The morning was quiet.. too quiet.
The reason for it?
Bruce.
He decided to throw Vernon out of bed so early in the morning that Vernon didn't even have the time to eat breakfast, all because he decided it was a waste of time to sleep more.
"It's WAY too early for us to head out." Vernon groaned.
"Stop being lazy!" Bruce said whilst a hundred percent draining Vernon's energy.
"Bruce.. you are a walking anomaly."
Bruce scoffed, "We are nearly there anyway, stop complaining!."
The streets were silent, although their footsteps alone filled that silence in.
Aside from the occasional people leaving their home, and the guards patrolling with a still increased number.
The streets were empty.
Perhaps it was because it was the weekend? or maybe the fact that it was early, either way the silence and their footsteps filling that silence in made it slowly sink in.
The fact that this is truly the last day.
On the way to the location they said to meet at Vernon took in the scenery one last time, this time not analysing it.
Bruce pointed out some areas, Vernon thought about the cost and turned him down.
"Bruce." Vernon voiced.
Bruce stopped, "You sound sentimental all of a sudden."
Vernon scoffed but didn't deny.
"I'm thinking of leaving a dagger I've made whilst dad wasn't looking to Liralic."
Bruce stared, then went into deep thought.
"Well i dont think that is a bad idea.. But would dad approve of that?"
"No idea." Vernon said whilst avoiding a pot hole in the path.
As they approached the plaza they noticed it was more empty than they both originally thought.
Vernon gazed straight, "Alright Bruce. since you've had this genius idea of getting up so early what do you suggest we do now? When not even a single bakery is open to at least eat something."
Bruce stood there.. just stood and looked around, "Uhm.. you know it's been lively everyday since we got here even when it was really early... so i thought.." Bruce muttered.
Vernon didn't say anything - instead, he looked over Bruce's shoulder and snickered.
Bruce turned slowly, there came a figure into sight with a tail flicking behind them.
"I guess Liralic had the same exact idea as you Bruce, colour me surprised." Vernon said with a tone of surprise.
Bruce smiled and turned to Vernon arrogantly, "you see, great minds think alike! Heh."
By the time the two of them finished bickering Liralic was already next to them.
"I wasn't expecting you two to be up so early." Liralic giggled and carried on, "Vernon you look like someone snatched your soul - haha!"
Vernon scoffed whilst looking sarcastically at Bruce, it said more than words could.
"Hah. You look at me like that yet its just an excuse cause you are lazy!" Bruce stared back.
Liralic burst out into laughter, "You two are polar opposites you know?"
"So! what are the plans? what do you two have in mind first? i mean its early but there should be something fun to do regardless."
Bruce pondered, "I've saved money I've gotten we can go shopping? That sounds 100% more fun than what Vernon has thought off!"
Bruce didn't even turn around to look at Vernon's face and he could already feel the shock radiating from him, "You dont even know what I've thought off!"
Bruce's laughter could have woken up an ancient being from a slumber with its radiant gleam.
Whilst the two were messing about Liralic had already thought of a plan of action.
"Okay - how about this?" Liralic then proposed a plan for the day.
- First we eat breakfast.
- We go shopping.
- Then we can get a picture taken.
- we can eat dinner at a restaurant.
Bruce and Vernon exchanged a glance.
Bruce clapped his hands as if sealing a contract.
"Hehe~ Breakfast first, i like that you have your priorities straight Liralic."
Liralic sighed tilting his head, "The bakery on lantern street opens earliest - if we dont want to be met with a line we should go now."
"Alright lets go." Vernon uttered whilst yawning.
They walked side by side.
The further they walked with the sun rising behind them the more shutters opened one by one.
A women came out to sweep her doorstep, somewhere above - a window snapped open and laughter filled the air. The songs of birds began shortly after, hesitant at first and then full and bright.
Even cats began their patrols, stretching upon random empty crates and barrels before leaping down to begin whatever duties they had to attend to at dawn.
The smell of yeast drifted faintly, followed by the scent of morning dew and cool stone. With each step towards Lantern Street, it grew richer, heavier, until the air itself seem kneaded with bread and coffee.
Bruce kept talking something about sweet rolls.
Vernon barely heard him.
The way he was looking at the city changed overnight.
Instead of studying it instead of calculating distance, cost, risk or structure.
He simply... Observed.
The streets lined with patches of flower beds, the same ones that were tended to even before sunrise. The oak trees that were older than he was, their bark forged by time and still standing firm. The subtle difference between inside the city and outside of it. The way the grass bent gently when the wind passed through, like it was bowing to something unseen.
