Mersem opened his eyes to realize he wasn't in a tent anymore. He wasn't even in the Pike Mountains with Leara and her guildmates. Instead, his mind registered the empty fireplace, the wooden walls, the domed ceiling, and the empty chairs and tables in the middle of the room. It looked so much like the cabin he lived in back home except this one was void of various knick knacks he, Silke, and his father had amassed over the years. Hell, the cossum chair wasn't even there.

"Mersem," a familiar voice called him. He whirled to the source to find Silke behind him, in the flesh.

He blinked. "Wh-what's...how are you here?" He looked around and frowned. "Where even is here?"

Silke gestured to placate him. "Calm down, Mers," she said. "I had Vera call your mind-presence as soon as you fell asleep."

Mersem knitted his eyebrows. "Vera?" What was his sister talking about? Moreover, why was she glowing with a faint white outline? Was he dead? Did an avalanche occur somewhere and killed him on the spot? Damn, he hadn't even made a move with Leara.

She sighed. Even the sound felt so real and not whatever she called this situation to be. "I'm here to tell you about what happened in the Palace and why you shouldn't look for me anymore," she said. Then, she turned to an empty spot beside her. "Vera, come out. It's just Mersem, the one I'm telling you about."

The air shimmered and a boy younger than Mersem stepped out from nowhere. Mersem stepped back, his mind barely keeping up with the weirdness happening to him lately. Then, he paused and narrowed his eyes, noting the scarlet red hair, the sharp, brown eyes and the beige skin unusual in Solon. "He's a boy," he said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Silke rolled her eyes.

Mersem stalked towards her. "What are you doing with a boy?"

She crossed her arms. "What are you doing with Leara Madris?"

He opened his mouth then closed it. All the words vanished into snow smoke in his head. Well, that's...

"That's not what I came here for," Silke waved her hands in the air and inclined her head at Mersem. "You should go back home and forget your stupid quest in finding me. I'm fine. See?" She spread her hands to prove her point.

He shook his head. "Why are you doing this, Silke?" he shoved his fingers into his hair and surprisingly found it still stuck to his head. "And who's that boy over there called Vera? Who names a kid like that?"

"I am a mage from Lotherne's royal court. You would do well to show some respect," the boy stepped forward and shoved Silke behind him. No one does that to his sister. "I am tasked to get Caeda back to her family."

"Look, I don't know what weeds you have been inhaling, kid, but this is my sister," Mersem made sure he towered over the mage-boy-whatever-he-was even though mere inches separated the level of their gazes. "You just can't take her anywhere. Besides, who's Caeda? Who names a kid like that?"

Silke pushed past Vera and cleared her throat. "Mersem, would you please just listen?" she snapped. Her impish face contorted with annoyance much like he was used to back home. Yeah, this was Silke, alright. "I'll explain everything. From the start."

Mersem huffed. "Please do because I'm having a hard time believing Mister Shiny Scarlet Hair over there."

"Caeda, you didn't tell me your brother is a hooligan," Vera whispered to Silke.

Something snapped in Mersem's mind. "Why, you—"

"Guys!" Silke screamed, the sound of her voice almost enough to rattle the wooden planks making up the cabin's wall. Mersem stopped midway in stalking towards the mage boy to give him a proper lesson. In the space between them stood Silke with her cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes misting with tears. Silke, crying? What for? "Please," she drawled. "Just listen to me."

Mersem pursed his lips and stepped back once more. Silke wiped the back of her hand past her nostrils and jerked her head at Vera. "Hide for a little bit," she said. "I can handle this."

The mage boy flashed one last dark look in Mersem's direction, to which he stuck his tongue out to, and vanished into the air in the same way he appeared. That's still awesome in Mersem's directory but he wasn't about to admit that. His gaze landed on Silke who cleared her throat and blew a breath. "So, are you ready to listen to me?" she snapped. "No questions, this time. Just...shut up."

He nodded. Silke did tell him to shut up and when she did, he didn't like what would happen if he started talking.

Silke massaged her temples with one hand as she paced towards the dining table and pulled up a chair. "Vera found me when we're running from the armory as soon as I pulled the sword out," she recounted, folding her hands atop the table. Mersem followed suit and dropped in the seat next to her. For a dreamscape or whatever this was, the chair felt solid against his butt. "He's the one who knocked you, Haeral, and Chenric out and delivered you to the hospital in Zarasel. Haeral and Chenric, however..."

