Though his body still trembled and his breath hadn’t fully steadied, Riven kept walking ho.
Not to his ho, of course.
He moved carefully, weaving through broken fences and scattered debris, away from the fortress and the now-ghostly town that had once been bustling with life. The house he was returning to lay on the outskirts of town, far from the other hos. Its secluded location was exactly why no one ever ca looking.
That house had once belonged to an old wine rchant—at least, that’s what a few remaining townsfolk had told Riven when he asked around. But the owner had fled in a panic the mont word of Arkham’s invasion reached the town.
And for Riven, that was an opportunity.
He had watched the house for a whole day, making sure there were no traps, no sudden return of the owner, no nosy neighbors peeking through curtains. Only after confirming it was safe did he and Mira quietly move in.
That had always been their way of life.
Moving from one abandoned ho to another. Following the scent of battle—not to fight, but to survive. Scavenging the wreckage of war for scraps, for food, for just one more day together.
The sun was already high by the ti he slipped through the cracked kitchen window. He pulled the ragged curtain closed again, careful not to leave a trace. As soon as he stepped inside, the chill in his chest slowly began to lt.
"Finally you’re back!" a familiar, sharp voice rang from the living room. "I thought you were dead or got sold off to goblins!"
Riven turned and saw Mira standing with her hands on her hips, her face frowning but her eyes sparkling. The long-haired girl looked like a mix between a sweet child and a little witch who worried far too much.
"I’m fine," said Riven, tossing his empty bag to the floor. "And goblins aren’t dumb enough to catch ."
"Are you sure?" Mira ran over and began inspecting his body like an amateur dic. "No arrows? No missing fingers? No stab wounds in the belly?"
"No, no, and... no."
"But you look pale. And you stink."
"That’s because I was almost choked to death," Riven muttered without thinking.
Mira froze. "What?!"
Riven blinked, realizing his slip. "I an... I tripped over a corpse. You know how ssy war zones get."
"Gods, Riven!" Mira smacked his chest lightly, completely unbothered by the comnt. "Don’t joke like that. You nearly gave a heart attack!"
Riven chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Sorry. But hey, I’m alive—and still resisting the urge to strangle you back."
Mira scoffed. "If I die first, it’ll be from the stress of looking after my dumb brother who keeps wandering through graveyards."
Riven collapsed into a rickety chair, stretching his tense muscles. "You’re so noisy today, and I just got ho from work."
"That’s because I care."
For a mont, there was only silence. But it wasn’t cold. It was the kind of silence that felt warm, like an old blanket in winter. Riven exhaled slowly, the stiffness in his shoulders beginning to ease.
"Have you eaten?" he asked, glancing toward the ssy kitchen.
"A little. I found a can of soup in the cupboard this morning. We have to ration. I saved your share."
"You’re so sweet," Riven said with a small smile. "Maybe you’re not my real sister."
"Save the sarcasm," Mira stuck her tongue out. "I just don’t want to find you passed out on the floor again. You’re heavy, you know."
"Sorry. Next ti I’ll pass out on the dining table—easier to carry."
Mira let out a long sigh and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. "You were gone for so long. I was seriously worried, you know?"
"I had to wait for the right mont."
"Still..." Mira looked at him for a long ti. "Every ti you leave the house, it feels like... like you might not co back."
Riven fell silent.
He stared at his sister’s wide, clear eyes. Thirteen years old—an age where she should be complaining about howork or talking about her friends. But this world was too broken to let children dream.
"I’m sorry," Riven said at last. "I’ll be more careful."
Mira nodded softly, then smiled. "I know. My brother might be dumb, but he’s not soone who dies easily."
Riven chuckled. "You’re right. Very wise for a little chatterbox."
They sat in that peaceful silence for several more minutes. Then Mira tilted her head and asked,
"By the way... you didn’t bring anything back, did you?"
Riven hesitated. He glanced at his worn-out bag lying limply on the floor.
"The battlefield was too chaotic," he answered quietly. "I couldn’t... handle seeing more blood today. Maybe I’ll go again later. Once things calm down."
Mira nodded, though her face fell slightly. "That’s okay. I understand. You don’t always have to bring sothing ho."
"I should have, though. Even a rusty knife would’ve helped."
"But if it costs your life, I’d rather you co back empty-handed than not co back at all."
Riven looked at her deeply. Those words ca from a child—but the maturity behind them made sothing ache inside him.
"I love you, Mira."
Mira sighed dramatically. "I know. I love you too. But you have to promise sothing..."
"What is it?"
"When I grow up and marry a rich guy, you have to stop scavenging battlefields. I’ll get us a house, food, and everything we need."
Riven froze.
Then he laughed quietly. A soft, broken laugh.
He stood up and pulled Mira into a hug.
"Alright," he whispered. "If that’s your dream, I’ll do my best to stay alive until then."
Mira grumbled in his arms. "I’m serious, you know!"
"I am too. And I’ll beat up any poor guy who tries to marry you."
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