When I reached the dining table, Eron was already there, talking with Mom while the faint hum of the oven filled the room.
Her voice carried that familiar teasing warmth.
"Tell me, Eron," she said, ladling soup into his bowl, "how much time have you spent chasing all those languages and survival tricks?"
Eron smiled modestly. "It was part of my agency's special training. A requirement before joining."
I leaned forward. "And how much did it cost?"
He rubbed his neck. "About ten thousand dollars. My father had left money in an insurance plan — scheduled so I'd receive it right when I needed it."
Mom raised an eyebrow. "That much? Do you still need more, son?"
He shook his head. "No, Mom. Dad planned it all before he passed."
I couldn't resist. "So which skills and languages did you master?"
"All top ten languages," he said. "And for skills — mostly survival and practical use. Things that help you live when everything else fails."
Mom turned to me with a smirk. "Hear that, Ryn? Learn something from him. Four years and he's turned into a walking encyclopedia, while you're busy turning holidays into hibernation."
"Moooom!" I groaned. "Then let's make a bet. Tomorrow my school's taking the revision test for holiday work. If I score full marks, you'll lend me the money to buy a laptop of my choice!"
She chuckled. "Deal — but only if you get full marks."
Eron leaned back, grinning. "That's my Astro boy — always aiming for the stars. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Mom laughed. "It's alright, Skilly Wanderer."
I grinned. "I'd rather call him Vale-Talk."
"Hey!" Eron protested. "Even you, Ryn?"
"Enough, you two," Mom interrupted. "Or Mira and I will start betting on who survives longer. Speaking of which — how's your sister, Eron?"
"She's fine," he said softly. "Living happily with her husband now."
"That's wonderful." Mom smiled. "Ryn, did you set up a bed for Eron in your room?"
I froze. "Wait, is he sleeping with me?"
"Is that a problem?"
"N-no, not at all," I said quickly — though my thoughts whispered, Great. There goes my midnight research.
After dinner, I rearranged the beds into a double-deck. Eron took the lower one.
An hour passed, and he still wasn't asleep — eyes open, thoughts wandering.
I leaned over and tugged his cheek. "You should sleep."
He blinked up. "You should sleep, Ryn."
A pillow struck my face. I retaliated instantly.
The quiet night erupted into WW99: The Pillow War.
Feathers, laughter, and mock fury filled the air until —
The door creaked open.
Mira stood there, arms folded. "Brothers … is this worth Mama's attention?"
Eron and I froze mid-swing. "N-no! Don't, Mira! Aren't we your good brothers?"
She tilted her head. "No!"
I glanced at Eron. "Plan Two?"
He nodded. "Plan Two."
Mira squinted. "What plan?"
We dropped to our knees dramatically. "Our Queen, spare us! Command us as you wish!"
Her stern face cracked into a giggle. "Come with me and see Mira's star!"
"Let's gooo!" we shouted in unison.
(Nice save. We almost got executed.)
At the window, she pointed upward.
"See, brother? My star's shining brightly tonight."
I smiled and adjusted the telescope for her, but my gaze drifted to the desk beside it — the metal jar and the small water bottle we'd used earlier.
A chill ran down my spine.
The stones inside had lost all color, their once-luminous surfaces now dull and gray.
The water level had dropped, almost as if it had been drunk by the air itself.
For a moment, the faintest ripple quivered across the surface, like the heartbeat of something trying not to be noticed.
I blinked, unsure whether it was my imagination or the reflection of starlight through the window.
Mira tugged my sleeve, pulling me back.
"See, brother?" she repeated softly. "It's really shining."
I forced a smile. "Yeah … it really is."
I looked at Eron. "What were you thinking back there before I hit you?"
He exhaled slowly. "Just remembering my parents … the accident. It still hurts, but I'm happy. Your family gave me one again."
I smiled faintly. "Then remember this — your last pillow hit is still my debt."
Mira puffed her cheeks. "How dare you ignore your queen! I shall inform the —"
"Forgive us, Your Highness!" we chorused.
She grinned. "Forgiven. Now the Queen departs. Both of you should sleep too."
"Yes, Your Majesty," we said, saluting.
Later, I lay in bed, quietly scrolling through my phone.
Tomorrow's test hovered in my mind, but my eyes were heavy.
I set the alarm for five a.m. — just enough time to revise and maybe watch the dawn.
As I placed the phone beside me, a muffled voice rose from the lower bed.
"Set it one minute earlier," Eron muttered. "You always snooze it five times."
I laughed softly. "You've known me too long."
"And you still wake up late," he teased. "Astro boy aiming for the stars, but can't reach the alarm."
"Keep talking, Skilly Wanderer," I said, pulling the blanket over my face.
Silence lingered for a moment — comfortable, familiar.
Then, without warning — thump! A pillow struck again.
"You should sleep, Ryn!"
"Eron —!"
And just like that, WW99 resumed for a brief encore, laughter echoing through the house.
Mira's muffled voice called from her room, "Mamaaa, they're at it again!"
Mom's tired reply followed, amused, "Let them. That's the sound of brothers who still know joy."
Eventually, the house quieted.
I turned to the window, stars glimmering faintly.
Sleep pulled me under like a tide — gentle, inevitable.
I opened my eyes to a world unknown.
A sting — sharp, like a pin — then pain.
A sword had pierced through my chest and limbs.
Eight figures surrounded me, faces blurred by light, yet their grief burned clear.
My heart pounded. My breath failed.
Why was I here?
And why couldn't I remember how it began?