Everything that he picked up had turned into something that settled in his chest.
And the same twisted feeling in his stomach whenever he left Derek's sight, the same one that lingered around since moving toward the city and inside the city - had loosened its grip.
Not because he was leaving.
But because he finally understood that leaving didn't erase what had been done.
"Vernon," Bruce said, stopping abruptly.
"If you start crying here before breakfast, I'm leaving you here."
Vernon stood there for a second, "Pfft, as if I'd ever cry." Vernon said whilst smirking.
As they entered the bakery, the chimes above the door announced their arrival, the difference between warmth inside and outside was barely noticeable but it still somehow felt softer regardless.
The low murmur of early customers replaced the hollow quiet of the streets outside. It felt... alive.
The foggy windows from the warmth of the oven and the flour dust floating in the beams off light made the scenery feel extremely comforting, Bruce had ran over to the corner seat - likely out of habit of trying not to stand out.. although Bruce really doesn't specialize in it. The seats were by a foggy window that had a nice view on a arching tree that towered above them.
Liralic went to greet the baker greeting her casually, whilst Vernon stood awkwardly behind him waiting to pay.
Bruce ordered:
A sweet hot chocolate, Sweet bread and a expensive caramel muffin without glancing at the prices.
Vernon ordered:
A sweet hot chocolate, A cheaper sandwich with ham, cheese, with a base of butter. Calculating so that he has more than enough to pay for the other two.
Liralic ordered:
A hot cup of milk and a Brioche, a simple choice yet his go to.
As they sat to the table Bruce had claimed earlier, the warmth from the drinks had sat between them slowly curling between them.
Bruce didn't even wait for it to cool.
"Idiot-" Vernon started.
Too late
Bruce flinched, nearly dropping the cup. "It attacked me!" he hissed tongue sticking out dramatically.
Liralic burst into laughter, his tail flicking behind him. "Who drinks hot chocolate like it's water?"
"This was a coordinated attack." Bruce muttered.
Vernon shook his head, though a faint smile betrayed him.
"Didn't you say Hot chocolate fixes everything?" Liralic added.
Bruce froze. "Of course it does- wait.. dont tell me you dont like hot chocolate."
He lifted his chin proudly. "I don't."
the silence that came through was theatrical.
"...Unbelievable." Bruce said, sounding as if his entire world was shattered.
Liralic shook his head, "Why do you think i got hot milk instead of hot chocolate?"
Vernon pretended he wasn't listening, though he'd already broken off a piece of a pastry and passed it toward Bruce. He hadn't wanted something sweet.
Or so he claimed.
Bruce accepted it without hesitation. See? Even Vernon understands the necessity- wait isn't this mine?"
"Ahem.." Vernon fake cleared his throat.
He leaned back in his chair, then feeling the pressure against his side.
His hand stilled for half a second before drifting casually toward his coat, fingers brushing the inside lining.
The dagger rested there, exactly where he'd placed it before leaving.
He could give it to Liralic now.
It wouldn't be strange.
They were already seated. Already talking. Already-
Liralic Laughed again, leaning forward as he argued with Bruce about whether hot milk counted as a "coward's version" of hot chocolate.
The morning light broke through along the rim of his cup.
carefree.
Unaware.
Vernon laughed.
"What's wrong with you?" Bruce asked.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Vernon responded.
They looked at Vernon as if he'd gone insane.
"Well, i do have to admit this is probably the best breakfast I've had so far." Bruce exclaimed whilst stretching.
Liralic stood too flicking his tail behind him, "Lets take the dishes to Madam Cavi."
Vernon followed.
The lady behind the counter - Cavi glanced at the three of them and asked, "Are the three of you siblings?"
Bruce choked on air when he heard that, and Liralic started laughing - Vernon apologized for their behaviour and corrected Miss Cavi "No miss, me and Bruce here are siblings however Liralic is our friend."
"I see, i had thought so." Cavi said, "After all I've never seen Liralic come here with anyone before."
Vernon glanced at Liralic briefly.
Liralic defensively said, "You didn't need to tell them that!"
"Haha - Alright! you two ready for shopping time?!" At some point it almost seemed like when spending money Bruce gains more energy.
Bruce wasted no time in leaving, Vernon and Liralic following behind shortly whilst thanking miss Cavi for the food and the chime saying farewell to them.
Once out they were met by a thrumming lively streets instead of silence, vendors calling out their wares in overlapping waves. scent of spice and fresh fruit had filled the air.
Bruce inhaled deeply, taking it all in.
