I was zipping my travel satchel when I heard a distinct knock on the door. I knitted my eyebrows. Didn't I leave it open to air out my room for a few minutes? Why would they need to knock?

"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Mirani said behind me. I turned and I found her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smirk plastered on her rounded face.

I straightened, chucking my satchel on my bed. The mattress, being that soft, made it bob upside down in its attempt to settle the sudden weight imposed on it. "No, not interrupting," I said, showing her my palms in a surrendering gesture. "I was just finishing."

Mirani hummed, eyes already roaming on the inside of my room. "I didn't exactly put you up for the sentimental type but this is..." she circled a finger in the vague direction of my genius interior design. "It's too empty."

Oh. Was that what she was referring to? I thought she's going to comment about how I pushed the bed into the corner to give the room a wider floor space. In fact, I switched things around inside the room so much that none of the original arrangement remained. Well, discounting the rotary phone I used to call meals up to my room.

I rolled my shoulders, relishing the cracking in my joints as I did. "Collecting things isn't my forte," I said, and it's true. That's more of a Hye-jin thing. I've always moped about the growing collection of things around the house because she's always on her phone, ordering things online she didn't even need. "What brings you here?"

Mirani perked up, a grateful look passing across her face as if she's relieved the conversation flowed past what she was trying to say to me. I didn't need to be a mind-reader to have an inkling of what she's going to say if I didn't change the subject. She'd perhaps comment about my lack of personal things in my own room, and how it might come across as me not thinking I'd stay here for long.

She'd mostly be right. I wasn't planning to spend a long time in this place, wherever this was. I would just get my rank up, get into that hidden archive, search for a way home, and take said way. Besides, after spending a whole lot of years decorating a house and knowing people would eventually leave their figurative nests depending on the flow of life, it seemed like a waste of time. Plus, the amount of clean-up work it would take, to erase any traces of you in that place—it's too much.

"Can I...?" Mirani gestured to the floor, swinging her arms this way and that.

I raised an eyebrow and jerked my chin at her. "Sure," I said. "Step right up."

She muttered her excuses and ducked past my doorway. "Here," she said, holding up a sheathed dagger to me. "Thought you might have more use with it."

I stared at the weapon, tracing the hand holding to an arm before eventually letting my gaze rest on the face smiling at me. "Why me?" I tilted my head to one side. "Also, this is the second weapon you've given me. Why?"

Mirani shrugged. "Maybe because I've seen you fight with a sword. While you're good with it, I think you'll be able to refine your techniques if you have something like this," she said. "And this dagger was given to me by Yaora just to spite me. He likes doing that—giving us gears that aren't the right fit. I think because I ate the newarb liver skewers he had been saving up for three days now."

I have no idea what a newarb was, but eating someone's food like that would guarantee a lifetime of hate. "Why did you touch his stuff? That wasn't a nice thing to do," I commented, still letting the dagger dangle in the space between us. It'd be awkward if I took it while still inquiring about how it came to the possession of the one giving it. "Where did the gear he promised you go?"

Mirani stuck her bottom lip out. "Probably with Nazran," she said. "I like swords. He doesn't. I'm surprised he still hasn't done the same thing to Cavya even though all the cat literally did was push him around."

"Hey, Cavya could flatten any of us in mere seconds if he wills it," I said. I still felt like I shouldn't take the dagger and be a part of the never-ending cycle of one person trying to out-prank the other. But...it's looking so tempting. After losing the Merlaine Dagger to the depths of the game restart, seeing another dagger made by a strong artisan was almost sunshine after a long barrage of winter.

She chuckled and plopped down to the bed, the blade still in her grip. "Hey, some of us could even steal his sword," she said. "How does that feel?"

I scratched the side of my face. That day was nothing but a blur of nerves and adrenaline, leaving behind a trail of muddy recollection in my mind. All I knew was that somehow, I won and now, I was with the Dragnasand Knights. "It...doesn't really feel like anything?" I said. "I mean, Cavya's rapier was just a rapier."

A boisterous laugh tore out of Mirani's lips. I whirled to find her doubling over in amusement, slapping her frilly skirts. If anything, even that has some sort of protection against inflicted damage from nether beasts. "That's funny," she said. "Cavya's sword is crafted by the strongest spiria in all of Solarlume, made from each of the Elder Guardians' horns. You're gonna have to feel something, holding something as legendary as that."

I have no idea about half the stuff she spouted, with the Elder Guardians having horns and everything, but I guessed it must have been special. Like, a whole lot special. Then, something else registered. "Wait, you said 'crafted by a spiria'," I pointed a finger at her. "Did you mean a crafting spiria?"

Mirani blinked. "Yes, a crafting spiria," she said, a confused inflection rising in her tone. "Why?"

"Is that why you're not revolted when Seline was around?" I asked. As much as I hated bringing that woman back into a conversation with Mirani that, for the first time, didn't involve her, I just had to. "You don't think crafting spirias are bad luck or something?"

Mirani snorted and waved a hand in front of her face. "That stuff? It's an Eastern thing," she said. "They believe crafting spirias come from the Guardian of Darkness, Haalor. Because of their similarity in powers, like creating portals out of thin air, manipulating the magic in the air and blessing inanimate objects found from nature with them, and other stuff I'm not well-versed in, it's easy to assume they are going to be the guardian's followers."

"And you know the Eastern Empire's capital, Suprana," she wiggled her eyebrows at me as if she's assuming I could already make the connection from there. I haven't. "Being called the Capital of Light...well, it is kind of easier to assume they're not big fans of the darkness."

