Meriel looked at the building a little more, trying to settle his nerves, watching the iron gate in front of him and the small box adorning it. There was a name embedded on the small box. His family's surname. The same surname he had, though he had almost forgotten it in the years past. It was confirmation enough that at least his great-grandnephews and great-grandnieces would probably be living here. The purpose of the box was lost on him, however.

  "What is the box for?" Meriel wondered aloud, looking at Mary who seemed as uncertain as he was.

  "I think it's a mailbox," she mused, looking it over. "I've never seen one in use, though only the richer folk and the nobles usually get any letters."

  A mailbox—that was definitely new. Although there were couriers in his era as well ,they only served the king and royalty, not any common folk, no matter how rich they were. Waving the thought away, he finally calmed his breath enough to open the gate. The iron immediately swung open, not even locked.

  He stepped onto the short walkway towards the building, watching for any movement, but he immediately got lost in the sight of the flowers. He had never seen most of them in his life, making him think that most of them must be imported from another area.

  They were gorgeous—not a single flower was the same shape or color as the other. Whoever was keeping this place alive really had amazing taste, or maybe they were a collector. A sight of one flower in particular caught his eye, however—the three-eyed sun, Elsa's favorite flower.

  It had a triangular pattern, three pointy petals, their color was the shade of red like blood. Apparently, they reminded Elsa of her home, though she never expanded on what she meant by that. She would not get the chance now.

  "Are you sure this is your home, Mister Meriel? I think we could get in trouble if we just annoyed the people inside." Mary looked around, visibly nervous.

  Meriel just huffed from his nose, ruffled her hair, and gently pulled her forward. "It's okay, don't worry. Worst case scenario, we just walk out." Meriel smirked, to which Mary didn't reply. Her placated smile was enough of an answer, however.

  He finally walked towards the wooden door. This too was way more adorned than he'd remembered, but he thought that the house might have just been reconstructed before. Not… torn down and rebuilt. Something about the wall and the door seemed familiar, like it was still on the same spot it was in the past. Calming himself for the umpteenth time that day, he got his breath and knocked on the massive door three times.

  There was no reply at first, and he almost thought of knocking again, but finally, some shuffling of feet could be heard from beyond. "Coming! Coming!" A woman's voice came from beyond the door, and Meriel and Mary stepped a little distance away.

  The door flew open, and a woman stood there. Meriel immediately recognized her features, though he had never seen the woman. She was almost a carbon copy of his sister the last time he saw her, though this woman was slightly older—she was at least slightly shorter than he was, the same eye color, the same nose. He felt his breath catch, and the words coming from the woman went over his head for that short moment.

  "Hello," the woman said with a hint of concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

  "Hey, Mr. Meriel," she's talking to you! Mary pulled on his cloak, finally making him jump.

  "Yeah, I...I…" He stuttered, finding all the words evaporating from his mind. What was even the reason for coming here? He knew he'd not find his family, and he probably could have found their graves on his own. Did he seriously just need confirmation of his siblings' survival after he dissapeared?

  Well, he should have thought about that before knocking.

  "I came to ask about Bugs and Eveline. I assume they are dead, but I wanted to ask what happened to them." He finally got out.

  The woman in front of him seemed confused for a little bit, her eyebrows shooting up, but then she nodded and stepped sideways toward the door. "My great-grandpa, um, yeah, sure, come in. It’s been a while since somebody cared about my lineage."

  Mary paled, shaking her head. She really didn’t want to go inside. "It's okay, we didn't mean to be a bother," she quickly quipped, slowly edging away from the building.

  Meriel pulled her back and started walking forward, ignoring Mary's little resistance.

  Meriel sat on the too-comfortable chair, watching the room around him with curiosity unhidden. He recognized this one little room; it was his former dining room, after all. Though it looked way more pristine than he remembered.

  There was no kitchen next to it as well, instead replaced by another of these way-too-soft chairs that were wide enough for three people to sit shoulder to shoulder. Mary sat next to him, twiddling her fingers, obviously nervous, but he left her to it, instead focusing on other things. Two cups were placed in front of them, hot steam curling up from the drink within, though it was way thicker than any drink Meriel had ever seen.

  Stolen story; please report.

  "What is this again?" he asked the woman, who watched them with the same curiosity as he watched the room.

  "It's sabuk," she said. "It's a new thing and quite expensive, but it tastes sweet. Have a sip."

  Meriel had gotten used to other delver teams trying to poison him in his past, and so he rarely took drinks that others offered him, but something about this woman calmed him like almost nothing else did. He decided to trust her and took a sip.

  The white liquid inside was more pleasant than he ever expected. The drink was very sweet, but not the kind of sweetness he was used to. Instead, it warmed him from inside. It was also thicker than any other drink he'd ever had, almost to the point that he thought he'd be full if he drank about three or four cups.

