The silence in the room felt thick and heavy, like a weight pressing down on everything. Lucid sat completely still, his mind struggling to catch up. To him, the weight of Rebecca's words felt enormous, as serious and startling as if someone had just confessed their deepest feelings for him. He tried to picture it... staying here, at this quiet tavern, working day after day. The idea of a future here, with an older coworker who had so clearly taken a liking to him, left him deeply confused. Her statement from earlier, that simple 'I need you,' now seemed to be the final, unmistakable point of it all.
'Could it really be that I made such an impression on her?' he thought, his inner voice practically shouting inside his skull. 'Maybe Alice had a point about something after all... I was so sure she was just talking nonsense.'
"I... thank you.. I still need time to think about it." He said shakily but with genuine care.
Rebecca reached out and took his hand, drawing it gently toward her. It was a gesture of connection, something solid and real. Both of his hands were now wrapped in her soft, warm palms, her fingers applying a light, steady pressure. It was... warm. The simple warmth of her touch sent a tremor through his chest. His heart was pounding so hard he felt it might burst right out of him. On the outside, Lucid was just flustered, but inside, he was screaming. A faint, fluttering sensation stirred in his stomach. Were those butterflies? The idea felt more strange and foreign than any thought he'd ever had. A part of him wanted to pull his hand back, to create some space, but he felt utterly drained, too worn out to move. And, if he was honest, a small, hidden part of him was enjoying this tiny moment of affection. It felt warm, and for just a second, it made him feel safe in a world that was usually so ruthless and cruel.
Finally, she let his hand go. He thought he saw a faint blush on her cheeks, but it was hard to tell. She quickly turned her attention to the medical kit on the table, her movements becoming very precise and careful, as if focusing on a complicated task. She did not look at him.
"Ahem... sorry," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "I have a habit of being overly touchy sometimes. It's just my way of showing gratitude."
"Haha... don't worry about it," he replied with a weak, cheap laugh, that strange feeling still lingering deep in his stomach.
"I... you don't have to stay here," she said. Her professional tone was gone now, replaced by something softer, something that sounded raw and unfiltered, like pure sincerity. "But you can always consider it an option. If you ever find yourself lost... I am here. This tavern is here. You have somewhere to return to."
"I'll... keep that in mind," he said slowly, the words feeling awkward and unsure as he muttered them in a low tone.
"Let's get you cleaned up properly," she said, her voice gentler than before. "You can't stay covered in dirt and blood. You'll scare the patrons, and you'll risk an infection."
He didn't argue. The last of his energy was gone, leaving behind only a hollow ache and deep tiredness. As she began to carefully clean the deep gash on his collarbone with a damp cloth and a stinging solution that smelled of herbs, he sat in silence. Her touch was both gentle and methodical. She was surprisingly strong for her slender frame, holding him steady whenever he flinched. The quiet closeness of the moment, her complete focus on taking care of him, became a strange anchor in the swirling mess of his thoughts.
It reminded him, with a painful clarity, of Alice. Not her voice, but her presence—that feeling of being watched over in the endless void, of a compassion that had felt limitless even when he was fighting against it. Rebecca's hands, warm and sure on his skin, brought back the ghostly sensation of those unseen arms trying to hold him back from harming himself. It was like a phantom embrace. A sharp pang of guilt made him wince.
"Did I hurt you?" Rebecca asked immediately, pausing her work.
"No," he mumbled. "Just... tired."
She nodded, her bovine ears giving a slight twitch. "You can rest here as long as you need to. The room you used before is still yours. There's no charge."
"That's too much!" he said, his voice louder than he intended.
Her ears perked up, and she tilted her head to the side, looking confused.
"I mean, you're running a business. You'd lose out on profits..."
Her expression softened. Her eyes grew gentle, her lips parted slightly as if she hadn't considered that thought, and then they curled into a warm smile.
"Silly you... there's no need. Tyriana's law practically requires me to help someone in your condition."
