The morning after

The night turned into day as quickly as the sun had disappeared, time seeming to have not moved at all from the evening to morning as the group slept at the inn.

Corvin twisted and turned in his bed, the wooden frame creaking under his weight. Beside him on the floor, Sai lay still on a thin blanket, eyes shut though it was hard to tell whether he slept or simply rested. Sunlight cut through the shutters, striping the room with pale gold.

“Are you awake?” Corvin finally muttered.

“Yes.” Sai’s voice was calm, steady, as if he’d been waiting for the question.

“Good. Then maybe you can explain how the hell we’re still alive.” Corvin rolled onto his side, squinting down at him. “One day I’m ready to hang, the next we’re sleeping in a bed like nothing happened.”

Sai opened his eyes but didn’t sit up. “You are in a bed… And we are alive because Dex intervened. And because Gladius allowed it.”

“Allowed it?” Corvin scoffed. “You make it sound like he had a choice. He looked ready to hang Dex next to me.”

Sai shrugged. “But he didn’t. That means he has his reasons. Whatever he’s playing at, it seems Dex is an important pieces on the board.”

Corvin sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “You say that like it’s supposed to make me feel better. I mean all pieces get sacrificed in the end.”

Sai didn’t answer. His silence was enough.

Across the hall, Mira stirred awake to the sound of soft humming. Eira sat at the small desk by the window, braiding her hair in the morning light.

“You’re up early,” Mira said, voice groggy.

Eira smiled faintly without looking over. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too much on my mind.”

Mira stretched, wincing at the stiffness in her back. “Same.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed her arms, staring at the floorboards. The quiet of the room felt fragile, like the calm before a storm.

Eira tied off her braid and glanced back. “You were mumbling in your sleep again.”

Mira’s head jerked up. “I—what did I say?”

“Nothing clear. Just words. Maybe names.” Eira’s voice softened. “It’s alright. I have nightmares too.”

Mira exhaled slowly, tension easing. “Right. Nightmares.”

But it wasn’t always just dreams. She thought of the flickers she’d seen, shadows stretched too long, too sharp. Gladius’s presence was never far, even now. She didn’t tell Eira. Not yet.

By midday, they all gathered in the inn’s common room. A fire burned low in the hearth, its warmth chased by the smell of cooking oats. A few locals sat at tables, trading gossip over mugs of thin ale.

Corvin leaned back in his chair, arms stretched. “You know, if every morning started like this, I’d almost forgive the universe for trying to kill me yesterday.”

Sai sat beside him, methodically sharpening a small knife he had gotten from the common rooms bar along with a loaf of bread. “Don’t get comfortable. We don’t belong here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Corvin waved him off. “You’re like a bucket of cold water every time I start to enjoy myself.”

Across the table, Eira picked at her food while Mira watched the room. She caught it again—just for a heartbeat. A figure leaning against the far wall, head bowed, a grin carved too wide. She blinked, and it was gone. Only empty stone remained.

Her stomach twisted.

“You’re quiet,” Eira said softly, nudging her.

Mira forced a smile. “Just tired.”

Corvin snorted. “Tired? We just slept in real beds. First time in days. I’m practically reborn.”

“Then maybe you should do something useful with that energy,” Sai said without looking up.

Corvin groaned. “There he goes again. Useful this, strategy that. Sai, one day you’re going to wake up and realize you never had any fun.”

“I don’t need fun. Maybe i also NEED to sleep in a real bed instead of the floor.”

The words landed Mira and Eira took his clearly tired response serious. Even Corvin didn’t have a retort.

The hours slipped by. They lingered in the inn, talking in fits and starts, occasionally lapsing into uneasy silence. The world outside the shuttered windows moved on without them—footsteps in the street, merchants calling to one another, children laughing as they chased each other past the inn’s door.

Mira rose once to fetch water. As she crossed the hall, her eyes caught a shadow that didn’t belong, stretched across the floor in the shape of hands reaching toward her feet. She froze, throat tight.

Then a patron opened the door, flooding the room with sunlight, and the shadow vanished.

She didn’t speak of it.

By late afternoon, Sai finally pocketed his knife. “We’ve stayed long enough. Dex will expect us.”

Eira stood, smoothing her clothing, while Corvin groaned dramatically but followed. Mira gathered her things last, glancing one final time at the corners of the room. Empty.

Still, the feeling lingered. The sense of being watched.

They left the inn together, the heavy door shutting behind them with a wooden thud.

Outside, the town awaited.