"Is this form enough?", Cale asked Fengari.

"It's perfect!", her reply came instantly, accompanied by a few flaps of wings. "Thank you very much."

"I should be thanking you", Cale told her, opening the room window. "Please be careful when you're out on your own, and contact me in case of emergency."

"I will!", Fengari confirmed and disappeared in the next moment.

For a few seconds, Cale watched the raven's figure disappear before sighing and reminding himself that he could trust Fengari completely. So he left the window half open, changed his clothes, and went on his way.

After their conversation, Grischa had taken him to the inn where he was currently staying. It was the same accommodation that Cale had visited with William and the group. Back then, in his last life. Even if it was currently lacking in splendor.

When Cale made his way back to the dining room, the tables were empty. Even the last guests had retired, which was not surprising given the time of day. Only the waiter and Grischa remained.

"I didn't expect to see you this late."

"And I didn't think you'd still be drinking at this hour."

"You've already seen my worst side. What difference does it make?", Grischa replied without looking up from the bar. A wounded glance at the waiter later, and Cale knew that this wasn't Grischa's first drink.

"I don't intend to tell anyone about what happend - if that's what you're concerned about."

"I'm very grateful to you for that. Today just wasn't my day."

"I can see that."

"Just so you know!", Grischa exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. "I could have defended myself. I just didn't want to."

"How considerate of you", Cale confirmed, his gaze wandering to the dark spot on Grischa's face. It had swollen even more.

"I just wanted to make that clear", Grischa replied, muttering, while Cale's attention turned to the waiter.

"There's not much going on in town. Is that normal?"

"Yes. We have many travelers, but few who actually live here", the waiter confirmed, sliding the menu across the counter. "Most are Anuxers."

"Understandable. So close to the plains."

"Why, actually?", Grischa interjected, half asleep.

"Why are there so many travelers here, or why are there so many Anuxers?", Cale he asked more precisely.

"Both."

"That's probably because of the new path", the waiter began, polishing cutlery as he spoke. "Apparently, someone found a footpath through the plains that is safe and leads directly to Sylve."

"But we have ferries to Sylve, don't we?"

"That cost a fortune", Cale interjected again. "And they run very irregularly. Walking through the plains actually seems like a good alternative to me, and the more people there are on the path, the safer it becomes."

"The plains have never been a safe place...", Grischa shot back. "...and a path certainly won't change that."

"I never said it would be completely safe. But there are people who would take those risks. Including me."

"You're crazy. Why would you voluntarily go to the plains?"

Instantly, a chill ran down Cale's spine. For a moment, the Grischa from his sixth life stood before him. Grinning, before he freaked out and started giving his usual sermons.

"Because I have confidence in my abilities", Cale replied calmly as the image of the old Grischa slowly faded. "I can't say why others dare to do it, but it's probably because the cost plays a big role."

"True", the waiter nodded in agreement. "I've heard that often from the visitors who come here."

"If you ask me", Cale began, "Persiven is in for a big change - very soon."

"That would be nice", the waiter replied, accompanied by an annoyed groan from Grischa.

"Great. And then everyone will know the stories", Grischa added.

Cale immediately wanted to object. He wanted to remind Grischa that his whole life was still ahead of him and that he wouldn't always be remembers as the High-Magician who gained notoriety through the deaths of two people. He wanted to tell Grischa about all the wonderful things the future had planned for him... but Cale knew that right now he would just look like a dreamer.

In the end, he decided not to say anything.

Grischa also seemed to have had enough of the subject, because he emptied his glass in one go and said goodbye, commenting that he was going for a walk. For a moment, Cale considered following him, but some time to think seemed to do Grischa good.

"You do know who he is, don't you?", the waiter inquired after a few moments.

"Yes. Do you?"

"Everyone here knows him. With 300 inhabitants, that's not particularly difficult, especially with his history."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Did you know the two people who were killed?"

"Through mutual acquaintances, yes. The father of the girl who died... is my neighbor."

"Were you close?"

"She was just the neighbor's kid I looked after from time to time. For Persivans, solidarity is very important."

"So everyone hates Grischa. Am I right?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it hate. It's just been five years, and people are still sensitive about it. Especially because Grischa shows up here every year and tries to ask for forgiveness. No one can really come to terms with it when they constantly hear and see him."

"He feels very guilty."

"We know that", replied the waiter, leaving his task. "And we also know that Lingala and Floahn were his friends. You could see the four of them running through the streets here every day. They also showed up here every morning and helped me with the morning cleanup."

"Grischa as well?", Cale repeated in surprise.

"Yes, him too. It was their way of earning some extra money. Especially for Grischa, who no longer has parents to rely on. He was just a child..."

"A child who will drown in his desperation."

"True", the waiter nodded in agreement. "And yet no one is doing anything about it. Sometimes I wonder how people would react if he didn't show up anymore."

"How would you react?"

The waiter fell silent for a moment as he considered his answer.

"I would be relieved and concerned at the same time. I realize that Grischa is not to blame, but it doesn't help anyone if he clings to the past like this. We are trying to move on with our lives, and every time he shows up, he sets progress back to square one."

"I understand", Cale replied, staring at the door through which Grischa had disappeared. "Although I can also understand his side very well. Persiven is the only home he has, and he doesn't want to lose his family again. That's why he clings so tightly to hope."

