Lysandra wasn't her usual self after hearing her mother's name. Her normally steady hands trembled, and a cold sweat dampened her collar. For someone to call her "mother"—confusing her for her mother—meant that he truly knew her mother, since they looked exactly alike. The resemblance was uncanny—the same azure eyes, the same high cheekbones, even the same dimple when they smiled. However, she had no memory of this injured gladiator, nor had her parents ever mentioned him. His bloodshot eyes had stared at her with such desperate recognition that it unsettled her to her core.

  Her unstable condition wasn't related to him, to be honest. It was just that the way she was living now had made her forget about her parents. The comfortable routine of her daily life had slowly erased the sharp pangs of their absence. But Breeze didn't just make her remember them; he also made her consciousness ache with the realization that he was more grief-stricken about her parents than she was. His voice had cracked with raw emotion when he'd spoken. Logically, he had to be more desperate to find them, given the way he had lived and the condition he was in now—scarred body, calloused hands, and haunted eyes that had seen too much death. Yet Lysandra still couldn't accept that someone else cared more about her parents than she did. The guilt of it gnawed at her insides like a hungry rat.

  After washing her face with cold water that stung her heated cheeks and sitting on a sturdy wooden bench in the courtyard to breathe in the fresh air, she felt slightly calmer with Mina by her side. The solid planks held their weight firmly, showing the strength of well-crafted wood. She kept staring at the passing clouds drifting across the vast sky—puffy white formations against an endless blue canvas, pushed gently by a breeze she could feel cooling her flushed skin. Her parents were under one of those clouds, bathed in golden sunlight—but where? She couldn't speak to the clouds to ask, nor could she communicate with the sun or its light that dappled the courtyard stones with shifting patterns. All she could do was live her life, The seconds ticked away, accompanied by the rhythmic chirping of birds on the nearby elm. Maybe one day, like this melodical chirps, news of them would reach her ears without her having to do a thing.

  "You see, Mina, my eyes are blue, they are the same as this sky." She pointed to her irises, the color of deep water under noon light. "However, my vision can't be as wide as this sky. I feel pain burning me, knowing that I'm living a good life while my parents are in an unknown condition." Her voice caught on the last word, and she bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

  Mina kept listening to her attentively, her warm hand resting on Lysandra's forearm, giving her the chance to speak her pain out. Birds called to each other from the courtyard walls, and the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer provided a steady rhythm to their silence. After a few moments of quiet, realizing that she wouldn't speak more, Mina said, "Humans are weak creatures. However and whatever we do, we will always remain weak. We can't change our situation alone." Her voice was soft but carried the weight of someone who had seen much suffering. "We also fear the unknown, the same unknown condition your parents are in right now. Who knows? Maybe they are living a better life than us, and they are waiting for the day you all reunite. Your sadness won't change anything." She plucked a fallen leaf from Lysandra's shoulder, twirling it between her fingers. "All we can do is pray for their well-being, that's all. And look at the bright side: this gladiator guy—probably he is your long-lost brother that you never knew existed. If so, doesn't that make him part of your family?"

  Lysandra raised her knees to her chest level, the fabric of her dress pulling tight across her shins, with her arms holding her legs, and her head turned to Mina's direction. The scent of lavender from Mina's clothes provided a comforting familiarity. She said, "I don't know. I can't instantly accept someone who appeared suddenly, calling me mother, then turned out to be my brother that easily." The words fell from her lips sarcastically.

  Mina giggled, the sound light and musical against the backdrop of rustling leaves. Lysandra responded with a smile, her lips curving reluctantly, then she continued, "I think of you as my older sister, both Ivar and Jasper as my brothers—even though Jasper is my master. The way he treated us makes me feel that we are really family. As for this guy, I still can't accept it." She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, unraveling it slowly.

  "We have to know if he is your brother or not first. Then, with time, everything turns for the best. You can see how desperate he was when he saw you, seeing his mother in you. He even stood up with all those injuries, his bandages soaking through with fresh blood. Someone like that..." Mina's eyes grew distant, looking past the courtyard walls to something only she could see. "Someone like that will surely give up his life for his family's sake."