"Heh, now this" He declared. "Is what a city should sound like."
Liralic laughed as he stepped down from the bakery threshold. "You say that, but i don't think Vernon here agrees."
Bruce glanced at Vernon, "He's always like that."
Vernon heaved a sigh. "Yeah yeah."
As they reached the main markets, a jeweller's stall caught Liralic's attention he lingers for a thought too long, enough for Vernon to make note of it.
Bruce had already outpaced them in an instant.
"Oi!" Bruce called from ahead. "Are you two planning to window-shop all day or are we spending money?"
Liralic straightened immediately, "Ha! wait up then!"
Bruce leaned closer to Vernon as they walked.
"Still thinking about it?"
Vernon kept his gaze forward. "..Maybe."
"Pfft, don't chicken out."
"I'm not."
Bruce smirked. "You absolutely are."
Moments later, barely making it half way down the next row of stalls Bruce stopped so abruptly that Vernon had nearly walked into him.
"..Hehe~."
Liralic didn't even move his attention of the clothes display opposite from them.
And there it was. Bruce's eyes gleaming in a way that never meant anything financially responsible."
"Fireworks."
The stall was practically impossible to miss once you saw it. Bright cylinders wrapped in red and gold paper were stacked in neat pyramids. Bundles of thin sparklers hung like metallic reeds, catching the sun whenever someone brushed past. Small wooden crates sat beneath the table, each stamped with faded warning sigils that had clearly been ignored many times before.
The air around the stall carried a faint scent of sulphur - sharp and dry - cutting through the sweeter smells of fruit and baked goods from neighbouring vendors.
Vernon needed one glance at Bruce and had sworn he saw his grin radiate the energy of the heavens.
"We HAVE to get these."
Vernon folded his arms. "You say that like we have unlimited coins."
"It's the last day," Bruce replied quickly, as if that alone justified the economical collapse.
"Dad probably has some spare funds~" he whispered into Vernon's ear. "Come on~ i know you want to see them too!"
Liralic finally got his attention back and stepped closer, tilting his head slightly as he examined a thin gold-threaded fuse. "They are beautiful," he admitted. "Dangerous and Beautiful."
"HAHA! Exactly! Liralic gets it!" Bruce said triumphantly.
The vendor, a narrow-eyed man with soot-darkened fingers, leaned forward. "Buy what you want. Just don't set them off near the old district."
Bruce blinked. "Huh - Why?"
"Law enforcement's been restless," the vendor muttered. "Too many patrols. They've been looking for a man with two swords from what I've heard."
Bruce waved a dismissive hand. "We are super responsible, don't worry."
Vernon stared at him for a long moment.
"...Sure you are."
For a moment Vernon's focus had broken, his attention drifting across the plaza toward the fountain - two uniformed figures. They weren't speaking. They weren't browsing.
They were watching.
The market noise wrapped around them - bargaining voices, coins clinking, obnoxious laughter coming from the back somewhere, fabric snapping at the touch of the wind.
Yet the two officers stood there unfazed, like they had a fixed reason for being there.
Liralic's gaze followed Vernon's for half a second.
Their eyes met.
Nothing was said.
Bruce, oblivious, picked up a bright red rocket and examined it like it held the secrets of the universe.
"How loud is this one?" he asked.
"Loud enough to regret," the vendor replied dryly.
Bruce's grin widened.
Vernon looked away from the officers first.
The city felt alive - brighter than it had that morning - but there was something sharper beneath it now. Not fear. Not yet.
Just awareness.
"How much for the red ones?" Bruce asked, already reaching for his coin pouch.
The vendor began counting bundles onto the table. Paper crinkled. Metal caps clicked against wood.
Behind them, a child laughed as a sparkler fizzed briefly to life before being quickly snuffed out by a panicked parent.
The sound cracked through the air.
One of the officers turned at it immediately.
Then, just as quickly, looked away.
And the market swallowed the moment whole.
They drifted from the market's brightest stretch into a quieter lane that branched off toward the western arch. The fabric awnings gave way to sturdier shopfronts, carved wooden signs, glass windows reflecting the now fully risen sun.
The noise softened here.
Still present - but less overwhelming.
Liralic slowed slightly as they reached a narrow storefront wedged between a bookbinder and a clockmaker. A brass plaque hung beside the door, etched with a simple glyph of a sunburst contained within a square.
Bruce squinted at it.
"...What is this?"
Liralic glanced back at them. "Before we cause structural damage tonight... I thought we could do something quieter."
Bruce looked suspicious immediately. "That sentence has never led to anything good."
Vernon, however, had already recognized the glyph.
