As countless stars of heroes fell, the morning star dimmed, and even the moon yielded to darkness, the crimson sun rose once more. Its rays slipped gently past the curtain of the room where Sillion lay, brushing his face with the tender touch of a woman''s hand.


    He leaned into the sunlight and slowly opened his eyes. Downstairs, someone moved quietly within the inn.


    Sillion rose with care. His joints ached, but the pain had eased since the day before. Drawing a long breath, he raked his fingers through his hair, donned his leather coat, and opened the door without a sound.


    Descending the stairs, he spotted a lone figure seated near the hearth.


    It was the mermaid he had heard splashing the night before. Though her voice now was different, there was something familiar about her presence. Her damp hair cascaded down her back under the dim glow, and a shield, still beaded with droplets, rested silently by her side.


    Sillion approached her quietly. Their eyes met, yet neither spoke. Her hand stirred slightly—but not toward the hilt of her blade. Instead, it drifted calmly to her side.


    In that fleeting moment, Sillion understood.


    "She is cautious. But… she means me no harm."


    He drew closer with care. Unlike others, he neither greeted her first nor fidgeted with his weapon.


    She watched his movements, wary at first. Yet strangely—her hand made no move for the sword. Instead, it lingered near her shield, fingers curled tightly, shoulders faintly tensed.


    Like one more accustomed to defense than attack.


    Sillion studied her quietly. And then, she spoke.


    "You''re awake."


    "And you are…"


    He hesitated, uncertain how to begin.


    "...How long have you been here?"


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    "You were already lying in bed when I arrived. I heard the girl brought you in."


    "The girl?"


    She nodded slowly. Sillion stepped toward the window and exhaled softly.


    "The coral on your back suggests you''re of the merfolk. They don''t usually travel far from home. What brings you here?"


    She spoke at last, voice low.


    "I simply wanted to leave. Don’t ask more."


    He opened his mouth, then shut it again.


    She didn’t press further. Instead, she slid something across the table with her fingers—an old map, worn and creased. A red line snaked across it, and a name in an indecipherable language marked an unknown place.


    "Still, I can''t sit idle. You wield a sword, don’t you?"


    Sillion seated himself beside her and nodded. The breeze stirred a sheet of paper on the table.


    "...May I ask your name?"


    She didn’t retreat, but neither did she close the distance.


    "Serenil. And you?"


    "Sillion. So—what is this map?"


    Noticing his uncertainty, Serenil seemed to realize he couldn’t read the markings. She spoke quietly.


    "To cross the broken mountain pass, you’ll need both sword and shield. I carry the shield. You… seem to wield the sword. Don’t worry. I can read the map."


    "And beyond the pass? What lies there?"


    "The sea. You’ve not seen terrain like this before, have you? This red line marks the path to a forgotten city—Rienas. When the tide withdraws tonight, for one night only, the land will emerge."


    "And there… forbidden things are traded. You seem like someone who needs a few of those. Care to join me?"


    Sillion hesitated, then gave a slow nod.


    Serenil sighed with relief and met his gaze.


    "How’s your body? When can you travel?"


    He tested his limbs, the dull ache far less than before. Recovery was close.


    "By evening, at least. I should be mobile soon."


    She looked out the window, brows furrowed. The sun was beginning to fall again, heralding the return of moon and star.


    "Then rest well today. We leave at dawn. Be ready."


    He nodded, signaling his agreement.


    As Sillion turned toward the stairs, preparing to return to his room, he encountered the innkeeper’s daughter. She was carrying firewood and stopped short upon seeing him.


    "You''re leaving already?"


    "Not yet… tomorrow morning," Sillion replied without a smile, though a gentle calm lingered on his face.


    At that moment, the innkeeper stepped out and met Sillion’s gaze with a nod.


    "You feeling better?"


    "Thanks to you. Truly… I’m grateful."


    He bowed his head slightly.


    "If fate allows… I’ll return someday."


    "Then that’s enough. Just stay alive—that’s all that matters," the innkeeper said with a quiet laugh.


    With a final nod, Sillion ascended the stairs.


    He returned to his room and packed in silence. A blade wrapped in black cloth, a worn map, and a few memories not to be forgotten.


    The sun set. Night fell once more upon the land.


    And with the breaking dawn of the next day, Sillion and Serenil departed from the inn.


    No words were exchanged. Their steps were quiet—but resolute.


    Their journey had now begun.