As had become our routine by now, Seren and I met up again the weekend after our home date. This time, I went all out as we would be visiting some place fancier than a tavern or some field. For once, I donned my black stola with golden embroideries lining the edges of the cloth when it wasn’t New Year’s Eve, and I braided my bone-white hair into a chignon with golden ribbons wrapped into it.

As I waited for Seren in the main courtyard, the students, faculty and staff who walked past me in the early morning of this Ymirsday all gave me a double take. Not just because of the unusual way I was dressed, but because the sunlight reflected off of the ribbons and embroideries with a metallic glint, betraying the fact that they were made of real gold. Something that was never fully noticeable under the lantern light during the Winter Balls.

I grew a fond smile as Seren stepped into the courtyard from the main building she had to cut through to arrive here. She didn’t look all that differently from usual. Her auburn hair was braided over her shoulder again, but a bit more elaborately with ribbon in it that matched the pastel green, summery dress she was wearing.

Seren, on the other hand, came to a halting stop at the sight of me, blinking profusely, before shaking her head and continuing to draw closer. Albeit with much more hesitant steps.

“H-Hi,” she greeted me, after she’d reached me.

“Good morning,” I said with the same fond smile still plastered to my face. “Are you ready to head out?”

She nodded a bit more jerkily than normal before we both headed off to the river, making some sparse conversation along the way down. Along the river’s shore, a river boat lay in waiting for us, and we boarded it after some words of greeting with its captain.

The journey south, towards Mazliach, was further filled with sparse conversation, which mainly consisted of me talking about the region and the few sights we passed along the way. The latter not becoming relevant until we were about halfway to our destination, as it was only then that we sailed passed villages that lined the river’s shores. Up until then, all we passed were farmlands and forests belonging to Paideia.

Mazliach itself was a city built on the northern shore of Lake Fides, the centre from which the city-state governed its surrounding lands. The city proper was made up of three walled districts. In the centre was the old city centre, which was built on a hill close to the lake by settlers from the eastern shore of the Mediarene Sea, from the coastal region of southwestern Mitaria. The second-oldest district was the docks, or rather, the small stretch of land between the old city and the shoreline where the docks were. The newest was the largest and wrapped around both other districts.

From down in our approaching boat, we could see the warehouses lining the docks and the old city district that rose up behind them, as well as the wooden houses of the outer district that lined the shore beyond the docks district’s walls. The wooden houses having a much more universal look like those of the peninsula, whereas the old district was built in the same style as one could find in the region the original settlers hailed from.

After the boat had docked, Seren and I got off, and I told the captain that we’d be back later that evening, as a polite reminder that I wanted them to wait for us all day.

“Shall we?” I asked, as I offered my arm for her to hook her own into.

An offer that Seren cautiously accepted, before we set off into the city. “So… where are we going that requires us to dress up?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said as we stepped into the main thoroughfare heading towards the old city district. “At least, not for now.”

Labourers were making their way to and fro along the street. Some walking at a sedated pace, others hurried. Some not carrying anything, some leading horse or donkey drawn carts, others carried tools.

Sailors and fishermen were mixed amongst them, with the former heading towards the nearest tavern or back to their boats, and the latter either heading farther into the city or to their fishing boats.

City guards patrolled the street, seeking to maintain order among the mass of people, keeping a specific eye on the alleys lining the thoroughfare and the sparse few groups of armoured and armed people coming and going from one particular tavern-looking building.

As we passed said building, I tried to make myself smaller. Which wasn’t helped by the outfit I was wearing.

People were staring and/or glaring at me.

“Why are we hiding?” Seren asked quietly, barely audible over the hubbub of the city dwellers.

“I just…” I started uncertainly, as I cautiously eyed the local guildhall of the Adventurer Guild. “I’m just hoping I don’t run into a certain someone who’s bound to chew me out.”

“Why?” she asked with some confusion.

I sighed heavily and gave up on my attempt to appear inconspicuous, as we’d passed the building. “Because I do some odd jobs for the Adventurer Guild, and I might not be so… willing in my reporting when I return from them.”

She remained quiet, not saying any more on the subject, as we made our way onto the main thoroughfare that cut through the docks district from both ends, which led to the outer district. Workshops, eateries and stalls lined both sides of the street, creating a cacophony and making Seren hesitantly draw closer to me.

We spent most of the day strolling around, browsing the wares on display, starting with some stalls serving street food. Again, the conversation was sparse and rather one-sided, but I chalked it up to Seren being preoccupied with something or another.

Shortly before the sun would start to set, we made our way up towards the old city district. As we left the docks district behind, the buildings shifted from the stone and plaster workshop-houses that lined the main thoroughfares to more traditional four-room houses and shops. Though the houses shared the same style as those further east, they were bigger, wider and more squashed.

