Mirea hadn't been exaggerating—it was damned cold outside, and I was not particularly enthused about what that meant for my plans tonight. The short walk from the tavern back to Kerr's place, a small cabin in the woods on the outskirts of Silent Falls, had been sufficiently unpleasant that I'd had to admit that even my warmest attire just wasn't going to cut it. Everything I owned at this point in time was thin and worn, and I was guessing this little outing would take two or three hours, at least.

I stood outside the door to Kerr's bedroom, uneasiness squirming in my stomach. 

Lirelle isn't going to conveniently have an extra cloak with her, I told myself. It's this, or I freeze out there.

It was already past midnight—she might be here any minute, so I couldn't just keep delaying.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled open the door. As I'd hoped might be the case, the room was pitch black—no moonlight could get in since I'd blocked off the window from the outside two days ago, and the only lantern I currently had lit was on the other side of the cabin. 

I moved slowly, keeping my hand on the wall, and carefully traced my way around the edge of the room until my fingers made contact with what I was looking for—Kerr's cloak, hanging from a hook next to the covered window. Relieved, I pulled it off the hook, turned around, and started making my way back, perhaps a little faster than was advisable in such low visibility. As soon as I was out and the door was once again closed, I found myself letting out a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

...Okay. Good. That's the biggest problem solved.

I looked down at my hands, absentmindedly running the material of the cloak through my fingers as I studied it in the dim glow of the lantern. Soft, smooth wool, dyed jet black and carrying a minor enchantment that, when in darkness, made it difficult to focus one's vision on the edges of its silhouette—this was a garment I was intimately familiar with, having lived with Kerr for over a decade, but in all that time I'd never so much as tried it on. Enchantments were expensive, after all, and Kerr was the type to be stingy even with his less valuable belongings.

With a sigh, I threw the cloak around my shoulders and fastened the clasp. Guess I'll wait outside.

On my fifth throw, the knife, glinting in the moonlight as it cut through the air, finally made contact with the target... and then bounced off uselessly, landing in the dirt. I groaned and went to retrieve the collection of small blades from the ground at the foot of the tree I'd decided to use as target practice. God, this is sad. It wasn't as though I'd ever been particularly good at this, but... there had definitely been a time when I wasn't quite so spectacularly bad. 

A few years without practice will do that to you, I suppose.

...Well, I'd still bring the knives along, but I probably shouldn't be using them if at all possible tonight, lest I pose significantly more danger to myself and Lirelle than to any potential opponents. 

That said, I didn't exactly have anything better to do at the moment—Lirelle was taking longer than I would have expected, given how punctual I knew her to be. Kerr's cloak was doing its job keeping me warm, at least, so I shrugged to myself and stepped back over to my previous position.

Deep breath. Check my stance. Bring back my arm, and—!

The first knife flew just slightly wide. The second's blade buried itself in the wood with a soft thunk. It was a lot lower than I'd been aiming for, but still an improvement—assuming it wasn't just a fluke. The third hit at a bad angle and spun aside. The fourth... missed entirely. The fifth—

I froze abruptly, senses suddenly on high alert. All I could hear was the calm rustling of leaves in the crisp night breeze.

Slowly, I lowered my arm without throwing the final knife. I had no idea what near-imperceptible warning sign I'd subconsciously picked up on, but instinct told me it'd come from somewhere behind me. Keeping my movements smooth and silent, I turned on the spot and studied the woods on the other side of the small clearing.

That was the way to Silent Falls. Was it Lirelle, then? I stilled my breath and watched for movement, but didn't spot anything out of the ordinary.

...I'm not liking being out in the open like this.

Quickly settling on a plan, I started carefully backing up, keeping my gaze fixed on the area in front of me—once I'd gotten far enough, I would duck aside into the shadows behind the cabin, and then reevaluate.

There was a sharp thwack from somewhere close behind me—startled, tension exploded into panic, and instantly I whirled around to get a look at this second threat that I must have missed—

What I'd turned in time to see... was a rock clattering off the bark of the tree I'd been throwing knives at. In the same heartbeat, I heard the momentary shake of leaves and a soft thud as something—no, someone—leapt down from the branches of one of the trees in the area I'd been closely watching until just a split second ago. By the time I could even begin to consider my next action, the visitor had already managed to use the momentum of their landing to rapidly close half of the short distance between us.

I cursed my own idiocy.

Making a snap judgement, I started to turn back around as though to confront the attacker, but at the last second I instead made use of the twisting motion to throw myself to the side, out of their path. 

A lithe figure in an unassuming dark cloak finally entered my vision, skidding to an abrupt stop and smoothly spinning to face me. I stumbled backwards slightly, struggling to make out the shadowed face beneath the hood. My opponent, now standing still, seemed to be observing me in turn, a simple dagger held cautiously at the ready.

For a short time, neither of us moved.

"...Hey, so, uh... I don't really have the time to stand here staring at you all night," I tentatively began, breaking the silence. "And if you are who I think you are, you don't either."

There was a momentary hesitation, and then the figure reached up and pulled off their hood.

