.
HUG—
He embraces Rose tightly.
"It has been so long since I last saw you, Uncle," Rose says, returning the embrace.
Oliver laughs loudly. "Hehehm! I was just thinking of visiting you. Perfect timing, wouldn't you say?"
They speak softly. Then his gaze shifts to me.
He walks closer.
His hand rises, touching my cheek carefully—as if confirming I truly exist.
"Is this really you?"
"Hmm?" I murmur, confused.
Suddenly, he bows.
"Allow me to join your journey, young master." He holds my hand in front of his chest.
I immediately stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please stand, sir. I would feel uncomfortable if you do this, Mr. Oliver."
He stands, though still slightly bowed. "Allow me, young master."
I finally nod.
He smiles faintly.
Oliver turns to Rose as she steps closer. "I never thought you would truly fulfill your wish, my lady," he says, ruffling her hair.
Then he looks back at me. "Would you care to stay for a while, young master…?"
—
We do not stay long.
We return to the carriage, leaving the noisy bar behind.
But I catch something in Rose's expression—a hesitation quickly hidden.
She sits inside the carriage, looking at Oliver. "Why didn't you tell them, Uncle?"
"I wanted to surprise them, my lady," Oliver replies casually. "So, when will you be leaving again?"
I give a faint smile. "That is not my decision. Rose decides."
Rose smiles as well, though faintly. "We cannot stay here long, Uncle. He may already be in the newspapers. Many are searching for him. His magic has returned. I think you are the one who should decide when we leave."
Oliver studies her for a moment, then nods.
"Very well. I do not wish to endanger Quenstown. Do you have a map?"
Rose hands it over immediately. "Has my weapon been prepared, Uncle?"
"The weapon you have wanted since childhood?" he asks while opening the map. "Have you trained with it?"
Rose nods quickly. "I have studied it for years. I did not bring my own weapon—it is too old. Has it been prepared for me?"
Oliver chuckles softly. "I would never forgive myself if I had not prepared it. Of course it is ready."
He traces the map with his finger.
"Very well. We will return to Zepharia, follow the coastline, then cross the sea to Nimurelle."
Rose nods firmly. "As you wish, Uncle. As long as my weapon is ready."
Oliver shakes his head slightly, smiling. "You never change, my lady."
—
The carriage climbs toward the hill.
When we reach the top, the view opens wide—more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.
Rose immediately steps out.
"Wow… it feels like heaven…" she murmurs in awe.
Below, villages are scattered. Rice fields form neat patches, a river winds across the land, mountains stand far on the horizon, with the sea beyond them.
"I have not been here in a long time. Once again, I forgot what a view like this looks like, Uncle."
Oliver pays the driver as he replies, "Is that so? I did not know you had forgotten."
The carriage moves down again.
"I'm sorry. After all, you haven't visited for so long, Uncle," Rose continues.
Oliver simply nods. "Yes, yes. Come inside."
We walk toward a house near the hill. Its position is perfect—overlooking the vast scenery.
"Please, young master," he invites.
I nod and follow behind them.
The door opens.
Inside, the house is lit by oil lamps and moonlight filtering through the windows. Warm. Calm—the opposite of the world outside.
Rose immediately turns.
"So… where is my weapon, Uncle?"