A last dinner

Graf's residence was quiet, shrouded in a calm atmosphere, as no one else but Fudula remained inside the building. Not having checked the upper floor for the bald driver, Midas and Javelin headed for the back entrance that led to the tiny garden. As Midas opened the door, he immediately faced the sight of the old man kneeling in front of his makeshift grave—something that became a daily ritual on the evenings of the day, as Inaya told him.

Midas noticed the fleeting glance that Javelin gave him, seemingly not holding much trust in his source of information regarding how to get to their planned destination. Staying back on the balcony as he watched Midas head towards Graf to stand beside him for a quiet moment, Javelin furrowed his brows, trying his best to keep the thought of him ending up in the same place as the man in front of him one day out of his head.

"Midas...? What is it?"

"Sorry for interrupting you, but there is something important I want to ask you about..."

Turning his head back at his companion briefly to let Graf know, Midas looked down on the kneeling man with a worried expression, as he was unsure of how to phrase his many questions regarding their trip. Nodding shortly before shutting his eyes and bowing to the white stone one last time, Graf got up and headed for the door—the handshake he gave Javelin almost formal as he passed by him to get to the door.

"Well then. Tell me what burdens you two."

Fudula quickly got up from the fireplace; the faint steps she took towards a seated Graf were unsure as she mustered the two of them with the same wide eyes as before—seemingly still not recognizing who Midas was, most likely due to his haircut and changed clothing. The setting didn't help him much to loosen up; Midas felt like he was intruding on some families homes—disturbing their peace to riddle them with questions.

"Javelin here has a sister; she fell ill today, seemingly having lost her consciousness as she entered a coma. It seems like this disease gets worse with every day that passes—the only cure for it is found in the plant kingdom... a herb that is seemingly hard to come by."

"And this illness... is it mana-related or a virus...?"

Graf sunk his head slightly, arching up one of his brows at them while his hand rested on the shoulder of the young girl that stood beside him, looking up at his face with scanning eyes. Javelin remained quiet as he let Midas do the talking, glancing out of the milky windows of the house—the sky quickly becoming grey again from the longer period of sunshine that the region experienced.

"Avalon is sure that it's mana-related; he spoke of mana building up inside of her brain—unable to be used by her body, which causes it to store up without any way to retrieve it."

Graf's eyes were set on Midas as he explained, his hand rose up to cover his mouth as his brows furrowed at the description—seemingly trying to find the right kind of herb they were searching for, without much knowledge about illnesses like the one that was mentioned to him. Javelin's eyes sharpened slightly as he turned to the bald man again, seeing him close his eyes with equally sharp brows to think—Midas was able to feel how stressed his classmate had become.

"I used to deliver goods from this region's ports over to the plant kingdom when I was younger, from what I can remember... the capital city of the region had broad flea markets that sat in the masses of wood in which the place was constructed. There were a ton of dried goods, mostly roots and plants—but surely also herbs... I think starting there would be a good idea."

"Just to be sure... is there also a place in which we could find these herbs in a fresh form...?"

Javelin sat quietly beside him as Midas leaned onto the table slightly, only glancing over to the youth, as he felt wary of the northerner in front of him. The wooden table he sat on, the fire in the fireplace that cracked softly as they spoke, the stone floor of the building, and the wooden frames above their heads that were painted in a dark brown—all of it seemed foreign to him.

"Of course there is. The region is one entire forest after all... well, depending on how far you go north there, and if you do so... from the direction of the capital, you will end up following a river that flows downwards away from the direction you head into. I never really went there, but the locals say that the river there feeds a secluded part of the forest in which many rare species of plants grow."

 "I see... one of our classmates mentioned a carriage service that starts at a town named Brutpierda. Are there any other options besides it, or do you reckon we should take that route?"

The trust Midas had put in the northerner in front of him confused Javelin greatly; he was only able to watch the two of them converse. He thought back to the moment in which he laid eyes on Midas's and Jakal's swollen faces, their bruises and dark spots resurfacing in his thoughts as he stared at the white cloth that spanned the wooden table.

"Well, if you ask me, traveling in a carriage seems much safer for me. I encourage you to avoid risk if possible, especially outside of towns and cities. Since the region is riddled with forests, many pirate and bandit groups camp there and wait for passing travelers. Even though you might need to pay a fee for using it, you two at least won't be alone on your way there."

Midas nodded slowly at his descriptions, able to memorize his words as he was dependent on the directions he was given—practically blind when it came to the terrain or the optimal routes that led them further north. Since Graf is a salesman, he at least should be able to give them a rough plan on where to head to without having to face any great risks.

"Is your friend going alone...?"

"No, I will be following him—it wouldn't make much sense risking losing him as well..."

Midas replied through the large room; to the left of the door was a tiny kitchen in which Graf had crouched in front to fill up the stove with firewood, heating the metallic plate built on top of the stone base in which the fire roared inside. The obvious-sounding reply Midas gave him made Graf turn his head to the youth—his expression growing more worrisome as he stood up.

"Alright then... I guess I shouldn't stop you from doing what you have to do."

Time flew by as the house grew quiet. Midas had a loose moment to connect with Fudula again, not having gotten a chance to do so since the journey they took through the desert, in which their interactions were mostly fleeting as well. Having seated himself next to her in front of the warming fireplace, Midas's eyes were set on the Water Kingdom script, printed in a larger format than the books he had read to teach himself about new words or Null-Abilities.

As his eyes scanned the text, he noticed her glance up towards him for brief moments before quickly returning to the characters she traced along with her finger as she continued reading. Javelin sat beside Midas as he faced the flames, staring into the warm light to forget about his worry he held for his sick sister. Seeing the girl lay on her stomach beside him made Midas recall the time he had spent in the desert, seemingly having skipped that part of his childhood entirely.

Midas was unable to tell for sure, but it felt like one of the two great sun years that was given to him to come back to his origin had already passed—the sandstorm that will bury the loose bits of family he had found in Alma and what he left behind of himself still expanding, a threat that almost haunted him without ever being seen by the youth's eyes. The fort had grown to become his home, something he wanted to protect—as anything else regarding his past seemed much more elusive or fleeting.

A spark flew slowly from the bright light that was kept in check by the brick the fireplace was made out of. Graf walked back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table, preparing their last real dinner before the two of them would head out in the direction of Brutpierda. The young girl turned to the next page in silence, her head rising up from her palm on which her chin rested as the door began to open up.

Turning to Haya and Ivyda, Midas slowly got up, nudging Javelin's shoulder to make him get up from his curled-up position as well. Greeting Haya with a relaxed expression as Fudula ran into Inaya's arms, they all eventually came together to eat for what seemed to be the last time until they found the herb. Having sat down, Midas felt at peace for once—the sight of his friends dining at the same table as him was enough to ease the stress he felt when planning his journey. There were people that were willing to help him out—people he was able to come back to.

It was almost as if this was the family Midas had searched for.