That morning, the wind still carried the chill from the north, though the sun had begun to peek through thin clouds. We stood before that wooden house—the place that had been both a refuge and a witness to our wounds and our healing. The doctor, Albert, looked at us with a calm smile, like someone long accustomed to farewells.
"I'm grateful… for everything, Doctor," I said softly. My voice was nearly drowned by the rustle of the wind.
He gave a small nod, then looked toward the valley. "I want to join you. But… I can't."
I looked at him, hoping he was only joking. "Why?"
"This village needs a guardian," he replied quietly. "If I leave… who will care for them when the storm returns?"
I fell silent. I had no words left. There was no argument strong enough to counter such devotion.
Zeco, standing beside me with bandages still wrapped around his arm, merely bowed his head. Charlotte and Carla stepped forward, each shaking his hand, hugging him, whispering their thanks in a language only the heart could understand.
And then, we left.
Clear skies accompanied our descent down the hill. The snow that once encased our world had given way to fresh green grass, swaying gently as if nodding at passing travelers. Carla and Charlotte's laughter echoed as we began talking about silly things—about Zeco's nightmares, about my snoring, about how Charlotte hugged her pillow while sleep-talking.
For a moment, it felt like the world belonged to just the five of us. But Zeco's demeanor began to change after hearing the news in that newspaper. Carla had noticed it from the start. Yet Charlotte and Hiro's antics masked it, and Carla herself worked to keep it hidden from Hiro.
Finally, like a miracle promised by the southern sky, we arrived at Rauðvík—the village at the edge of light. The place looked like a painting forgotten to be framed. Towering green cliffs stood as sentinels, sheltering turf-roofed houses that seemed to grow from the earth itself. A salty breeze blew in from the sea, bringing with it the scent of smoked fish and freedom.
I dismounted, gazing around. "This… is completely different."
Uncle was the last to get down. He glanced in my direction, as if wanting to say something. But before I could catch his eyes, he turned away with a sigh.
"I know you want to pay," he said flatly. "But consider this… my penance for driving so recklessly that day."
I didn't respond. I simply walked to the back of the horse and quietly slipped a small pouch of gold coins into the supply chest. Maybe he would find it later. Maybe not.
Before leaving, he looked at us one last time. "Take care of yourselves, kids. The road to the south isn't as lovely as its skies."
"Thank you so much, Uncle." We responded in unison, bowing deeply in respect.
Then he left, his steps heavy yet certain, climbing back toward the northern trail. Leaving us behind, in the hush of the wind and the light of the new sun.
I turned to Carla.
"So…" I said, sweeping my gaze across the village, "what do we do now?"