Jacky stared at Riven with a vague glint in his eyes, as if something hidden lay behind his gaze. His thick hand reached for a small bottle on the table, but instead of drinking it, he simply rolled the object between his fingers. His voice was heavy, layered with a note of nostalgia as he spoke,
"I still remember… the first time I met you. You were just a snot-nosed kid back then. I saw you sneaking through the market, snatching a piece of bread from another beggar. You thought I didn't notice? And for what? Just to feed your little sister."
Riven fell silent, his pupils narrowing briefly, though his face remained expressionless. Jacky continued, his voice lowering, like a man drowning in old memories.
"But your sister… the moment she saw that beggar starving, she secretly split the bread and gave half of it back to the one you had taken it from. You know? I laughed at that. You two were clearly siblings… yet so utterly different, like the sky and the earth."
Riven glanced to the side. At the far end of the room, Melly was standing still in front of an old bow displayed on the wooden rack. Her eyes sparkled, mesmerized by the weapon. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation.
Of course, she never knew he had stolen that bread and he had never planned to tell her.
Back to facing Jacky, Riven narrowed his eyes. His voice sounded edged, tinged with fatigue and impatience.
"So what exactly are you trying to say, Jacky?"
Jacky leaned back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint smile.
"I'm just curious," he said lightly, though his gaze pierced deep, "how could the two of you be born from the same womb… yet turn out so different? Sometimes I really wonder… what was your past truly like? You've never once told me."
Riven answered flatly, his tone cold.
"Why should I tell you that?"
Jacky only smiled, this time wider.
"Ha… fair enough. What good would it do to share secrets with someone like me? Still… we've known each other for quite a while, haven't we? If I'm not mistaken, about five years since I first saw you in that city. Five years, kid. Quite a stretch of time, don't you think?"
.
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On the way home, Riven's mind still replayed Jacky's final words before leaving the shop. His brow furrowed. Something in the bald man's tone unsettled him.
His hand brushed against the white-ice sword strapped to his waist, still wrapped in its worn cloth. For a moment, he reconsidered his decision—should he have shown the sword to Jacky? His purpose in coming had been to gauge its rank and price. Yet in the end, his instincts told him otherwise. He knew human nature well: greedy, cunning, and willing to sacrifice others for profit.
He understood, this blade was no ordinary weapon. And if someone like Jacky learned of it, there was no guarantee the man would let him walk free, no matter how long they had known each other. That was why he had chosen not to reveal it.
Once they reached a larger city, he would sell it at a black-market auction to secure the highest possible profit. With the sword's quality and uniqueness, the auction house would no doubt want it in their queue. That was his plan.
Melly walked at his side, occasionally rubbing her eyes in drowsiness. The girl didn't complain, only stealing glances at her brother with eyes brimming with trust.
Their pace quickened as cold droplets began to fall from the sky. A drizzle slowly darkened the streets, lit only by the dim glow of torches at the alley corners. The scent of wet earth filled the air, mingling with the damp wood stench of the ramshackle houses they passed.
When they finally reached their small temporary home, Riven felt as if all the strength had drained from his body. Today had been truly exhausting. He had faced danger after danger threatening his life, yet in the end, he had survived. That was what mattered most.
As the wooden door slid shut, the house felt calmer, though the sound of the drizzle outside remained clear. Riven removed his sword, setting it carefully in the corner. His gaze lingered on the wrapped cloth for a moment, before he exhaled deeply and turned toward the bedroom.
Melly trailed behind him, her eyes half-closed with sleep. But before surrendering fully to drowsiness, she gently tugged at the hem of his shirt.
"Riven…" her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
Riven turned, his eyes heavy, his face weary. "Hm? What is it, Melly?"
"I… there's something I want to talk about…" The girl looked up at him, hesitant, as if afraid the timing was wrong.
Riven stared for a few seconds, then rubbed his face. The fatigue pressing down on him was overwhelming. He wanted to listen, but his eyelids felt like they were being pulled down by invisible chains. With a voice softer than usual, he replied, "Melly, I'm truly exhausted… tomorrow, alright? Tomorrow I promise I'll listen to everything."
Melly went quiet for a moment. Her expression betrayed a flicker of disappointment, but she quickly nodded, trying to understand. "Alright, Brother…" she said softly, her voice nearly drowned by the rain outside.
Riven gave a faint, weary smile. "You're a good girl." He rose, walked into their small bedroom, and collapsed onto the thin mattress chilled by damp air. It didn't take long before sleep swallowed his consciousness.
Melly lingered a little longer, watching her brother's back as he slept. Finally, she climbed onto the mattress, pulled the tattered blanket over herself, and lay down beside him.
Outside, the drizzle turned heavier. Water dripped from the roof's cracks, adding to the silence of the night.
Yet it wasn't only the rain that accompanied them that night.
Not far from the little house, a man stood beneath the shadow of a tree, his sharp eyes fixed on their home. His face was hidden beneath a hood, the faint gleam of moonlight flickering in his gaze from time to time.
He remained still for a long while, studying the shabby house as if weighing a decision. Rain drenched his shoulders, but he didn't move an inch.
Only after several minutes did he sigh quietly, turn away, and disappear into the darkness. His footsteps faded with the rain that devoured the night.
The house fell silent again, leaving only the calm breathing of two siblings asleep, unaware that danger had already set its eyes on them.
.
.
Warm steam filled the room, dimly lit by oil lanterns scented with dried flowers. At its center, a large marble bath brimmed with hot water, infused with rare herbs, red rose petals, and costly spices that released a soothing fragrance. The surface glimmered faintly under the soft glow, reflecting the silhouette of a woman bathing within.
Her face seemed surreal, so beautiful it was almost inhuman. Her skin was pale as porcelain, smooth and flawless, contrasted by long blood-red hair that floated damp upon the water's surface. Her eyes remained closed, lashes trembling faintly with each calm breath. Her slender neck, traced by faint blue veins, rose above the surface, adding an aura both fragile and dangerous.
Her body lay submerged beneath the warmth, only her head and a glimpse of shoulder exposed, as though the rising fragrance of the herbs and spices fused with the heat of her skin. Rose petals clung to her shoulder, adorning her like an offering to some foreign goddess.
For a long while, the silence was broken only by droplets falling from the ceiling. Then, slowly, her damp red lips parted as if to whisper, and the eyes that had been closed gradually opened.
Those blazing red eyes pierced through the warm mist, cold and sharp as blades unsheathed within the fog.