  Mina put her arm on the opposite shoulder of Lysandra, grabbing her closer to her. The warmth of their bodies pressed together provided comfort against the cooling afternoon air.

  ***

  In a refined room that smelled of herbal poultices and alchohol, Jasper and Ivar stayed with the unconscious Breeze, exchanging gazes in silence until Ivar again broke the silence with his remarks: "That was hard-to-find drama, right, master?" His voice echoed slightly in the sparse chamber, where only a bed, a small table with medical supplies, and two stools furnished the space.

  Jasper didn't answer him. His eyes shifted to the lying-down man, whose chest rose and fell with labored breaths, then turned back to Ivar. Jasper's fingers drummed against his knee, creating a quiet rhythm. "What is drama?"

  "Beats me," Ivar instantly responded, shrugging his broad shoulders that strained against the seams of his shirt.

  Sigh! The sound escaped Jasper's lips and dispersed into the stuffy air.

  "I wish to start the sales as fast as I can, but life is full of events." Jasper leaned forward, his stool creaking under his weight. "Hey, Ivar, don't you think this guy's face is a good way for us to promote our products?" He gestured toward Breeze's face, which even in unconsciousness bore the handsome features that had once made him a crowd favorite in the arena.

  "I do think so." Ivar stroked his chin thoughtfully, the stubble making a scratching sound against his calloused fingers. "However, my face is also good to promote the products too." He puffed his chest out, extending his neck to show how charming his face.

  "Okay, so we agree this is the one we need for now." Jasper nodded decisively, the shadows dancing across his face with the movement.

  "Yes, but my..."

  "My job is done here. Tell me once he wakes up." Jasper stood up to leave the room, the floorboards groaning beneath his boots, then he stopped at the threshold where dust motes danced in the shaft of light from the hallway. "The products aren't for men's use. He will only be the one to grab the noble women's attention. Your face will make us sell less while mine will make our products get banned, so don't give me that face." He said what he said, then got out of the room, his footsteps fading down the corridor.

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk." Ivar clicked his tongue against his teeth, creating sharp little sounds in the quiet room. "I have to do something to ruin this sleeping beauty's face before he wakes up, or I will lose my shining spot here." His hand hovered mockingly over Breeze's face, casting a shadow across the injured man's features.

  "Don't you dare do anything to him. Also, don't worry - no one will take that spot from you," Jasper's voice boomed from outside, causing Ivar to jump and knock his knee against the bed frame with a painful thud.

  With his eyes focused on Breeze, he said while rubbing his bruised knee:

  "Lucky you, I got caught red-handed. Well, at least my spot is still mine," puffing his chest, not realizing Jasper's mocking tone. The scent of medicinal herbs grew stronger as the breeze from the small window stirred the bandages drying on the nearby rack.

  ...

  Nearly two candle burns later, as the room darkened with the setting sun casting long shadows across the walls, Breeze's eyes twitched and slowly opened. The lids felt heavy, as if weighted with lead. His vision fixed on a silhouette beside him, just a dark shape against the dim light. He was expecting a small stature, but he was met with a huge one, broad-shouldered and towering even while seated.

  "Why is it you?" Breeze asked, his voice raspy from disuse, his face still looking sleepy and disoriented. His throat felt like sandpaper, and his lips were cracked and dry.

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  "Why not me, you ungrateful..." Ivar's voice boomed in the spaced room, his massive form blocking what little light remained in the room. "I probably should suffocate you to death while I still can." He brandished a pillow menacingly, the feathers inside rustling softly.

  "Argh, sorry, I didn't mean it that way." Breeze winced as pain shot through his ribs when he tried to shift position. The straw mattress crackled beneath him. "Where is mo... I mean the girl that looks like mother." His fingers clutched at the rough blanket covering him, the wool scratching against his calloused palms.

  Ivar took a deep breath that expanded his chest like a bellows, then stood up. "Just stay there and don't move or jump like you did before. I'll call everyone." His boots thudded heavily on the wooden floor as he moved toward the door.

  "Thank you." Breeze's words were barely audible, a whisper in the growing darkness.

  "Whatever," Ivar responded, smiling as he passed through the doorway, the hinges squeaking as he pulled the door open.