"A Light studio?" he asked.
Liralic nodded.
Bruce blinked. "A what?"
The door chimed softly as Liralic pushed it open.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of polished wood and something sharper - like stone after lightning. Thin curtains filtered the sunlight into warm, diffused bands that stretched across the floorboards. Along the walls stood framed portraits: families frozen mid-laughter, elderly couples seated proudly, a trio of guards standing stiffly in uniform.
At the centre of the room rested a contraption that looked halfway between a chest and a weapon.
A brass-framed box sat mounted on a wooden stand. A thick crystal lens protruded from its front, faintly opalescent. Intricate glyph work had been carved around the lens housing, lines converging toward the centre like a controlled sunburst. At the back of the device, a small circular chamber pulsed dimly - a mana reservoir.
Bruce circled it cautiously.
"That steals your soul, doesn't it?"
A woman behind the counter looked up from adjusting a stack of treated paper. "Only on weekdays," she replied dryly.
Vernon stepped closer to the device, studying the crystal.
"It doesn't steal anything," he said automatically. "Light reflects off surfaces constantly. If you concentrate Light-attribute mana and stabilize the photon output, the reflected pattern can be transferred onto receptive paper."
Bruce stared at him.
"...You just said words."
The photographer smiled faintly. "He's correct. The paper is infused with dormant neutral mana. When exposed to a focused Light pulse, it temporarily becomes reactive. The image imprints before the mana disperses."
Bruce blinked again.
"So it's not stealing my soul."
"No," Vernon said. "You don't have enough for it to be worth stealing."
Bruce gasped in theatrical betrayal.
Liralic laughed softly.
The photographer gestured toward a marked area a few steps in front of the device. "Stand there. I'll adjust the focus."
Bruce immediately struck a dramatic pose.
"Not like you're about to duel someone," she added.
He reluctantly relaxed.
Vernon stepped into place beside him. Liralic joined them a second later.
The photographer adjusted the height of the stand, turning a brass knob that caused the crystal lens to hum faintly. Light gathered within it, barely visible - a subtle condensation in the air, as if the space in front of them were being gently pulled inward.
"Hold still," she instructed.
Bruce lasted three seconds.
"Do we blink?"
"Yes."
"What if I sneeze?"
"Don't."
Vernon resisted the urge to elbow him.
"Closer," the photographer said after a moment, peering along the side of the device. "You look like strangers."
There it was.
A pause.
Bruce hesitated only briefly before throwing an arm around Vernon's shoulders. "Problem solved."
Vernon stiffened instinctively.
Liralic stepped closer too - not as dramatically, but enough that his shoulder brushed Vernon's.
The contact was light.
Unintentional.
Warm.
The market noise outside felt distant now.
Contained.
The crystal lens brightened slightly as the photographer adjusted the focusing glyph. The faint hum deepened, resonant but controlled.
Vernon became aware of his own breathing.
Of Bruce's weight leaning into him.
Of Liralic standing close enough that he could feel the heat from his sleeve.
This moment would not move.
That realization settled heavier than he expected.
The paper inside the device waited - infused, receptive, empty.
Soon it would hold this exact arrangement of light.
Bruce mid-smirk.
Liralic's quiet smile.
Himself - caught between them.
Time would continue.
They would leave.
The city would change.
But this-
This would remain.
"Ready," the photographer said.
The lens flared.
Not explosively - but brilliantly, a concentrated pulse of Light-attribute mana released in a controlled burst. The air shimmered for half a heartbeat as photon output condensed and struck the treated paper within.
A soft ringing tone followed - like glass lightly tapped.
Then stillness.
Bruce blinked rapidly. "That was it?"
"That was it," the photographer confirmed.
She opened the back chamber and removed the infused sheet carefully. At first it appeared blank.
Then, slowly, lines began to emerge.
Not instantly - but as the residual mana stabilized and dispersed.
Edges formed first.
Silhouettes.
Light and shadow settling into place.
Bruce leaned forward eagerly. "Oh.. that's incredible."
Liralic watched more quietly.
Vernon felt something shift in his chest as the image sharpened.
There they were.
Exactly as they had stood.
Close.
Unmoving.
A version of them that would not step forward into whatever came next.
The photographer handed it over carefully once the mana glow had fully faded.
"Give it a minute more before folding it," she advised. "Light needs time to finish its work."
Bruce grinned, already proud of something he had not personally achieved.
"We look amazing."
"You look ridiculous," Vernon replied.
Liralic glanced between the image and Vernon for just a moment longer than necessary.
Then he smiled.
