An arrow strikes though its target perfectly in heart even though it was flying mid-air. Another one also hit the second target with precision, and that is how Cenric and Atreus managed to get their dinner in such a vast field, a few hours away from the capital. Atreus applauds in awe of how good Cenric is with his arrows, as always. Big swords, hammers, spears, and other heavy weapons are more common in Valria, as most Valria natives have big builds. However, Cenric has a smaller frame compared to most men around their age, and Atreus also finds bows and small swords suit his cousin more.

As they walk to collect their fallen prey, Atreus does some talking, but Cenric is not up to listening. Archery reminds him of Nicola, who introduced him to one of the weapons he loves. Archery is not native to Valria, and as far as Cenric knows, only two people do it: him and Nicola, which raises a sudden question: Why and how Nicola gets so good at it?

Once he asked Nicola and all he got was a short vague answer, ‘I learned it during a visit to another country.’ However, no one in the countries Nicola frequented practiced archery. Even if he did learn from archers in other places he seldom visited, his skills were too advanced to have been acquired during such short visits. Cenric was just a young teenager back then and trusted Nicola, so he did not pursue the matter further. But now? It is strange as he thinks about it.

“Something’s wrong, Cenric?”

Atreus’ voice pulls Cenric back into reality. Cenric tries to regain focus on his surroundings. Atreus has begun preparing to cook, while he just stands there, holding one bird in his right hand and a bow in his left.

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“What a big lie. You’ve been out of it since we left the castle. Something’s wrong.”

Cenric remains silent, prompting Atreus to pry deeper.

“Is a date arranged for you? Oh, did he find out your fantastic score in the exam yesterday?”

Cenric rolls his eyes at his friend for reminding him of his unusual score that astounded everyone like a bombshell yesterday noon. He was scolded harshly in front of Nicola, who acts as his guardian in matters related to his studies. Atreus was just passing by the room in the peak moment, and laughed all the way until evening when he found out about Cenric’s score. Cenric perfectly understands that Atreus does not mean any harm by teasing him about it; on the contrary, he just wants Cenric to cheer up. It is just Cenric’s foul mood that makes him want to button Atreus up.

“Firstly, it should be you who is getting arranged dates. You’re twenty-eight already. Your father has been talking about grandchildren in the last four years, arranged more than forty dates and you rejected all those girls. Most of them have even gotten married. Secondly, no, Nicola has not told anyone about my score. Maybe he has, but father was definitely way too busy with the celebration. Knowing him, he’d forget it the second Nicola told him.”

Despite not raising his voice, Cenric is certainly mad. Such a fact is easily grasped by Atreus. Cenric never talks this much unless he needs to shut someone up. Therefore, Atreus decides to not say anything further.

Some moments have passed. They have set up their tent, cooked their dinner, and cleaned up afterward — all done without a word. It is only ten minutes after they started eating that Cenric begins to talk again, a sign that his foul mood is already subsiding.

“Atreus, can I ask you something?” asks Cenric, breaking the silence as the sun has just completely set.

“Sure, ask it away,” answers Atreus, ears all ready to hear the responses he has been waiting for since noon.

“Is it right to doubt someone that I have known and trusted for so long, only because of one recent incident?”

Atreus puts more woods into the bonfire, stalling time to consider his answer carefully.

“It depends on quite a lot of factors. Who and what are the biggest factors, if it were me.”

Cenric adjusts his seating position before proceeding with his question, “If you dreamed something bad about that person, would you rather choose to believe that person or your dream?”

“If it were me, of course I would choose the person. But we’re different after all. You have an ability with your dreams. My dreams, ten out of ten, never tell me anything useful enough to be applied in real life.”

Atreus stares at Cenric for two seconds before asking further, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, I’m good,” responds Cenric, hugging his knees.

“Okay, then. Tell me when you feel like it, or when you need to, ‘kay?” says Atreus, getting to his feet to clean up after their meal. Cenric decides to help him, forgetting his problems for a little while as he engages in conversation with Atreus about various unrelated things, until they eventually fall asleep for the night.

Little does Cenric know that it will be one of his worst decisions to be away from the castle that night.