The night air in Caelworth was still.
Crickets chirped in the grass. The moon hung low over the Mournshade Valley, its pale light casting silver across the rooftops. The warmth of the day had vanished, replaced by a gentle chill that curled into the wooden walls of the Wynhart home.
Eudora sat alone on the porch, legs pulled to his chest, his chin resting on his knees.
He hadn't spoken much after dinner.
Ragna had talked enough for both of them—laughing, boasting about how many laps he could do tomorrow, how he'd become a grand knight like Father, maybe even better. Kavel had simply nodded, offering advice between bites, occasionally glancing at Eudora with that same puzzled look.
Like he was trying to understand what had changed in his son.
But how could he?
How could any of them understand that Eudora had lived a life beyond this one? That he'd watched the world crumble and been powerless to stop it?
The laughter. The warmth. The food.
All of it felt like memories already, things fated to burn.
Eudora clenched his fists.
He wanted to scream. To cry. To tell them everything.
But he couldn't.
Not yet.
Behind him, the floorboards creaked.
He didn't turn.
Ragna sat beside him, quiet for once.
They sat in silence for a long time.
Then Ragna spoke, voice softer than usual. "You're not really alright, are you?"
Eudora looked at him.
His brother stared at the stars, arms folded behind his head, his expression unreadable.
"I don't know what's going on with you," Ragna continued. "But... you look like someone who's lost everything."
Eudora swallowed hard. "I did."
Ragna blinked, turning to him. "What?"
"Nothing," Eudora said quickly. "Just tired."
Ragna stared for a moment longer, then lay back on the porch. "Well... whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."
Eudora looked away. He didn't deserve that kindness.
Not again.
"I'm not strong like you," Eudora whispered.
"That's crap," Ragna replied instantly. "You might not be fast, or good with a sword yet, but... you always keep going. That's worth something."
Eudora's throat tightened. He had forgotten this part of Ragna—the part before pride and pain distorted him. The part that cared.
He stayed silent, not trusting his voice.
Ragna yawned. "I'm gonna beat you tomorrow. Just so you know."
Eudora smiled faintly. "We'll see."
The moon shifted behind a cloud, casting darkness over the porch.
But for the first time in a long time, Eudora didn't feel entirely alone.