  A few moments later, the sound of multiple footsteps approached, growing louder until everyone entered the room with Lysandra entering last. The scent of medical drugs clung to her clothes—aromatic herbs and nostalgic scent of nature. When he saw her, silhouetted in the doorway with the last rays of sunlight catching in her hair, his tears instantly fell, hot and unexpected down his cheeks. "Get yourself together, man. We can't afford you to pass out again. Control your emotions," Jasper said while knowing how hard it is for someone to hold his emotions. He placed a firm hand on Breeze's shoulder, the touch both restraining and comforting.

  "I'm sorry." Breeze wiped roughly at his face with the back of his hand, leaving red streaks where he'd rubbed too hard. "I have never cried once since I turned seven. However, whenever I see this girl's face, I lose control over my eyes." His voice cracked like thin ice underfoot, threatening to plunge him into deeper emotion.

  "I don't wish to bring up bad memories or tire you with questions, so can you tell us your story?" Jasper settled onto a stool that creaked under his weight, leaning forward with elbows on knees, his face illuminated by the freshly lit lamp that Mina had brought. The flame cast dancing shadows on the walls, making the small room seem alive with movement.

  "Yeah, I think you deserve to know..." Breeze swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in his throat.

  I was living in the Veiled Forest with my parents near the Baronie of Buck...

  Lysandra's hands quivered slightly, goosebumps rising on her arms despite the warmth of the room. The name of that place echoed in her ears, making her heart tremble.

  My parents were herbalists, or let's say they studied medicine. They were studying herbs, the human body, the monsters' bodies, and a lot of other things.

  As he spoke, The tone of his voice began to resonate with his story, sometimes rising and other times falling. his hands would have moved expressively, mimicking the careful work of sorting leaves and grinding powders if not for the painful injury.

  They started teaching me when I was 4 years old, but I was a bit of a troublemaker. They kept telling me not to leave the borders where they spread poison. They were using some poison to drive the monsters away from that area, a poison that targets the monsters and ignores the human.

  The memory of the bitter smell of those concoctions filled his nostrils even now.

  However, I was a stupid, stubborn kid who never listened. One day, when I was nearly 6 years old, I took the chance when my parents were focusing on their research and got out beyond the borders of the poison and went deep into the forest. I was excited as I experienced my first adventure, the dappled sunlight through the canopy creating patterns on the forest floor, but that excitement didn't last long. When I saw a group of goblins strolling, their green skin almost blending with the foliage, I slowly turned and escaped. They didn't notice me, their guttural voices growing distant. However, I ended up facing the Big Black Viper...

  "Talking about luck. Ouch!" Ivar cut off, gaining a pinch from Mina that left a small red mark on his muscular arm.

  I escaped with all my might and ended up far away from my home. I didn't know where I was. I kept moving and moving for 2 days and nights, my feet bleeding in my worn shoes, my stomach cramping with hunger. And when I thought I was dead, I stumbled upon a group of people. I asked them to help me, my voice small and desperate, but they ended up kidnapping me. They were bandits, smelling of sweat and smiling with yellow and dark teeth. They sold me to a slave trader, who sold me to the colosseum after he saw me beating someone who stole my food one day, my small fists connecting with surprising force, I was also surprised that I was strong even if you compare me to older boys. Anyway, there at the Colosseum, they forced a few slaves to drink some unknown liquid, viscous and foul-smelling, and asked them to train so hard. Some of them fell instantly dead after drinking it, their bodies convulsing on the dirt floor. After a period of time, they brought another batch of the same liquid and forced another group to drink it, and the same happened. One day, they did the same, and I was one of the group who had to drink. I can still taste its bitterness on my tongue sometimes. Fortunately or unfortunately, no one died, but that was the starting point of the insane training and the bloody fights.

  The room had grown completely still, the only sound the occasional pop from the lamp's flame and Breeze's increasingly ragged breathing as he relived his trauma.

  "Can I ask what your father's name is?" Lysandra asked, holding her hands tightly, her knuckles white with tension. She perched on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight.

  Lysander.

  The name fell from his lips like a stone into still water, creating ripples that changed everything.