  "What a strange taste—so much sweetness in one cup," he said, gently picking up the other cup and putting it into Mary's lap.

  Finally, he looked at the woman again, trying to arrange his thoughts.

  "So, you wanted to know something about my great-grandpa? Why though? Are you related somehow? I have to admit it's been quite a long time since somebody last came asking about him or his brother."

  Some people knew about Meriel? His brother though seemed to have accomplished something worthwhile as well, which was nice to hear about.

  "I kind of came to ask where his grave is. And of his sister and mother." He added slowly, hoping that it wasn't common knowledge.

  "Ah, they are in the inner circle of the cemetery. Their brother is buried in the capital, however."

  "But didn't he die fighting the dragon?" he asked, hoping that the assumption about what actually happened was not hidden from the general public.

  He could feel Mary tensing up, listening to the dialogue, soaking in new information like a sponge. It seemed that kids listening to conversations they shouldn't was the same no matter the century.

  "He did die after fighting the dragon, yes, but they made a grave in the capital anyway for him and all the other companions of his."

  He wondered if he should ask more, but he decided against it. He wanted to know so much, but the fear of raising suspicion battled with his hunger for knowledge. In the end, he decided to change the topic.

  "So, how did this family come to have such a giant manor?" he said, looking around the room again. He didn't even notice, but there were paintings on the ceiling. The ceiling of all places? What was the purpose of that?

  The woman chuckled, putting her hand in front of her mouth. "I think you're not the first one to ask those questions. All of our neighbors ask that same thing every day. But the answer is simple. We got the inheritance from Meriel, the legendary mage, and then we also got a lot of income from my great-grandpa and his martial school."

  A martial school—that was good to know. Bugs always seemed to lack a purpose in life when they were younger, but he seemed more collected the last time he saw Meriel. He felt great, glad that his family was doing so well once again.

  "Anyway, I still haven't got your names. I think you should be able to tell me at least that much after I gave you something so expensive and gave you all these answers." She said playfully, her eyes going from one face to the other. "My name is Viera," said the woman. "What about you?"

  Meriel once again thought about keeping his identity hidden and thought of what name he could go by, but Mary immediately went to answer. "Well, my name is Mary, and this is my big brother Meri-."

  He quickly put his hand on her mouth, meeting her eyes. Hopefully, his look would be enough to tell her to be quiet about his name. She apparently hadn't made the connection yet, but he didn't think that the same would apply to this woman, Viera.

  "Sorry, my little sister sometimes makes fun of my name. My name is Mev."

  "Well, thank you for letting me think and remember all of my family's history, but I'm afraid my husband will be coming home soon, and I will have to ask you to leave." She said, and even though her voice had a friendly tone to it, there was no question in it.

  Meriel nodded, immediately got up, and motioned for Mary to do the same. The kid looked half asleep on the soft chair or whatever the name of it was; he actually had to shake her to get her to stand up.

  “Actually, humor me with another answer to a question. Well, two, actually. First, what happened to your arm? And the other, why do you seek my family’s graves?” Viera looked Meriel up and down. “I doubt you knew them personally.

  If only she knew how wrong she was. “I haven’t. Let’s just say I’m a distant relative. As for my arm, my animal took it.”

  She chuckled again, waved her hand in front of her face, and looked into his eyes again. There was something else in them this time, an emotion he couldn’t identify. “Well, distant relative, come here if you ever have more questions, or need some help. Or disciplining your pets. You two will always be welcome.”

  Meriel returned Viera’s smile, and turned to Mary, who seemed to be joining in with the soft chair.

  "Just five minutes, Mr. Mev..." Mary didn't finish Meriel's name, probably catching herself before she could do so. But she still remained in the same position, trying to claw her way out of Meriel's arms to lay on the couch again.

  "Maybe we could just stay..."

  Meriel wasn't that opposed to staying himself, for he quite liked his former home. However, he couldn't risk someone finding out who he was—not when he had this little information. Jonathan was dead, but he wasn’t a man who didn’t make sure his targets were buried as well.

  "Oh, little thing, maybe I could talk to my husband, see if he's fine with us having guests over," the woman said, waving Meriel away after watching Mary's display. "She reminds me a little bit of my own little one when she was younger."

  Meriel thought about it again. He knew he had nowhere to stay, but he also didn't want to leave Ziggy outside on his own. He could communicate emotions through to him even from a distance, but it still seemed irresponsible.

  "No, we don't want to be a bother. Thank you. I will repay your kindness one day."

  Viera remained silent, though smiling, and Meriel decided not to wait for Mary any longer and instead scooped her up into his arms and began walking away. The cold bit into him as he walked outside. It somehow got completely dark, although he'd only spent around an hour in his childhood home. He pulled his cloak around Mary and himself and began walking.