The following morning arrived with a gentle breeze and the sun ascending to grace the day with its warmth. Birger had composed himself enough to return to his chamber and tend to the children. Pushing aside some disarrayed furniture, he re-entered his room to find Arjana finally awake, yet frozen like a startled deer. Izzimar cradled her in his arms, gently stroking her hair, hoping to elicit a response. "What are you doing, boy?" Birger inquired, settling on the floor beside them. "She opened her eyes; I thought perhaps stroking her hair might make her speak?" he responded, hopeful. Recognizing the girl's silence, Birger attempted to reach out. "Young one, can you hear me? Can you speak?" he whispered to her. Arjana glanced at him but remained silent, sighing before nestling back into Izzimar's comforting hold. Birger surveyed her delicate form, noting her exhaustion from the previous day's events. She seemed only capable of moving her eyes and breathing. "What happened yesterday? What was that all about? Will she recover?" Izzimar pressed, his questions cascading over Birger. "I sensed a presence of dread; was someone else here yesterday?" he added, gripping Arjana closer. "ENOUGH, IZZIMAR!" Birger's voice thundered, the room quivering. Taking a deep breath, Birger paced, muttering to himself. Izzimar exhaled sharply, refocusing on Arjana, silent yet consoling. As color crept back into her cheeks, a sign of recovery from her near demise, Izzimar embraced her firmly. "Arjana... I... I'm so sorry. I never intended for you to fall ill. I... I just wanted to show you the city," he murmured into her ear. Birger paused, overhearing Izzimar's confession. "You were eager about visiting a nearby town," he continued, his voice breaking. "I... I just wanted to see you happy. If you—"

A small chuckle escapes Birger, jolting Izzimar from his sorrowful reverie. “What are you laughing at, you old bastard!?” Izzimar snaps. Recognizing the inappropriateness of the moment, Birger raises his hands in surrender and averts his gaze. “Nothin', nothin'. However, I do have a... solution to our dilemma.” “And what might that be?” “We must leave the cabin; it's no longer safe here.” “We cannot abandon the cabin!” the young elf protests. “Do you realize how long it took to find a haven away from people?” “Izzimar, don't be naive! Didn't you sense what was lurking outside?” Birger exclaims. Izzimar falls silent, casting a glance at Arjana, then shudders. “If that creature is what I suspect, then we are in danger here.” Birger exhales deeply. Izzimar whimpers, carefully placing Arjana down, then collapses to the floor. He grasps his cane, slowly rises, and shuffles towards Birger’s voice. “Collect our belongings while we still have daylight.” “You've yet to tell us our destination. You're aware the Thornbrush family will reject me...” Izzimar murmurs. “Enough with the complaints; gather our possessions! I have a notion of where we'll head, but for now, make haste!” Birger insists. Frustrated, the young elf rises and heads to his room to pack. Alone with Arjana, Birger takes a book from the shelf and flips through it. He sits beside Arjana, sighs with relief, and tenderly strokes her hair. “There's good news... your illness should see significant improvement now,” he whispers to her. “Yet, I fear we're still not safe,” Birger adds, revealing a golden rune that glows brightly.