To the ruins once again

It was late at night when Ian found himself walking through the dimly lit streets. The town had settled into silence, with only the distant sounds of night animals and the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze breaking the stillness. The lights cast elongated shadows, flickering slightly with the movement of the wind.

As he reached his home, he immediately noticed a lingering scent in the air, a familiar one. Upon stepping inside, his eyes landed on a neatly packed food box placed on the dining table. His gaze then moved toward the couch, where Myrra lay sleeping peacefully.

She had come to bring him food again. Whenever her family cooked something special, Myrra always made sure to bring him a portion. He could easily piece together what had happened. She must have waited for him, hoping to give the food herself, but as time stretched on, exhaustion claimed her, and she drifted off to sleep.

Ian let out a quiet sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. He moved carefully, grabbing a blanket from his room. He considered carrying her to one of the bedrooms, but the thought of waking her up held him back. The couch was comfortable enough; he himself had slept there on multiple occasions. This would do.

As he gently draped the blanket over her, Myrra stirred slightly, shifting in her sleep. Without warning, she reached out, grasping his hand and pulling it close to her chest. Ian stiffened. He glanced down at her, watching her serene expression. Her long, silken hair cascaded over the couch, framing her delicate face. The soft glow from the lights highlighted the graceful curve of her cheek, the fullness of her slightly parted lips, and the delicate rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The blanket had slipped slightly, revealing the gentle slope of her shoulder and the smooth expanse of her collarbone.

His gaze traveled downward, tracing the elegant lines of her form. The curve of her waist dipped in perfectly before flaring into full, enticing hips. The fabric of her dress clung to her thighs, accentuating their soft yet toned shape. She shifted slightly, the subtle motion sending a ripple through her body, a tantalizing reminder of her feminine grace.

Now that he think about it, Myrra really is beautiful. Not that he hadn't noticed before, but it was something he often pushed to the back of his mind. Most people in this town were striking, perhaps due to their elven heritage, but more so because of the affluence and environment they were raised in. Yet Myrra had something beyond mere appearance. Perhaps it was the warmth in her expressions, the quiet kindness she carried, or the way she always found a reason to care about those around her.

He tried to slowly pull his hand away, not wanting to disturb her rest. However, as soon as he made the attempt, she tightened her grip.

"Do I have to stay like this all night?" he muttered under his breath.

Carefully, he tried again. This time, the movement caused her to stir. Her lashes fluttered before her eyes opened slightly, still heavy with sleep. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim lighting. When she finally registered their position, her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink.

"So… you're here," she murmured drowsily, her voice laced with sleep.

"Yeah, I just got back," Ian replied, clearing his throat as he quickly pulled his hand away. "Thanks for the dinner. You didn't have to wait for me."

"It's fine," she said, sitting up slightly. "I came over and saw you weren't home. Thought I'd watch something while I waited, but I got sleepy after eating and… well, I guess I knocked out." She rubbed her eyes before offering him a sheepish smile. "Sorry for intruding like this."

"Don't worry about it," Ian reassured her. "You should get some more rest."

Myrra glanced at the window, noticing how dark it still was. "I should probably head back."

"It's already really late," Ian pointed out. "Why don't you stay? I have multiple bedrooms. You can sleep properly."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she murmured in a soft voice.

Ian quickly ate the food she had brought before heading to his own room. Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had just happened. Myrra's warmth still lingered faintly on his hand.

Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, Myrra was rolling over on the bed, burying her face in the pillow.

Neither of them got much sleep that night.

The next morning, Ian woke up early and decided to prepare breakfast. The sound of dishes clinking must have roused Myrra, because soon enough, she appeared in the kitchen, stretching slightly.

"Morning," she greeted.

"Morning," Ian replied. "Did you sleep well?"

Myrra hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. You?"

"Same."

They sat down and had breakfast together, neither mentioning the events of the previous night. The conversation flowed as usual, but there was an unspoken understanding between them, both relieved that things weren't awkward, yet also unable to shake a lingering thought in the back of their minds.

After finishing her meal, Myrra excused herself. "I should go home and change."

"Yeah, I'll pick you up after," Ian said, knowing they had to head to the workshop soon.

She nodded before heading out. Later, Ian went to her house to pick her up, and the two of them made their way to the workshop. He wasn't visiting Master Ordan today, he needed time to focus on writing the paper.

At the workshop, the day proceeded as usual, filled with the sound of tools clinking and discussions about ongoing projects. At some point, Holone brought up an idea.

"Do you want to go to the ruins?" he asked.

Ian glanced at him, his expression unreadable.

"The old ruins?"

"Yes. You know, the ones we went to before."

"They were dangerous back then, but now they've been turned into a tourist site."

After the area was cleared, the owner, with some help from higher-ups, converted the entire zone into a tourist attraction. It had already been serving as one for months. People came from distant places just to visit the once-forgotten ruins, now transformed into a grand historical site. Some were drawn by the rich history, others by the eerie stories surrounding the place, and a few simply sought the novelty.

"Yeah, I've heard about that," Ian admitted. "I just… never had the interest to go."

"I've been there multiple times. The place is nothing like what it used to be. It's practically a castle inside now."

Oryn nodded. "Yeah, they've really transformed it. You can even stay the night for the full 'ruins experience.'"

"We should go and check it out," Myrra added. She had actually been there before with her family for an outing. Now, only Ian and Lirian had yet to visit.

Ian hesitated. To him, the ruins weren't just ruins, they were a place where he had nearly lost his life, a place that still haunted him. The memories were sharp, and the lingering fear was something he wasn't sure he had fully overcome.

Still, with the way everyone was looking at him, waiting for his answer, he found himself sighing in resignation.

"Fine," he relented.

His friends cheered at his decision, and plans were set in motion for the upcoming trip.

After finishing the day, Ian went to the gym.

In the ring, he squared off against one of the instructors.

His opponent stood calm, watching, waiting. Ian mirrored him, steadying his stance. 

Then, a shift. A sudden burst of movement.

The instructor lunged, closing the distance in a blink, his elbow slicing toward Ian's ribs. Ian deflected with a sharp parry, stepping in to counter with a knee. But his opponent twisted, absorbing the impact, his foot sweeping low in an attempt to knock Ian off balance.

Ian barely caught himself, twisting mid-air and landing just in time to duck under a follow-up strike. He countered with a rapid combination, an open-palm strike to the shoulder, followed by a spinning backfist.

The instructor leaned back, just out of reach, then retaliated. A sharp hook to the body. A sudden grab. A brutal attempt to throw Ian off his feet.

Ian resisted, twisting free, planting his feet firm. The momentary gap allowed him to drive forward with a heavy elbow strike, aiming to break through his opponent's guard.

The buzzer rang.

A draw.

Both men stepped back, panting. Ian wiped the sweat from his forehead, catching his breath.

A chuckle broke the silence.

"You were awfully excited in the ring today. I almost lost."

Ian looked up as the instructor stretched his shoulders. 

"Something on your mind?" Kieran asked, watching him closely.

Ian exhaled. "I'm going back."

Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Back where?"

Ian met his gaze.

"To the place I nearly died. The ruins."

For a second, Kieran's usual smirk faltered.

Then he let out a breathy laugh. "Haa haa, heh… It's fine. You'll be okay. It's nothing like before. I've been there since they rebuilt it. It's just a tourist spot now."

Ian didn't respond immediately.

Kieran sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Even I was there when it happened, you know that right, I was one of the security personnel trapped inside that night. I fought much harder than you"

Kieran clapped a hand on Ian's shoulder, offering a lopsided grin. "It's okay. Go enjoy the trip."