Warm Meals and Cold Walls

The inn wasn’t much to look at—just a wooden building with a crooked sign that read The Lantern Rest. But after two days in the woods, a fire and a meal felt like luxury.

We stepped inside. The place smelled like roasted meat and stale ale, and the creaky floorboards groaned with every step. A few tired-looking villagers sat around small wooden tables, talking quietly. Most of them gave us side glances. Some looked grateful. Others… wary.

“Cozy,” I muttered, brushing off some ash from my cloak.

Ari didn’t respond. She just walked over to an empty table near the fireplace and sat down, still hooded.

A thick woman in an apron waddled over. “You must be the ones who killed the beast,” she said, placing two steaming bowls of stew on the table. “This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” I said. My stomach growled like it wanted to fight the bowl for dominance.

I grabbed a spoon and dug in. It wasn’t amazing—but it was hot and filling. After a few bites, I leaned back in my chair, finally starting to feel like I wasn’t about to pass out.

Across from me, Ari stirred her bowl but hadn’t taken a bite.

“You not hungry?” I asked between mouthfuls.

She shrugged. “I eat when I feel like it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re human?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but there was the faintest twitch of a smirk. “Says the guy with a dragon soul screaming inside his sword.”

“…Fair.”

There was a long silence between us—one that wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. The kind where both people are thinking the same thing but neither wants to say it first.

Eventually, I broke it.

“Back there… you saved my ass. Again.”

“You’ve got a habit of needing that,” she said flatly.

I chuckled, but then I turned serious. “No, really. Thanks. That thing would’ve torn me in half.”

Her eyes softened just a little. “You wouldn’t have died. Not yet.”

“Comforting,” I said dryly. “So, what’s your story anyway? You talk like a warrior, cast magic like a mage, and keep dodging every personal question I ask.”

She looked into the fire for a while before answering.

“I wasn’t always a traveler,” she said. “I knew some of the other wielders personally. Learned things most people aren't supposed to know.”

“Like the sword?”

She nodded slowly. “And the prophecy. The council. All of it.”

I leaned forward. “So why leave?”

Ari’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Because the people isn’t what it used to be. The capital is… rotten. And I don’t trust anyone who lives there.”

I stared at her, unsure what to say. I could feel there was more, but she wasn’t ready to tell it.

Instead, I changed the subject. “So… you don’t think I’m ready, do you?”

She met my eyes. “No. You’re not. But you’re getting there.”

That hit harder than I expected. I looked down at the scar on my chest, still faintly aching even after her healing.

“I didn’t ask for any of this, you know.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “None of us did.”

We sat in silence again, letting the fire crackle and pop.

“Hey,” I said after a while. “If this prophecy thing is real… if we really do find the other wielders… do you think we’ll actually save the kingdom?”

Ari didn’t answer right away. Then finally:

“I don’t know. But if we don’t try, everything burns.”

I looked at my half-finished stew, suddenly not very hungry.

“Guess that means we leave tomorrow.”

She nodded.