"And..." she continued, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer, "I have no objection to it."
But another thought was surfacing in his mind. He remembered his first days in this town, the time he spent in the library reading about its history. It seemed the settlement was founded long ago by demihumans and humans alike, people who had come from all corners of the scattered realms. They united under a simple principle: that one should help all, and all should help one. Thinking back to that trial, he wondered, why was this small, seemingly meager town fighting against such a large empire that had all the resources to crush them? For that matter, how was this very town still standing? The war he had participated in during that trial had taken place in the past. The question began to eat away at him until he finally spoke.
"Uhm... Rebecca, was there a war in the past between Tyriana and the Materna Empire?"
Rebecca looked at him, clearly puzzled and taken off guard by the sudden question, but she answered.
"Yes, there was... why do you ask?" she replied calmly.
Her answer confirmed his suspicion that the trial had been some kind of re-enactment of a past event, conjured up by the Sentrum Rift. He pressed on.
"So, what happened afterwards? Didn't the empire attack again?" he asked.
Rebecca let out a soft chuckle.
"Why the sudden interest in this town's history?" she mused.
"Well," she began, "Tyriana took a long time to recover from the damage the Materna Empire caused. The battle was brutal. So many of our people were slain. At the last minute, our numbers had dwindled to around twenty-five. It was our final stand, at our last piece of territory."
'Huh,' he thought. 'So the battle happened long before I even arrived here.'
"Mmm, well," she chuckled and continued, "I'm no historian, but from what I remember, the rebel army of Tyriana was nearly massacred. Only our leader remained. But just as they were about to be killed, support arrived from the Kingdom of Vex."
'Oh,' Lucid thought. 'So if I had just let things be, they would have come out on top anyway?'
"Our great leader who lead the rebel group is the one represented by the statue in the fountain," she said, pausing, unsure of herself but managing to recall most of the story. "It stands for bravery, compassion, and strength in unity."
"Well, that's about as much as I know. Any other details, I'm afraid you'll have to ask someone else," she said under her breath, sounding shy, as if she was about to be judged for not knowing more.
Lucid looked out the window, now deep in thought. He had many more questions, but none had easy answers.
"No, that's enough," he said, nodding with genuine appreciation. "Thank you, once again."
Rebecca held her hands together just over her chest. Her bovine ears perked up a little, and she parted her lips as if she had just been rewarded for doing a good deed.
She nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face. "Y-you are so..." she stuttered, unable to complete the phrase.
Lucid managed a tired smile of his own. Moving with slow, deliberate care, he raised himself from the chair. Rebecca's face briefly showed a flash of worry, but it calmed when he seemed steady enough.
"I'm going to take a bath now... is that alright?"
"Y-yes, of course," she said hurriedly, nodding her head with speed.
Sometime later he stepped into the prepared bath, his legs sinking into the warm water first, followed slowly by the rest of his body. He let out one long, heartfelt sigh. It was a sound of pure relief. The heat soaked into his tired muscles, and his body relaxed in ways he didn't think were possible anymore.
"What an amazing... way to end the day," he whispered to the empty room.
In the solitude, his mind began to wander. The warm water reminded him of Alice, of her warm embrace when she healed him or enhanced his abilities. It was a different kind of warmth—not just like soaking in a tub after a long day, but as if a comforting presence was enveloping his entire body, seeping into his muscles and bones to strengthen them. He couldn't quite find the words for it, but it had felt like, with her, he could have taken on the whole world. Thinking of it now, Lucid felt a wave of guilt for how harshly he had acted toward her. But to him, the core issue wasn't that she had killed a conjured person with his own hands. It was that she had crossed a line by controlling his entire body. He hated that. He hated the idea that she could read his mind, and to make it worse, that she could have moved his body and made him do things against his will. And yet, he couldn't forget the good things Alice had done. Her healing, her enhancements... all of it was a constant reminder that he was only alive because of her.
"Hey Alice..." he called out in a low tone.