"Worth it."
The photograph remained carefully folded in Bruce's pocket.
He had checked three times to make sure it hadn't bent.
By the time the sun began dipping, Lantern Street had changed again. The gold of morning had turned amber. Shopkeepers were closing shutters instead of opening them. The smell of bread had faded, replaced by roasted meats and evening spices drifting from taverns.
They found a small outdoor table beneath hanging lanterns that were only just being lit.
Candlelight replaced sunlight.
It was subtle - but it mattered.
Bruce was still riding the momentum of the day.
"That artificer looked so proud when he handed it over," he said, tearing into bread. "Like he personally invented the sun."
Liralic smirked faintly. "You nearly blinded yourself trying to look into the lens."
"It was a scientific risk."
"You screamed."
"I did not scream."
Vernon allowed himself a small smile, but he wasn't watching them this time.
He was watching the way candlelight moved.
Unlike morning light, it didn't flood.
It flickered.
It made shadows deeper.
Dinner arrived. Plates clinked softly. Steam rose in thinner threads than it had at breakfast.
Bruce talked loudly at first - recounting the bakery, exaggerating the "coordinated hot chocolate attack," claiming he would file a formal complaint against molten beverages everywhere.
But gradually...
He slowed.
Words came with longer spaces between them.
The street noise dulled.
Somewhere nearby, a musician played something low and stringed.
Liralic turned his cup slowly in his hands.
"So..." he said casually - too casually.
Vernon didn't look up yet.
"When exactly are you leaving?"
There it was.
Not heavy.
Not accusing.
Just real.
Bruce's chewing slowed.
A lantern above them crackled softly.
Vernon traced the rim of his cup with his thumb.
"Early," he answered. "Before the city fully wakes."
Bruce swallowed.
"That early?"
"Yes."
A pause.
Longer than the others.
The weight wasn't loud. It simply settled between them like cooling ash.
Liralic nodded once.
"Forest roads are quieter at dawn," he said. Not arguing. Just acknowledging.
Vernon reached into his coat without thinking.
His fingers brushed against something familiar.
The dagger.
Cool metal. Carefully balanced. Polished hilt. The weight he had measured and adjusted himself.
He could give it now.
Candlelight would make it look warmer than steel deserved to look.
He almost took it out.
Almost.
But something stopped him.
Not fear.
Timing.
This wasn't the right light.
So instead, he withdrew his hand empty.
Bruce noticed.
He didn't comment.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair and forced a grin.
"Well," he said, louder than necessary. "Then we still have tonight."
And that was enough.
After dinner, the mood felt right.
They climbed somewhere slightly elevated.
A low stone overlook beyond the main streets. The oak trees outlined against a darkening sky. The rooftops below glowing with scattered lanterns.
Bruce carries the small bundle of fireworks like it's a sacred artifact.
"You're sure this is allowed?" Liralic asks.
Bruce grins. "It is technically not forbidden."
"That is not the same thing."
The first one sputters before catching.
Then-
A streak of light splits the sky.
It blooms overhead in silver.
For a moment, the city below reacts - distant cheers, surprised voices, a dog barking.
Bruce laughs.
Another one goes up.
Red this time.
Then gold.
Then one that fractures into smaller sparks that drift slowly downward like falling stars.
For a few minutes, they are loud.
Crackling.
Echoing.
Alive.
The light washes over their faces - harsh and bright and temporary.
Then the final one rises.
It bursts high above the oak trees in a wide arc of white.
It lingers.
And fades.
Silence returns.
Real silence.
Only the wind moving through leaves now.
Bruce exhales first.
"…Okay," he says softly. "That was worth it."
Liralic nods.
The city below resumes its quiet rhythm as if nothing had happened.
Vernon steps forward slightly.
The dagger is in his hand now.
No ceremony.
No build-up.
He holds it out toward Liralic.
"I made this."
That's it.
Not: For you.
Not: So you remember me.
Not: In case you need it.
Liralic doesn't take it immediately.
He looks at Vernon first.
Really looks.
Bruce turns away on purpose.
He studies the skyline as if it suddenly requires his full attention.
Liralic accepts the dagger carefully.
Tests the balance instinctively.
His expression shifts - not dramatic, just quiet understanding.
"It's weighted for reverse grip," he says softly.
Vernon nods.
"Yes."
Another pause.
But this one isn't empty.
It's full.
The kind that doesn't need filling.
Below them, lanterns flicker.
Above them, smoke from the fireworks thins into nothing.
Light had captured a morning.
But this?
This didn't need capturing.
It would stay.