Two days pass in a blur.
We arrive in Quenstown beneath a sky that resembles a dying ember. The houses stand right at the edge of the sea—closer than where I grew up. My stomach tightens as I look at them.
"The one you are looking for is Mr. Oliver, correct?" the driver asks.
Rose nods. "Yes. Is it far, sir?"
I frown. "Have you forgotten where it is, Rose?" I ask.
"The last time I was here, I was only a child. All I remember are the hills, but we are still below them now. I have no idea exactly where it is," she replies.
The driver laughs. "Hahaha. So Oliver is your uncle, miss? With all due respect and pride, I am honored to be able to take you safely to meet Mr. Oliver."
"Is he really that famous? Why is that, sir?" Rose asks.
"Of course. He is a hero on this island. There is no one who does not know Mr. Oliver," the driver explains. "See that bar over there, miss?"
"They are celebrating even though it is already late, sir?" Rose asks.
"Just as I said, young master. It is full of joy and honor over there. Besides…"
We are almost there. "Finally, we have arrived, sir and miss."
The carriage stops in front of the busy bar. People are celebrating something—loud and bright.
"I am sorry, I would be truly ashamed if you refused this payment, sir. Please accept it," Rose says, handing the driver a pouch of gold.
The driver touches his chest. "The same goes for me, miss. It is with great sincerity that I was able to take you. Forgive me." With deep respect, he politely refuses.
Rose lowers her head. "Thank you for everything, sir."
"With humility, miss. Farewell!" The carriage turns and leaves us behind.
"It does not feel real, does it? We finally made it," Rose says. "Let's go inside."
Rose walks toward the bar. As soon as the door opens, a wave of sound spills out—laughter, clinking plates, drunken shouts. Faces glance at us briefly, then turn away again. We are no one to them.
Rose asks a man, "Where is Mr. Oliver?"
"Out back."
"We are going to meet my uncle."
Outside, smoke rises around a man sitting alone.
Rose stops. "Uncle?"
Oliver turns slowly, pauses, then stands to be sure. "Miss…?" He runs forward and hugs her.
"It has been so long since I last saw you, Uncle."
Oliver laughs loudly. "Ahakh, I was just thinking of coming to visit you lately. Was my timing perfect, hmm?"
He laughs—loud, warm, reckless.
They whisper. Then his attention turns to me.
He stands and walks over.
His hand rises to my face—gently holding my cheek.
"Is this really you?"
"Allow me to join your journey, young master." He bows, holding one of my hands in front of his chest.
"Please stand, sir. I would be embarrassed if you asked like that, Mr. Oliver," I say, touching his shoulder so he will not bow before me.
Oliver straightens. "Allow me, young master," he says, bowing again.
I nod, and Oliver smiles faintly.
Oliver looks at Rose as she steps closer. "I never thought you would truly fulfill your wish, miss," he says, ruffling her hair.
Oliver looks back at me. "Would you care to stay for a while, young master…"
---
The carriage arrives at the village in front of the bar. Yet there is something held back in Rose's expression.
She climbs into the carriage and we begin to move. Rose looks at Oliver. "Why did you not tell them, Uncle?"
"I wanted to surprise them, miss. So, when will you be leaving again?" Oliver asks me.
I smile faintly. "That is not my decision. Rose decides," I reply.
Rose smiles faintly as well. "We cannot stay here long, Uncle. He may already be in the newspapers. Many are looking for him. His magic has returned, Uncle. I think you are the one who must decide when we leave."
Oliver looks at Rose for a moment.
"Very well. I do not wish to put Quenstown at risk. Do we have a map?"
Rose hands him the map. "Has my weapon been prepared, Uncle?" she asks.
"The weapon you have wanted since you were a child? Have you trained with it?" Oliver asks, studying the map thoughtfully.
Rose nods eagerly. "I have studied it for years. I did not bring my own weapon—it is too old. Has it been prepared for me?" she asks excitedly.
Oliver laughs softly. "I would never forgive myself if I had not prepared it for you, miss. Of course I have." He looks at Rose for a moment, then returns his gaze to the map.
"Very well, I have decided. We will return to Zepharia, but only along the edges of the coast, and then cross the sea to Nimurelle."
Rose nods. "As you wish, Uncle. As long as my weapon is ready."
Oliver shakes his head. "You never change, miss. Still the same spoiled one I used to indulge."
When we reach the hill, the view before us is far more beautiful than anything we saw before.
Rose quickly steps out of the carriage. "Whoa… it feels like heaven, doesn't it…" she says in awe.
"I have not been here in a long time. Once again, I forgot what a view like this looks like, Uncle," she says to Oliver, who is paying the fare.
"Is that so, miss? I did not know you had forgotten it," he replies. The carriage begins to move again, descending the hill.
"I am sorry. After all, Uncle did not visit for so long, and now you bring me here."
Oliver nods. "Yes, yes. Come inside, miss. You are so particular," he says, leading us toward the house near the hill—the perfect place to stay and enjoy the view.
"Please, young master," Oliver invites.
I simply smile and follow behind them.
The door to the house opens, and the inside is not as dark as I expected. Moonlight spills into the room, along with oil lamps that light the main hall.
"So," Rose says, "where is my weapon, Uncle?"