Huh. Was there such history and depth in Solarlume back then when it was a game? It didn't seem so. Even to me, who spent hours reading through all the fan-made online encyclopedias detailing everything there was to know about the landscape of the game, some of the things I was finding out during my stay here felt brand new.

Ending up in that part of the world while being what she was...it must have been tough for Seline. Then again, it's not like I care. Not anymore.

"So, will you take it or not?" Mirani waved the dagger in front of my face as I settled on the bed a distance away from her. "Come on. The next minute, I'll be charging you an ethran a minute for making my arm hang for too long."

I pursed my lips. "I'm..sorry, Mirani," I said.

She lowered her arm, settling the dagger over her lap once more. "What for?" she glanced at the ceiling as if trying to recall some instance I messed up. To be fair, I wouldn't mind it if the next thing out of her mouth was a roster of all the times I've failed her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Oh, that's new. It seemed like everything I was doing all these years had been anything but correct. Still, I've got to say it. I owed Mirani at least this for all the kindness she's been showing me. "Back when you're telling me to rest and take care of my health and stuff," I ran a hand at the back of my neck. "I really appreciate it, but sometimes...it irks me about how much you pity me."

Mirani was silent. I had no idea how she would react to confrontation about her behavior but so far, there was nothing happening. I decided to push it farther. "I know you care about me and don't want to see me be miserable or whatever," I said. "But, back then, I really thought you're just feeling sorry for me. It's not the right behavior—I know that—but that's what I felt. That's why I walked out on you. I just..."

I ran a hand over my face and rested my elbows on my knees as I leaned forward. My hair fell over my forehead and its ends threatened to poke my eyeballs. I let them be. It's not like they're going to follow. "There are a lot of things I need to process, things I need to keep to myself, and things you'd be safer to never know about me," he said. "There are times I don't want to talk about them and there are times I want to, so...I hope you didn't take it to heart when I turned your questions down. The way I acted, how I never really told you what's happening and just assumed you did—that was my mistake."

Mirani was so still I started to think she was starting to turn into a statue right then and there. I called her name and she flinched. "Oh," she said, then chuckled with uncertainty lacing her voice. "That was...I don't know, the most honest thing I've heard in a long while."

She coughed into her fist and faced me. Fully. She smiled. "Thank you for explaining," she said. "I just hate it whenever I see someone battling things nobody could see and how it creeps up little by little in their actions. I've always wanted to help, but I'll keep your input in mind. There might be some instances that people didn't want to be helped, but rather listened to."

"Yeah. That's more like it," I bobbed my head, straightening back up. "That's why I felt so unsure about taking your dagger. It's been holding me down for the last few weeks."

Mirani reached out and pressed a finger against my forehead, giving me a gentle shove with it. "You dummy," she said. "This is your dagger. I'm just your delivery girl. And to think you've let so much of the last few weeks drag you back, skidding and skittering. It's in the past! Even if some people won't be able to forgive you for it, you should at least do it to yourself."

I clenched my jaw. Could I really? What would happen if I did? Would it unravel me from the rawest, ugliest part of myself? I didn't want that. I've built too many protective layers around myself to be able to handle life's hammering and without them, I felt like I would crumble. Or get squashed like a bug. Either way, both weren't pretty.

"Well, thanks for dropping by," I said. "I meant that. Truly."

Instead of standing up and striding out of the room, Mirani leaned closer and wrapped her arms around me. My first instinct was to pull away and blubber about going back to my wife and all that, but in came the jarring truth. I didn't have a lot of things in my life anymore, and this embrace...it felt good.

I found myself circling an arm around Mirani's waist, letting her warmth seep into my skin. It was comforting. Safe. I rested my forehead against the crook of her neck and stayed there for as long as necessary. At least, until all of the weight pressing against my shoulders for the longest time to ease a little.

My mind dared to hope that by staying in her arms, I was going to be able to forget the lingering feeling of being in another. That I would be able to find a reason to smile and wake up in the morning once more.

We broke apart and, to my surprise, Mirani didn't draw all the way. Instead, I felt a gentle hand press against my cheek. "I have much to thank you for just like you, me," she said. "Talking about these things with you...it's the only freedom I get in this constricted keep. Thank you."

I was about to reply when she drew closer until our noses were almost touching. Something soft and warm pressed against my cheek. I froze, my limbs refusing to move despite all the warning bells flaring in my head. Mirani moved back and maintained a safe distance away, but my heart still hasn't finished pounding against my ribcage. What...what was that?

I didn't know. I have no name for it. Whatever it was, never in my life had it felt so...wrong. If this went further, if this turned into something we wouldn't ever control, it's going to burn everything in its path, until there was nothing left. With me still reeling from the sight of everything I ever knew being eaten by the fire and crumbling into ashes, could I stand to lose the meager things I was able to gather from the ruins?

No. I couldn't. And Mirani couldn't lose anything either because of me. I have to stop this, cut it from the root. It couldn't go on any further.

"Well, I'm going," Mirani said after the silence between thickened into an uncomfortable veil.

I smiled at her and raised the sheathed dagger. "Thanks for this," I said. "And...about a dozen other things."

With that, Mirani gave me a little wave before retreating into the corridor beyond my room. After a few seconds, the sound of her boots faded with the distance, leaving me alone in the growing turmoil in my gut, one that wouldn't go away any time soon.