The rain had finally eased, letting a thin gray light peek through the warped panes. Around Maeric’s bed, bloodied bandages lay scattered on the uneven floorboards.

Erith sat slouched beside Maeric, his face buried in his hands. The morning’s ride to the Morvathi camp felt like a lifetime ago.

A worn quilt was drawn tight over Maeric, leaving only his leg exposed. The sight of the pins pressed deep into his leg to hold the fractured bones in place twisted something in Erith’s chest.

Above the bed, a flask was hung over Maeric’s head. A droplet of water formed at the lip of the flask, and broke free, beading down his forelead.

It was hard to tell if Maeric was awake. His breathing was steady, but his stillness left Erith uncertain.

"If you're really going to throw your life away at this, then I'll find a way to drag you through it alive," whispered Erith.

His throat tightened and his eyes stung. He wiped his face on his sleeve and rose to his feet, leaving the room.

"They're in the other room." Amun leaned on an end-table in the hallway, a brush in hand and a bucket of red-tinged water at his feet, the sleeves of his shirt saturated with blood. "And try not to make a mess in there too. You're a pain to clean up after, you know."

The room opened wider than Erith expected, a narrow bed tucked into one corner and a loft built overhead.

Four well-worn but comfortable chairs surrounded a low table near a crackling fireplace. Rin sat in one, with an older woman beside him. Her blonde hair, streaked with gray, was tied loosely over one shoulder, where it brushed against the edge of an ornate shawl draped around her.

Her lips curved into a faint, welcoming smile. "Erith, dear. Please, come sit. Eat something." She gestured toward a plate of dried jerky on the table. "Had I known I'd be entertaining such unexpected company, I might have prepared something finer. But we make do."

Fresh bandages were wrapped across Rin's torso beneath his loosened shirt. He gave Erith a small nod of reassurance. Erith stepped further into the room and took a seat opposite the woman, arms folded across his chest.

"My son and I were catching up—it's been a few years. Yet I'll admit, today's tale has a way of making the years vanish." She spoke casually, but the way her sharp eyes lingered on Erith made it clear she wasn't simply making small talk.

The woman picked up a piece of jerky from the table and bit into it. "I assure you the food is simply food. No tricks. You must be starved after the day you've had."

She folded her hands across her lap. "I'm Rhymera Varsk, proprietor of Spindle Hall. For what you've done for my son, you have my gratitude. Maeric will need time to heal before he can stand on his own again, and I'll make sure he has that time under this roof."

"Now, I understand that you can sense Kaida. That's quite... peculiar." An edge of curiosity threaded through her words.

Her gaze swept across the room before settling back on him. "Tell me, dear—what is it you sense right now?"

Unease sank into Erith under her expectant stare. He exhaled a shallow breath and closed his eyes.

The sensation struck immediately. Vast. Overwhelming. He flinched and snapped his eyes back open.

Rhymera's expression didn't waver, waiting for Erith's reaction.

"A prison to keep me in?" he muttered after a pause, his voice quieter than he intended. Kaida thrummed so dense in the room that his Mura would dissipate the moment it left his body. 

She grinned, calm yet satisfied, as she reached into her pocket, retrieving a milky-white, ornately carved Kaida gemstone.

"This gem is an exceptional piece. It emits Kaida in a controlled sphere rather than simply spilling outward—elegant craftsmanship, wouldn’t you say? They're exceedingly rare, but invaluable when navigating lands thick with Murasi."

Rhymera set the gem on the table. "For someone who can sense Kaida, I imagine this must be... quite noisy. And for someone who can wield Mura, well—perhaps this keeps us on even footing."

Her eyes locked onto Erith, unwavering. "Spindle Hall has long thrived on secrets and whispers, my dear. You've done well to keep yours close, and perhaps it's in both our best interests to keep it that way. I'll assume you intend to stay while Maeric recovers?"

Erith's eyes met Rin's, who was intently watching the conversation unfold. He turned back to Rhymera. "You could trade me for anything you want. Why should I believe you won't?"

"Desire is a peculiar thing, isn't it?" She spoke with a calm introspection. "People speak of it endlessly, chase after their dreams of it, yet rarely recognize it when it brushes past them."

She let her words hang in the air before continuing. "Did you sense anything else in the noise?"

A thin wooden box sat atop the table, humming with the familiar melody of Mura. Rhymera reached forward, carefully lifting the lid, revealing a thin, needle like object with a circular hilt inside.

His brow furrowed as he studied the artifact. "A Murath?"

"Yes," a trace of satisfaction carried in her tone. "Though it’s not just simply an object imbued with Mura. In Loradun, this is how they’ve conducted the Balance for quite some time."

Her tone shifted slightly, almost casual, as she gestured toward him. "Please, unbutton your shirt."

Confusion flickered across his face, caught off guard by the request.

"This Murath provides a means to better control the amount of Mura introduced to the body," she continued. "Balancing is chaotic—an art of precision. The right level of Mura matched with the right level of Kaida."

Erith's fingers hovered over the top buttons of his shirt before unfastening them. Rhymera tilted forward slightly, her eyes fixed intently on his chest. Erith glanced down, his fingers brushing over the faint circular mark etched above his heart—a mark he'd never thought much of, until now.

"Drawing Kaida into the body alone can kill, but failing to balance it with the right amount of Mura..." Her voice trailed off. "Well, that's what ends most."

Rhymera reached for the gem, turning it thoughtfully in her hand. "An older gentleman used to stop by now and then, spinning tales of his travels over a drink... the tales he'd tell of this world," she trailed off with a nostalgic warmth.

"The last time I saw him was a little before the drought. Only, that time, he wasn't alone—he had a young boy with him."

She paused, her eyes momentarily distant before refocusing on Erith. "He let me in on a secret. Said age was catching up to him. Planned to settle down, raise the boy on a farm, and leave the road behind. Before he left, he entrusted me with this Murath and disappeared."

Her voice trailed off, turning the gem in her hand once more. "I wondered, in the back of my mind, if I'd ever see either of them again."

Erith hesitated, memories he hadn't revisited in years stirred. "I only knew him as Thatch. Don't even know if the old man's still alive—or where that farm even was. I just remember... it was a long ride to Aldasi. He brought me to join the Adoses Academy."

"You said you were a stray," Rin interjected, breaking from his quiet awe of the conversation.

"I was," Erith admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "Ran away from the Academy the first day he dropped me off there. I joined a year later."

"They let you in? A runaway?" Rin asked, incredulous.

Erith shrugged. "They seemed to think surviving the streets of Aldasi for that long meant something."

Rhymera's eyes flicked between the two before settling on Erith. "It seems I’ve kept your secrets for some time now, and my desire is to continue doing so. You're welcome to stay, dear. But you'll need to pull your weight—my Moonsie will appreciate the help."

Her voice was gentle, yet carried an unshakable weight. "You aim to help Maeric through the Balance?"

Erith nodded, his expression resolute.

Rhymera paused, studying him for a moment, then gave a faint smile as she pushed the wooden box toward him.

"Under different circumstances, I'd laugh it off as a foolish venture... In these times, perhaps we must all take a gamble."

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