Mersem averted his eyes. He didn't need Silke to continue to figure out what might have happened to his friends. They were foolish enough to attempt stealing from the Striden Order's stocks. Silke shook her head as a silent understanding passed between them. "So, Vera helped me escape and hid me in the obscure towns in Zarasel, at least until I was able to accept the things he told me."

"Such as?" he prodded.

She frowned. "That I was the lost heir of the royal family of Lotherne," she said. Mersem opened his mouth to say something along the lines of it being ridiculous but Silke shot him down with a withering glare. "The sword is apparently a symbol of the Fire Foundrings—beings who once controlled the forces in our world—and it has been passed down generations and used to determine the next ruler of Lotherne based on the purity of their blood to wield the Last Ember."

She leveled her gaze at Mersem. "It just happened that the Foundring blood was the purest in my lineage, the Roddark Dynasty," she said. "They happened to be the ruling monarchs of Lotherne a few years ago, before they were killed."

Mersem stuck his bottom lip out. "I overheard some of the servants inside the Palace talking about it," he said. "Do you know who did it?"

Silke shook her head. "Vera told me they still haven't ruled anything yet."

"After all those years?" he said. "I find that hard to believe."

She rolled her shoulders. "It is what it is."

"Yeah, you're coming home with me," Mersem reached out and gripped Silke's wrist. "Father might know something about this. Maybe he could help us."

Silke clawed against his grip, her sharp fingernails enough to scratch his knuckles. "Don't you understand?" she said. "Father and I are not related. Maybe you two aren't, either."

He paused. She was able to loosen his grip and reclaim her arm. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Of course, he's our father. You're my sister. We grew up together. Did stuff together. We couldn't be unrelated."

A bitter laugh tore off his lips. "You're seriously believing that mage boy over your family?"

Silke had an incredulous look on her face. "Don't do this to me, Mersem," she matched the tone of his laugh like she couldn't believe this was happening either. "Just don't."

Mersem scoffed. "Where are you even planning to go after this?" he said. "Where are you now? Where am I? What is this sorcery?"

"Vera, as he said, is an esteemed mage in the Lothernean court," Silke explained. "He could cast spells and stuff that would create a space in the dreamworld as he wished. So I had him pull your dreams towards this place just so I could talk to you. We're in the outer town in Krigisa called Portensk and we're headed to another town called Dofrise tomorrow. We—"

"Okay, that's enough," Vera's hand and voice speared through the air and the boy stepped into view once more. "Don't tell him any of our plans. Not until he was working with that Striden Knight."

Mersem stalked forward and grabbed Silke again. "Come on, we're going home."

She squirmed against his grip. From the corner of his eye, a flash of silver sped towards him. He ducked his head under an arm as the sound of fabric ripping echoed in the halls of his mind. When he looked up, he was sitting up inside the tent with Leara Madris looking at him like she had just seen a ghost in the wilderness.

"Mersem?" she asked, worry lacing around her tone. She had never used that tone anywhere in the past few weeks he had been with her. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

He resisted the urge to scoff. Nightmare? More like a reason to join the weather in throwing a tantrum because of how things were going for him. He found Silke, alright. The biggest problem was that she didn't want to go home with him. She was choosing to live a life of adventure, chasing some wild fantasy about her being a lost heir of Solon's rival kingdom with a random mage boy fueling it.

A huge weight dropped into his shoulders. Everything he did to get to this point, every hardship, every moment spent freezing in the cold. It was all for nothing. Silke didn't want to go home with him. Hell, she didn't even think of him and their father as family anymore as soon as the truth about her pulling a random sword out of some stone blew into her head.

What's Mersem supposed to do now? It's not like he could wrestle her away with that mage boy guarding her like a hunting hawk. Then, an idea popped into his head. His gaze landed on Leara, with her face still frozen with a concerned look, and he smiled. Of course. If he couldn't get rid of the mage boy, perhaps, Leara and the other hunters could.

It's a dangerous game he was going to be playing from this point onward. He has to let Leara deal with the mage boy but he also has to stop her from killing his sister. It's hurting his head just thinking about it as it reminded him of his idiotic attempt to walk on a thin layer of ice over a frozen lake long ago. One wrong step, one crack, and everything could be over for him, for Leara, or for his sister.

Despite her clear warning to turn back and forget the quest and the notice even existed, Mersem couldn't leave her alone to be hunted by greedy mercenaries and ambitious bounty hunters. He had to help her somehow.

First things first, though. He had to bring her home.

Mersem flashed Leara a grim grin. "I know where the thief is," he said. "And I know where they're going."