Sunlight filtered through the window.

Gentle and warm.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers from the garden below. Birds sang somewhere in the distance.

Alaric stirred. His consciousness rising slowly from deep sleep that had actually been restful for once.

Then he felt weight on his chest.

Something pressing down. Small but insistent.

His eyes opened.

Anya's face filled his vision, maybe six inches away. Her blue eyes were wide and bright. Her small finger was extended, poking his nose repeatedly.

Poke! Poke! Poke!

"Wake up, big bro Azra! Wake up wake up wake up! Breakfast is ready!"

Alaric groaned.

He shifted slightly under her weight, she was sitting on him, he realized.

"Anya..."

"You gotta wake up! Mama said to get you and breakfast is getting cold and I'm hungry—"

Alaric sat up carefully, forcing Anya to scramble off him or risk being dumped onto the bed. He stretched. Arms above his head. Shoulders rolling. Working stiffness from muscles that had actually relaxed for once.

He looked at the girl. "You could have woken me up normally."

Anya pouted. Her lower lip stuck out. Arms crossing over her small chest in universal child gesture of indignation.

"I tried! I called your name like five times! And you just kept sleeping like... like..." She made exaggerated snoring sounds.

Despite himself, Alaric's lips twitched slightly. "I don't snore."

"Do too!"

"Do not."

"DO TOO!" Anya stamped her foot. Then her expression shifted, becoming mock-serious, trying to channel authority she didn't actually possess. "Now get UP, big brother. Or... or no breakfast!"

She spun on her heel and marched toward the door. Paused at the threshold to look back dramatically. "I mean it! No food for sleepy heads!"

Then she disappeared into the corridor. Her small footsteps pattering away.

Alaric sat on the edge of the bed. Alone. Staring at where she'd been.

He sighed. Long and resigned. "It's a day in Ashfeld."

Ran his hand through his hair, noting absently that it needed washing, that he probably looked like he'd been dragged through the forest, which... accurate.

How much longer do I need to spend here for full recovery?

He stood. Moved to the washbasin the servants had left. Splashed cold water on his face. Let it shock away the last remnants of sleep.

What do I even do for that time?

He couldn't train properly. Not really. His essence channels were too damaged. Pushing them would only delay recovery further. Maybe even make things worse.

He could explore the town. Learn the layout. Gather information about Thiaman, its politics, its power structure, how different it was from Vedgard.

Could research ways to get back. Find out if there were teleportation gates between kingdoms. Trade routes. Anything that would help him return to—

To what?

Phoenix Academy was attacked days or weeks or months ago. By now, classes would have resumed or been cancelled entirely.

And he'd been declared missing.

Selene...

Was she okay? Does she know where he is?

Elina...

She was there at the academy when attack happened.

Was she safe? Or had she—

Stop.

He cut the spiral off. Forced himself to focus on immediate reality instead of spiraling into concerns he couldn't address.

And also where was Nyra now?

Elena said something about her being there.

Would she still be at Lilith's place?

He doesn't know.

Alaric dried his face. Stared at his reflection in the small mirror above the washbasin.

Crimson eyes stared back.

Are they okay?

He had no way to know. No way to contact them. No way to even confirm they were alive without somehow traveling back to Vedgard.

I'm trapped here. For now. Until I heal. Until I figure out what's next.

He turned from the mirror. Grabbed a clean shirt from the wardrobe the servants had stocked. Pulled it on, wincing slightly as fabric scraped across healing wounds.

And then opened the door. Stepped into the corridor.

The smell of breakfast wafted up from downstairs.

His stomach reminded him that he was still hungry.

And below, Anya's voice called out impatiently.

"Big bro Azra! HURRY UP!"

Alaric descended the stairs and found the dining room easily, following the smell and Anya's increasingly impatient calls.

The space was warm.

Henry sat at the head of the table, already halfway through his meal. He looked up and nodded. "Morning."

Vanessia sat to his right, cutting fruit into small pieces for Anya, who bounced in her chair with barely contained energy.

"Finally!" Anya pointed at the empty seat beside her. "Sit here, big bro Azra! Next to me!"

Alaric moved to the indicated chair.

A servant immediately appeared with a plate, bread still warm, strips of bacon, eggs cooked with herbs, sliced fruit.

He ate without ceremony. Just focused consumption while the family continued their morning routine around him.

Anya talked constantly. About her lessons yesterday, about the fountain in the garden, about a cat she'd seen on the street.

"And I have this really cool thing! I wanted to show you yesterday but Mama said you needed rest but now you're awake and—"

"Anya." Vanessia's voice was gentle but firm. "Azra still needs to heal. And you have classes this morning with Tutor Marris."

Anya's face fell. Her enthusiasm deflating like punctured balloon. "But Mama—"

"No buts." Vanessia smiled to soften the refusal. "Your lessons are important. And big brother Azra will still be here later. You can show him your things after you're done."

Anya's shoulders slumped. She pushed fruit around her plate with her fork. "Okay..."

"That's my good girl." Vanessia kissed the top of her head.

Anya finished her food quickly, child's efficiency when faced with obligations. She slid off her chair and moved to hug her father, then her mother.

Then she turned to Alaric. Hesitated. Then darted forward and hugged him too, quick, impulsive gesture before pulling back with shy smile.

"See you later, big bro Azra!"

"Later," he confirmed.

A servant appeared, middle-aged woman with kind face. "Come along, Miss Anya. Tutor Marris is waiting." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Anya took her hand and allowed herself to be led away. Her voice echoed back from the corridor. "Can we do history today? I like the stories about the old kingdoms..."

Silence settled over the table. More comfortable without the constant chatter.

Vanessia sipped her tea. Then looked at Alaric directly. "I've arranged for you to see a healer today. She's quite good. Expensive, but—" She waved her hand dismissively. "Worth it for serious injuries like yours."

"You don't have to—"

"We want to," Vanessia interrupted firmly.

She turned to her husband. "Henry will take you. The healer's shop isn't far."

Henry nodded and set down his fork. "Finish eating. We'll go whenever you're ready."

Alaric nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Vanessia said. "Just get better. Then you can figure out... whatever comes next."

After finishing the food. They stood up and headed outside.

---

Henry led Alaric through Ashfeld's streets with practiced ease. The town was fully awake now, merchants opening shops, workers hauling goods, children playing in alleys, guards maintaining their patrols.

Still that same gender disparity Alaric had noticed yesterday. Most positions of authority occupied by women. Men present but... secondary, somehow.

They turned down a side street.

Which was quieter. More residential mixed with specialized shops, apothecaries, essence suppliers, craftsmen working with magical materials.

Henry stopped in front of a building marked with healer's sigil, stylized hand holding flame. "Here. Just tell her Vanessia Valcieri sent you. She'll know what to do."

"You're not coming in?"

"Got errands to run. Market opens soon and I need to check our inventory." Henry clapped him on the shoulder, carefully avoiding the injured one. "You'll be fine. Healer Kyra is professional. Bit expensive, but good at what she does."

He turned and headed back toward the main thoroughfare. "Meet you back at the house!"

Alaric watched him go. Then turned to the healer's shop.

Pushed the door open. A bell chimed softly.

---

Outside the Healer's Shop...

At a tavern Across the Street. A figure sat at one of the outdoor tables.

Hood pulled low despite the morning warmth. Nursing a drink that had gone lukewarm while they watched.

They'd been there for an hour. Watching.

And when the boy with crimson eyes entered the healer's shop, when the door closed behind him—

The figure's lips curved into a smile beneath the hood's shadow.

"Interesting."

They stood smoothly. Left coins on the table.

Pulled the hood down further.

And vanished.