"Hey Karu! How's business? How's your mother?"
Before I could say a word, Cayos was already at the bar, all easy posture and crooked grin, voice smooth like he'd grown up here.
It was jarring.
He didn't sound like the cryptic manipulator who spoke in riddles.
He sounded… normal. Charming, even.
Like someone who belonged here.
The girl behind the counter didn't flinch. Didn't smile either.
"No questions," she said, flat as rusted steel.
A few heads turned, curious.
"Ah, right. That's the rule, isn't it?" Cayos gestured lazily to the words painted on the back wall. No fights. No questions. No exceptions. "You'll have to forgive me."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "But really, when was the last time you saw the sun? Remind me to take you to the surface sometime."
She stared him down with a look that could cut pipe.
When her only answer was a long, cold glare, Cayos just chuckled, genuinely amused.
"Two bowls, Karu. I'll be back in a minute."
And then he vanished, slipping behind a curtain like the whole scene had been staged for an invisible audience.
The silence that followed prickled.
I stood there, still holding my breath, feeling every sidelong glance ripple through the space he'd just vacated.
"Uh… sorry about him."
Karu rolled her eyes. "Don't be. He's helped us out more than a few times."
She gave me a quick glance. Then another. Measured. Not unkind. Just... observant.
"You probably don't have cash."
It wasn't a question.
"I-uh... Like paper money?"
"Figures." She grabbed a bowl without looking at me. "Friends of Cayos eat on the house. I owe him that much, at least."
"Thanks," I muttered, grateful and unsure where to stand.
She ladled broth, added noodles, vegetables. Worked fast, but not carelessly.
She couldn't have been older than me. Maybe younger. But she moved with the kind of certainty you only got from having no other choice.
And somehow, she had a whole restaurant, down here, in the depths, named after her.
The thought barely finished forming before she answered it.
"The restaurant was named after my grandfather," she said, without looking up. "I was named after it."
She slid the bowls forward. The steam curled like fingers, reaching for my face.
I didn't sit right away. Just hovered awkwardly, then took the stool across from her when she nodded toward it, once, barely perceptible.
She didn't say anything. Neither did I.
The silence stretched. Not uncomfortable exactly, just solid. Like it belonged to her.
I picked up the chopsticks, unsure if I should wait for Cayos. Karu didn't stop me.
"Thanks," I said finally.
She grunted. "Eat before it gets cold."
I did. The broth hit like a memory I didn't have. Deep. Simple. Real.
"You're good at this," I said.
"Obviously."
Her tone was flat, not rude. Just tired of hearing things she already knew.
"You always run it alone?"
Karu gave me a sidelong glance, like she was measuring how long I'd last in this place. "When I was younger, people helped. Pity orders, leftover stock. Thought I was just playing at it."
"And now?"
"Now I feed half the level," she said, matter-of-fact.
There was no pride in it. Just truth.
I hesitated. "What happened to your parents?"
She stiffened slightly, just for a breath. Then answered, low.
"Mum's upstairs. Sick. Dad got himself killed over a loan when I was eight. The restaurant was hers."
I didn't know what to say to that.
But she didn't seem to need anything from me anyway.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
She gave a shrug that said she'd heard that before, too.
We ate in silence for a bit.
Then she asked, almost idly, "Why'd he bring you here?"
I blinked. "Cayos?"
"Yeah."
I hesitated. "Honestly… I don't know."
She didn't answer right away. Just watched me, eyes narrowing like she was trying to see if I even believed that myself.
"Does he scare you?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Thought about lying.
"…Sometimes."
That earned a sound. Not quite a laugh. More like a breath through the nose.
"Good," she said. "Means you're still paying attention."
I set the bowl down, fingers still curled around the rim.
"Do you trust him?"
She started wiping the counter. Slow. Careful.
"He pays what he owes. Never asks for favours. Never outstays."
She hesitated, cloth pausing mid-wipe.
"And sometimes… he leaves more than he should."
She looked up. Met my eyes.
"That's the part that makes me nervous."
I frowned. "Why?"
"Because people don't give without wanting something."
"And he hasn't asked yet?"
She shook her head.
"Not once."
Then, quieter:
"Which means whatever it is… I'm not going to like the cost."
Her eyes landed on someone behind me.
I turned.
Cayos was already in the back, seated like he'd always been there. Like he'd never left. Like I was the one who'd missed a step, sipping from a flask that definitely hadn't been in his coat a second ago. He didn't wave or call out, just met my eyes and tilted his head slightly.
Then he nodded at the bowls.