Skin just slightly darker than Mirea's. Long, auburn hair braided tightly back. A slim, beautiful face wearing a perfectly blank expression, and deep amber eyes... it was Lirelle, after all.

...So why the hell is she doing this?

I tried again to recall exactly what had happened on the previous iteration of 'today', but without much luck. From my perspective, that had been seven years and one apocalypse ago—if there'd been any clues back then as to why Lirelle might be acting like this, I certainly couldn't remember them now.

Without any better ideas, I simply did my best to look non-threatening. "...Lirelle, right? I'm Silt. Kerr's apprentice."

Finally she reacted, one of her eyebrows arching curiously. "...Oh?" After a brief pause, she lowered her dagger and awkwardly scratched the back of her neck with her free hand, offering me an apologetic look. "I... guess I got mixed up? Sorry, it's been a long day."

I breathed a long sigh of relief as my muscles relaxed, the tension draining from me. It was good to hear her voice again, after all this time. It still doesn't feel quite real, yet.

Sheathing her weapon, Lirelle stepped closer. "It's a little late now," she said with some amusement, "but yes, I'm Lirelle. Nice to meet you, Silt." 

Smiling amiably, she extended a hand for me to shake... and then, without warning, that hand instead darted towards and grabbed my right wrist with a grip like iron. 

I had no time to react. In the blink of an eye, she'd pulled my arm aside and wrenched the joint of my wrist back, applying enough force to rob my fingers of all strength. As confusion turned to pain and panic, I was distantly aware of my last throwing knife falling from my grasp and hitting the ground with a faint thud, and then the next thing I knew, my legs had been smoothly swept out from under me. The last thing I saw was that familiar, friendly smile, which hadn't so much as flickered even now—and then I was pinned face down in the dirt, breath driven from my lungs and my entire body aching.

A hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and sharply pulled my head slightly off the ground. "Kerr," Lirelle began, speaking in a low, cold voice, "never lends that cloak to anyone. For someone claiming to be his apprentice, you're god-awful with those knives. You have good instincts, but you fall for stupid tricks. Most importantly, though, you seem to have an idea of what I intend to do tonight."

"I—" I tried to speak, but all that came out was a series of ragged coughs.

"See, I only made up my mind to go ahead with those plans an hour ago," she continued, ignoring me, "and I haven't spoken of it to anyone. As far as both Mirea and Mucker would have been aware, I only came for some simple introductions today—so please, do explain: how did you know? And why the hell did you so easily reveal it?"

"...Wouldn't the natural assumption," I wheezed, "be that I'm... just an idiot? Or that it... was a slip of the tongue?"

Lirelle's grip on my hair tightened, jerking my head back farther. She seemed to hesitate before speaking. "...Perhaps I'm overestimating you, but I don't believe that. My gut's telling me that you said what you did on purpose, knowing full well that I'd find it suspicious, and yet you completely dropped your guard afterwards. None of this lines up."

I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking. She was right—I had dropped that hint intentionally. I'd expected her to prioritize her plans for the time being, rather than confronting me outright like this, but maybe her suspicion regarding Kerr's cloak and my pathetic knife throwing skills had pushed things over the edge of what she could comfortably play along with.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "...'Information that comes from someone else is inherently untrustworthy'," I rasped, struggling to recall the exact wording. "'When presented with something sufficiently implausible, it's easy to become defensive and disregard any and all evidence under the assumption that the other party is somehow twisting the facts in order to deceive you. Sometimes, regardless of whether the information is true or not, the best approach is to manipulate the other person into forming their own suspicions regarding whatever you want to convince them of, thereby getting past their defenses by making them believe that the idea is entirely their own'."

The clearing was silent, aside from the ever-present rustling of leaves. I coughed again. "I... suppose I'm not doing a very good job of putting the lesson into practice, though," I admitted.

Lirelle didn't say anything for a long while. When at last her voice returned, it was quiet; neutral. "What... is your goal for this conversation, then?"

I swallowed hard. "...I know what you're after. I know where to find it. Right now, there's no time to explain—let me help you, and I'll tell you everything when it's done. Take my weapons, tie up my hands if you want, I don't care—whatever will let you put some small amount of trust in me, at least for now."

Silence again. Finally, Lirelle released her grip on my hair. "You're putting yourself in an awfully vulnerable position just to help someone you only met minutes ago." Letting out a sigh, she got off of me, stood up, and dusted off her clothing. "...Maybe I'm the idiot here, but I'll believe you. For now. After this, you're going to walk me through everything as many times as it damn well takes for all of this to start making some sense."

Weakly, I rolled onto my back and took several shaky breaths. The night sky was clear and crisp, scattered stars glimmering like tiny diamonds amidst an endless sea of shadowed cobalt. It was mesmerizing—just a few days ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd see another clear sky as long as I lived.

"...Understood," I said, and smirked tiredly up at her. "Think maybe you could help me up? My entire body is currently rather sore, for some strange reason."

Lirelle snorted. "Oh, really? How very peculiar." She extended a hand down to me. "...Come on, then. I promise not to mess with your wrist this time."