The morning sun warms my face as I rise, gathering whatever remains of my soul. A series of knocks taps at my door.
"Young master, breakfast is ready. Please come down when you're awake."
"Alright," I answer with a messy yawn.
I walk out, open the door, descend the stairs, and head to the living room. The aunt and that girl are already cheerfully eating at the table. But… why are there bags and travel gear beside her?
I sit and join them at the wooden table. They extend their hands; I take them, feeling the quiet warmth of this small family ritual.
"I'll start," the girl says.
Aunt nods. "Go ahead." They both close their eyes.
"I'm grateful… that I'm still alive, and for the beautiful fate that led me to the person I've longed for all this time."
Her cheeks flare bright red.
I peek with one eye. What is that supposed to mean?
Aunt chuckles softly. "How sweet. Now you, Young Master."
I close my eyes again, take a breath. "I'm grateful… that I can still eat and feel something warm like this… after so long."
Aunt presses her hands together like an old prayer. "Then may this day be blessed. Let us dine."
We begin eating. The air turns warm and embarrassing; the girl refuses to look at me—her blush is stubborn.
But this warmth… I haven't felt it in so long, not since my mother… A tear falls onto the table.
"Eh—young master? What's wrong?" the aunt asks.
I nod while hiding my gaze. "It's nothing. I just… miss my mother."
Aunt answers gently,
"I understand. But your sorrow is healing, isn't it? Wipe your tears, young master. Enjoy this warmth."
I nod, wipe my tears, and continue eating.
Breakfast ends. Aunt gathers the plates, calls the cat, "Lucy, breakfast time," then busies herself feeding it and washing dishes.
The girl and I remain at the table. My earlier question returns to mind.
"Madam?" I ask.
"Hm?" She looks at me, dabbing her mouth with a cloth.
"Are you… planning to travel somewhere?" My gaze drifts to the neat stack of bags beside her.
She asks quietly,
"May I… follow you?"
I blink. "Follow me? Where?"
She lowers her gaze. "You know, right? That crystal magic binds itself to your life. It will draw people to you—people who want that magic… and will kill you so their journey won't be wasted."
My brows lift.
"That's exactly what I want," I answer instantly.
"What? What do you mean?"
"My first enemy spared me. Who knows why. But my second enemy won't. Right?" I tilt my head a little.
—SLAAP.
"Do you not have the will to live? Do you not feel that if you die, your mother gave birth to you for nothing!?" she snaps.
Her slap jolts loose a memory—my mother's message.
My longing for her is heavy… but she told me to find three meanings. I…
I nod.
"Help me."