The district was laid out in a spiral, with the main thoroughfare curving around the hill the old city was built on, inclining all the way to the palace-temple complex at the top. The houses and shops were built in a terrace style, with the buildings lining the hillside of the street and their rooftops accessible through the inclined street around back.

Almost to the top of the hill, I led Seren onto one of the rooftops, this one belonging to a restaurant that offered its clientele a view of the docks district and Lake Fides below. A waiter led us to a table right next to the rooftop’s railing, ensuring our view was unobstructed.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Seren said softly, after the waiter had taken our drink order and left us to peruse the menu, before continuing at my look of confusion. “Any of this. Dressing up. Coming to Mazliach. Getting us a seat at what appears to be a very fancy restaurant.”

“I did it because I wanted to,” I said with conviction, as I took her hand in mine.

It almost appeared as if she flinched and wanted to pull her hand away, but she didn’t, and she turned her gaze away from me and to the lake and the setting sun. “This is a lovely view, though. It’s… so calm. Especially compared to the bustling down there. It’s… almost as if it never existed…”

I hummed in agreement, as I joined her in watching how the lake slowly shifted from the glittering brightness it gave off during the day to the more muted brightness during the sunset. “It’s one of my favourite places in Umbrea. I used to come here as a child, and later with my family, just to stare out at the lake and admire the shifting colours. It made me wish – foolishly, as I never had much interest in anything that wasn’t related to magic – I were a painter.

“Some find the half-sunken city of Auralume, with its waterways and canals, to be enchanting, but I much prefer sights like these.”

“You’ve been to Auralume?” she asked with both concern and confusion, as her head snapped back to me. “I didn’t think a lich, even one such as yourself, would be able to set foot in the capital of the Luminus States, into the heart of the Church of the Holy Light.”

I slowly returned my gaze to her and nodded. “I have. A few times. But that was a long time ago. However, I don’t think they ever knew I was ever there.”

She shook her head. “Why though?”

I shrugged, before I picked up the menu. “Curiosity.”

She heaved a sigh, as if she wanted to question me on it further, but let the subject drop in favour of reading the menu herself, and silence fell over us. Again.

The restaurant’s menu contained a select variety of local fish dishes, along with some non-fish starters, side dishes and desserts. River fish, caught by the local fishermen, paired with olives, figs, breads, and other vegetables and spices that fit the city’s inhabitants’ eastern roots.

The waiter returned to pour us both a glass of chilled white wine, before leaving the enchanted carafe on our table. Having taken our food orders, he left us alone again. However, the silence that had fallen over Seren and I, did not abate with either his arrival or his departure. The both of us were content with just staring out over the lake, watching the colours and brightness change with every moment the sun dipped lower.

“So, what were your children like?” Seren asked, after the waiter had served our starters, finally breaking the silence.

“Joyous,” I answered with some melancholy. “And curious. They had my husband’s heart and my curiosity. Especially our second, our son. Even at the age of two, you could tell he was something special, something that could one day have brightened the whole world.”

Whilst I was getting lost in my memories, she silently ate some pieces of spelt bread dipped in spiced olive oil. “What about the others?”

“Huh, oh, our oldest daughter was a gem in her own way,” I said, whilst absentmindedly eating some of the goat-milk cheeses with honey, figs and toasted nuts in them. “She was a natural social butterfly, making fast friends with just about anyone. She would usually head off into the city to find someone to help in the small ways she could as a mere child.

“Our youngest daughter… I would have loved to find out how she would have turned out…” I drifted off, as grief gripped my non-existent heart, and my face darkened as I lowered my gaze to my plate.

“How… How old were they when you… you know, lost them?” she asked carefully, hesitantly, after a few beats of heavy silence.

“Five, two and… three months,” I basically breathed out.

A pregnant silence hung over us as we finished up our starters, neither of us daring to speak. Me, because talking about my long-lost family still hurt, especially my children. Her… I wouldn’t know, all I knew was that she remained tongue-tied.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly said, after the waiter had taken our starter plates and delivered our main dishes.

I looked up at her in surprise and confusion. “What for?”

“For bringing up your children,” she said apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel bad. I was just… curious. I mean, you’ve mentioned them before, but you never really told me anything about them.”

I shook my head with a soft chuckle. “It’s fine.”

The silence that fell over us now wasn’t nearly as heavy. It was more akin to our usual, comforting silences.

“Have you ever thought of avenging them?” she asked, shattering the silence.

“Yes,” I answered truthfully and decisively. After all, I had attempted to do just that a very long time ago.

The rest of the dinner was rather... stale, with sparse conversation and long stretches of awkward silence.

By the time we headed back to the river boat we had arrived with, night had fully settled and the stars, made visible due to the clear skies, glistered across the surface of the lake.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find it in me to enjoy them.