"Do you know him well?"

"Not really. In my position, it's necessary to deal with potential threats, and he's no exception."

"What do you do, if I may ask?"

"Prevent wars", Cale replied with a grin. "Literally."

"Sounds like an interesting job."

"Not one you would choose voluntarily", Cale muttered quietly and straightened up. "I'm going to check on my daughter."

"Of course", replied the waiter. "I'll close up the restaurant then. If you want to wash up, we have two communal showers downstairs. And if you're leaving early tomorrow, use the back door. It's open."

"Thank you very much."

"Have a good night."

"You too", Cale replied politely and hurried back to the room.

When he opened the door, the cool air immediately hit his face, as the window had been thrown wide open. Fengari wasn't back yet, but he hadn't expected her to be. He locked the door, changed his form into a bird as well, and went in search of Grischa.

He didn't have to search long. Grischa had gone to the harbor and was lying on the pier, his feet dangling in the cold sea. There was not a soul to be seen far and wide, which was probably exactly what Grischa had intended.

For quite some time, Cale watched his old friend from a safe distance, but Grischa didn't move a muscle. At first, Cale thought he had fallen asleep. But his mana was too active for that.

And too uncontrolled.

A phenomenon that Cale knew only too well. After all, he had once been in the same situation himself. Over 250 years ago, when he was struggling with the consequences in his second life. It was a miracle that Grischa never hated his magic as much as Cale did. Or at least the older Grischa that Cale had met in his other lives.

When Cale grew tired of waiting, he transformed back into his form as Zod Adenia and quietly approached Grischa. As before, Grischa did not react, but this time Cale lay down next to him on the wooden floor and stared up at the sky.

Because the city generally emitted very little light, the sky - and especially the stars - were all the more visible. Like a sea of grains of sand that had gathered and were waiting for a wave to sweep them away.

"Have you ever wondered why the gods created the stars?", Grischa asked after a moment of silence.

"Not yet, no", Cale replied honestly.

For him, the gods and the world were a taboo subject that he was reluctant to broach. After all, he didn't know who might be listening to his words, and he wanted to avoid a battle with the gods at all costs.

One of his three great fears.

"They don't make sense, do they? Every night they are in the same place, shining happily. And every morning they disappear again when the sun rises. Why? The sun brings us warmth, which is why we need it to live, but why does the sun disappear every night and where does it go?"

"Maybe it's not the sun that disappears, but us."

"Do you think so?"

"Nothing would surprise me anymore."

"What about the stars? Do they disappear too?"

"Possibly", Cale replied hesitantly, before thinking about it more carefully. "You can see the stars even better in Frignez, you know. The sky is so clear, especially in summer, that you can count the stars."

"That sounds wonderful."

"It is", Cale confirmed. "But you know what? Even during the day, you can see the stars."

Surprised, Grischa sat up and looked down at Cale.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Maybe the sun is just a star that shines much brighter than all the others."

"And much closer to us than all the others. So close that it almost blinds us."

"Quite possibly", Grischa replied thoughtfully.

"The sky would be pretty gloomy without stars, don't you think? Even though they are so far away, they give us their light, and the mass of lights allows us to see something at night."

"Never thought about it."

Cale didn't answer. His thoughts wandered to Evlogie, the first and only dragon to ever be sent away by the gods. Cale had heard a few stories about her and knew that she had always questioned the boundaries of the world. Slowly, Cale stretched his hand toward the sky and tried to grab a star. They were so far away that Cale couldn't tell how long it would take to reach them. Or what they would look like if he could see them up close.

"Aren't you cold?", Grischa asked after a moment of silence. Cale noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, so he turned his attention to the young high mage.

"Me? Are you seriously asking a Frignezer if he's cold?"

"Stupid question", Grischa replied and turned away, but Cale couldn't take his eyes off him. In his entire life, he had never seen Grischa so dejected. Desperate and frightened, yes, but not depressed. That's why it was so difficult for him to find the right words. On the other hand, it had never been necessary for Cale to interfere in the situation.

<Maybe I should have just kept going to Exarion. Back then, he managed to get back on his feet without my help.>

For a moment, Cale closed his eyes. He thought about the last days of his sixth life, the faces of his friends, and Aaron's last words. Memories he would carry with him forever.

Perhaps he would tell them about it. Aaron, Grischa, William, and the others. Perhaps when the time was right and Cale was sure they could handle the information. But it would be years before he could have an honest conversation with them again. In Grischa's case, certainly 15 years, if not more.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

Surprised, Cale opened his eyes and watched as Grischa turned his face toward him and blushed.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were watching me. You're not planning on falling asleep here, are you? What about your daughter?"

And there it was again. The concern he knew from Grischa. Even though Cale knew that Grischa would not describe the words as concern for him. But Cale ignored that. One last time, he wanted to feel what it was like when someone cared about him. Just one last time.

"Don't stare at me like that. Talk to me or leave", Grischa added, annoyed.

"High-Magician Vonstetten", Cale finally began, without moving. "Has anyone ever told you that your hair shines like stars?"

"Not yet", Grischa replied, reaching for a strand. "I should probably cut it off and dye it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to stand out any more than I already do. It's about time..."

"I doubt a new haircut will help you with that", Cale replied with a weak smile. "Your time will come, just as the stars wait for nightfall every time. And time is something you have much more of than you might think."

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