An invitation.
Or an order.
What was I getting myself into?
Who, or what the hell was Cayos?
—
I carried both bowls over, hands warm from the steam, and sat without a word. He didn't say anything at first either, just watched me settle in, the same unreadable expression on his face, like he was waiting for a punchline I didn't know I'd already delivered.
He took a slow sip. Let the silence stretch.
"You dream last night?" he asked, casual. Too casual.
I blinked. "What?"
"You haven't been marked yet," Cayos said, leaning back, "but your fate's already brushing the Reverie's edge. The dreams come early sometimes. Soft at first. Familiar places, twisted wrong. People who feel close but speak in riddles. Messages you forget the moment you wake."
He stirred his noodles once, watching the swirl. "So... did anything strange happen while you were sleeping?"
I almost lied.
Almost said no.
But the memory hit me like a wave.
That field, too still, too blue. And her, sitting on the rock. Crooked smile. Moonlight eye.
"There was a girl," I said.
He didn't move, but something in his posture changed. Tighter. Listening now.
"In the clearing. Our clearing… mine and Anya's. But wrong. The sky was cracked. The Citadel was gone. And she was just… sitting there. Waiting."
"What did she look like?"
I hesitated. "One eye shimmered like ice. The other… it reminded me of you."
Cayos went still.
Utterly, perfectly still.
"And?"
"She said I could call her Mirra. The… Veil-something?"
His eye flicked up, not angry.
Just like a thread had pulled too tight.
"The Veilweaver. First laughter. Last lie."
He didn't say it like a title.
He said it like a wound.
I had expected a laugh. A scoff. A deflection.
But all I got was silence.
And a look I didn't understand. Like I'd just spoken the name of a ghost that hadn't finished dying.
If before his expression flickered through masks, now they were all trying to rise at once. None quite winning.
His fingers curled around the flask.
Tighter.
"She said one more thing," I added, unsure if I should.
He looked at me, and for the first time since we met, I saw something crack behind that eye.
Not mischief.
Not madness.
Just… ache.
"What did she say?" he asked.
I swallowed. "She said that she misses you."
The words didn't echo.
They just… fell.
Like a knife hitting the floor.
Sharp. Final.
And not picked up.
He didn't laugh.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't say a word.
Just closed his eyes.
Then slowly, like it hurt, lifted two fingers to the edge of his eyepatch.
Not to remove it.
Just to feel the weight of what was underneath.
And for a second, just a second... I saw it.
A glow.
Faint, but unmistakable. Blue. Cold. Cracked from the inside.
No. Her eye.
A breath passed.
When he opened his eyes again, they weren't clever. Weren't cold.
They were full.
Of grief. Of memory.
Of something older than either of us had words for.
"Is she… real?" I asked.
Cayos didn't answer.
He looked down at the bowl between us.
Steam still rose.
But everything else felt impossibly still.
"She's farther than I can reach," he said, finally.
"And yet closer than my breath."
Then he looked up.
And the mask returned.
The smile. The tilt of the head.
But I'd seen it now.
Seen what was underneath.
"Eat," he said, nudging both bowls toward me. "You'll need your strength."
Before I could ask, he stood.
"Its getting late… shops'll start closing soon. But the Hollow Exchange…" He gave a small grin. "That one waits for the dark."
He didn't wait for a response. Just tipped his head toward Karu, then me.
"Eat, and ask her where to go. You'll find what you're looking for there. I already got what I came here for."
He turned and walked past the pale kid still hunched over his homework. Quietly dropped a stack of cash beside the boy's elbow.
The kid froze mid-equation. Pencil hovering. Eyes wide, but not surprised.
He blinked once. Twice.
Then looked up. Not at the money.
At Cayos.
No thank you. No awe.
Just a small, wary nod.
Like this had happened before.
Cayos reached the doorway. Paused. Just for a second, like something caught.
Then leaned back into the room with that same mischievous grin.
"Well…" A breath. Not quite steady. "I guess there's one errand I still need to run."
And just like that, he was gone.
Karu was already behind the counter again, cloth in hand, but her motions slowed.
Not confused. Just… still. Like she was trying to hear something that had already passed.
I sat there for a moment, not sure what I was still waiting for.
Then, softly, she asked, "What did he ask you?"
I blinked. "Dreams. He asked if I'd seen anything… strange."
Her eyes narrowed. Not at me. At the space he'd left behind.
"Huh."
She didn't follow up.
Just turned and set the cloth down.
"He always leaves people like that," she said. "Right when you start to think he's real."