The spare room was small but cozy, tucked at the back of the house where the faint sounds of crackling from the hearth barely reached. Most of the space was taken up by the bed, which was a simple wooden frame with a thick woolen blanket folded neatly at the foot. A patchwork quilt lay on top, brought in by Layla before she left him to retire for the night.
The floorboards creaked gently underfoot as Arin walked up to a low table by the bedside. He shifted a brass candleholder to one side, clearing up some space, before rolling up his left sleeve.
'Hey, sleepyhead.'
He poked at the small lizard that was still asleep, wrapped around his forearm. He had long since stopped worrying about waking it up with his movements. He was pretty sure he'd used his hands enough to have squashed it at least a few times, and clearly, it didn't care.
'I'm going to bed now, so you're going to have to move to this table, little dude.'
Arin tried to gently nudge it onto the wooden surface, and upon failing, simply untwined its long tail and placed the creature down by hand. Eyes still shut, the lizard sluggishly shuffled a little, before reluctantly curling up and resuming its slumber.
Arm finally freed, Arin walked over to the bed. In the dim candlelight, he caught some movement to his right, and turned towards it to see a mirror he hadn't noticed earlier.
It was a small one, set in a wooden frame hanging by the door. It looked quite old, and the things it reflected had soft, blurry edges.
Even though Arin knew what to expect, it was jarring to see a face entirely different from his own reflected back at him. Something about it was incredibly disconcerting.
Unsettled, Arin quickly looked away. He decided he might as well ignore it for now.
In any case, it's not like he was planning on using it the mirror to style Rin's hair into pigtails or something, so it didn't really matter either way.
Besides, the day had finally caught up to him, and suddenly, he felt much too tired to really care. Kicking off Rin's sandals and unclasping his cloak, Arin turned and directly flopped down onto his bed for the night.
Bad idea.
'Ugh, ow,' he groaned, wincing as the pain on the right side of his torso flared up again.
The last couple of hours spent conversing and laughing with Layla and her family had made him almost completely forget that he'd also been mauled by a lake. Of course, it didn't help that the bed was much harder than what he was used to.
'Fffffuu…' Arin had curled up to lie on his uninjured side as he waited for the burning pain to subside. Hissing through his clenched teeth was the only way he could stop himself from cursing out loud.
He lay there, unmoving, for the next several minutes. His thoughts were starting to jumble. A small part of his tired mind wondered whether whatever had gone wrong enough to send him into an unfamiliar body would, somehow, right itself overnight.
And just like that, without even blowing out the candle, he slipped into a deep sleep.
*
Arin found himself standing in the dark. He could only see shadows and silhouettes, and yet, he felt a sense of familiarity. It took him a moment to realize that he stood in the living room of his childhood home.
He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then, he started walking. He slowly navigated past the beanbags and the television set. He passed by the unlit fireplace. He stepped over a misplaced floor cushion. His feet were soundless on the wooden floors.
As he approached the coffee table, he came to an abrupt stop. Someone was sitting on the plush sofa, hunched over in the corner. He could now hear broken sobs in the darkness.
'Ugh, why? …W-why!?'
He would recognize that voice anywhere.
'Mom?'
The person on the sofa didn't react. She continued sobbing, her face hidden in her hands.
'Why… did s-something like that… happen? Why to my son!? WHY!?' she wailed.
Arin suddenly realized that she was crying for him. He ran to her side.
'Mom, I'm here! Please, don't cry – I'm fine! See?'
His mother didn't react. It was almost like… she couldn't hear him. Her shoulders kept shuddering as she wept.
Arin tried to hug her, only to find his hands going right through her. He heard her broken voice mumble, 'He's… not coming back... N-not coming back? W-why!? Why not…'
'I am! I WILL!' Arin yelled in desperation. He didn't know how he could make his voice reach her. 'I'll come back as soon as I can, so please, mom…'
Don't cry.
He felt his eyes pricking with tears as he sat in the dark, trying to console his grieving mother. He kept talking to her, hoping in vain that his voice would reach her. He tried till his throat hurt. Eventually, he stopped. In the dark room, the only sounds were his mother's sobs.
*
Arin drifted into consciousness. His head was throbbing dully, and he was drenched in sweat. When he reached up a hand to cover his eyes, he could feel Rin's unfamiliar, curly hair sticking to his clammy forehead.
He was still here.
Arin sighed. Despite the uneasy haze clouding his mind, he could tell that it was already late into the night. The room's only window, framed by heavy curtains, allowed a sliver of moonlight to spill across the room, casting long shadows against the stone walls. It was the only light in the room; the lone candle had long since burned out.
He must've slept for hours. Even so, he didn't feel any more refreshed than when he'd gone to bed. If possible, he felt worse.
Must be thanks to that lovely dream he'd just had.
Blinking hard, Arin attempted to shake off the grogginess he felt. He knew that that was all it had been. A dream. A nightmare. Nothing more. There was no reason for his mother to be crying in his childhood home that had been sold off over two decades ago. And his father and two siblings would never leave her alone to cry like that anyway.
More importantly, there was no reason for her to be so sad. After all, Arin would be returning. He would.
No matter what.
Still, his disoriented mind couldn't help but fixate on the sound of her heartbroken sobs. They were still ringing in his ears, mournful and unrelenting.
Arin blinked again, trying to clear his head.
He could still hear the sobs.
He sat up.
He could still hear them.
Somewhere in the house, very close to where he was, someone was crying.