  The name kept ringing in Lysandra's ears without stopping as her eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock, and her whole body started shaking. She repeatedly kept saying, "I'm sorry," her voice growing more frantic with each repetition. Breeze kept staring at her, not knowing how to respond, his own pain momentarily forgotten in the face of her distress.

  "I don't know where our parents are. One day they left me alone in the house and never came back. I don't know if they are dead or alive." Her words tumbled out broken and jagged, cutting the air between them.

  "So that's how things turned out!" Breeze's voice was soft with wonder. "When I saw you, I saw my mother, the warm and playful woman that I knew 18 years ago. It turned out it was my sister that I never knew I had." His hands reached for hers across the rough blanket, hesitating just inches away.

  Breeze closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling, where shadows from the lamp played across the wooden beams. "As much as I am sad and afraid that I will never see my parents again, I am elated that I'm not alone in this world. I have a sister now, who looks exactly like mother. Lysandra, while I don't know you well, I'm... Sniff!" He inhaled sharply, the sound wet with emotion. "Genuinely happy to have you here, that my family is still here in this world." His voice trembled like a leaf in a storm.

  Jasper stood up, the stool scraping against the floor. "I think it's better for us to let the both of them alone." Ivar and Mina stood up following Jasper, the floorboards creaking beneath their shifting weight, but the voice of the injured gladiator stopped them. "You don't need to do that." Jasper turned to see Breeze in response, his silhouette framed in the doorway.

  "You are my sister's family." Breeze struggled to sit up straighter, wincing as his wounds protested making him lay back again. "I consider you all as my family and benefactors. You don't need to leave. Not only did you save my life, you also gave me the reason to stand on my feet in this dark age. I thank God that my sister ended up with people like you." He pressed his hand to his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath his palm.

  Jasper turned to the other two and said, "Let's sit down, guys, while we are considered a family." He gestured to the remaining stools and the edge of the bed, inviting them back into the circle of warmth.

  They kept exchanging talks with each other for hours, opening their hearts to him as he did the same to them. The lamp burned low, casting longer shadows, and the night sounds—crickets chirping and the occasional hoot of an owl—provided a peaceful backdrop to their conversation.

  When they started feeling hungry, their stomachs growling audibly in the quiet room, Mina and Lysandra took their leave to prepare a heartwarming meal for the happy occasion. The scent of cooking meat and simmering herbs soon wafted through the cracks around the door, making mouths water in anticipation.

  "Okay, let's talk business now." Jasper leaned forward, his face monstrously serious in the dim light. "Hey Breeze, while I don't consider that I bought you, because you gained your freedom by your own hands, let me ask you: Will you consider working for me?" His direct gaze held Breeze's, steady and unflinching.

  "You don't need to ask to know the answer." Breeze's voice was stronger now, resonating with newfound purpose. "You helped me and my sister. I can't be that shameless to reject your offer. Also, my sister is here. Even if you didn't ask, I would have asked you to let me work for you to stay with my sister." He extended his hand, calloused and scarred, toward Jasper, who instantly grabbed it, knowing that every move of his muscle would pain him.

  "You know I'm a merchant and the master of this guild, so once you heal up, we will start our business. We have a lot of work to do." Jasper clasped Breeze's hand firmly, sealing their agreement. "While I prefer you to stay as a fighter with us to guard us if anything happens, in peaceful times you have to help us with the work. You can ask Ivar for anything related to the work." He nodded toward Ivar, who sat up straighter at the mention of his name.

  Breeze turned to Ivar, smiling. "I'll be in your care, brother." The word 'brother' hung in the air, new and precious.

  "Ahem, you don't need to worry. Your brother here will cover your back," Ivar said, smiling as he briefly hit his chest, the thump resonating in the small room. A new bond was forming, fragile as a spring sapling but with the potential to grow strong as an oak.

  Outside, the moonless night, spreading its dark shadows everywhere, hid the growing guild with its new champion who was still on the process of healing, hiding the gangs that are trying to unify the region; however, it couldn't hide the scent of the meal penetrating every corner of the building, warming their hearts before their stomachs.

  Jasper.

  Profession: A guild master.

  Coins: (100g)+ 9,499g 3250s 6b -1c