After dinner, the friendly host provided some blankets. "I'd offer the bed, but my room is very crowded. Two people would not fit."

"That's alright," said Lena, sitting on the carpet in front of the fire. "It's actually quite comfortable on the floor."

"I'm glad. I'm signing off now, I need to get up in a couple of hours. Do you need anything else?"

Both shook their heads and wished her a good night. 

The house was now empty of voices, but silence it never attained. The furniture threw dancing shadows from the sizzling fire, while the roof's wooden boards and beams crackled and creaked, and the howling wind whistled the songs of the mountain. As if paused with a remote, the sky remained at its pale state; never bright and never dark.

"When does night arrive?" asked Lena, after having mulled over its strange delay for a few minutes.

"Not for a while. Since we are at the northern pole, the sun will hardly ever set, and its moons rise just as rarely.

"Boreas has a moon?"

"Seven actually."

"That's crazy! I have never seen a moon! What is that like?"

"Where would one begin to describe it? I doubt that anything within the range from concise description to colorful story could do its image justice. I can't possibly paint a picture in your head that will fascinate you as much as a midnight's full moon."

"I will just have to patiently wait until I can see it with these eyes of my own."

"Hopefully, one day you will."

His subtle smile let Lena assume that it was a fitting moment to come forward with heavy information. She was not sure how to begin, and said, "Hey Finn?" before having built the sentence.

"What is it?"

"I have to tell you something, and it might be distressing to hear."

"Just say it."

"I saw your father's rocket on Pluviam. I think he might still be there."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure, yes."

"How can that be? They left weeks ago, I saw it! You were there, you saw it too."

"I know. I have no explanation for it either. I hope you're not upset."

"No, of course not. And especially not at you. If anything, I'm glad you told me. But—still, why would he be there?"

"Probably to look for you."

Finn was sitting on the couch, his legs covered by a thin blanket that looked like a floor rug with an interesting design of shapes and lines. He scratched his jaw while looking at the back of Lena's head. They were both staring at the fire. 

"I wonder if I can find a way to connect to him, let him know that we're here."

"It should be possible, right?"

"Yes, somebody in this village should be able to provide the necessary technology."

The books on the shelf looked old. Most carried dust, and those who didn't must have been read not long ago. All had dark colors; dark green, dark blue, dark red, and browns and blacks.

"Are you tired?" he asked, seeing her gaze at the books.

"If I'm honest, at this point, I'm not even sure anymore."

"I feel the same."

"Would you like to read something with me?"

"What?" His eyes went back to the shelves. "You want to read a book? Now?"

Lena turned to look at him. Leaning back against the foot of the couch, her elbow rested next to Finn's arm. She nodded at his question.

"Sure, okay. Which one would you want to read?"

"You choose."

Finn made his way over to the shelf, reading one title after another until his eyes stopped at one written by a certain Osric K. Sutherland. The book had its place at the top, right beneath the gable ceiling, where even Finn had to stretch his body to reach it. He wiped the dust off the book's plain cover.

"Perhaps, this one will suit us," Finn read its golden title, "Of Seven Silver Moons."

"On Pluviam I read hundreds of books, I even reread my favorite novels, day in, day out. Here and then I traded them for new ones, but eventually I had seen them all. I'm excited to see what unheard story this one tells."

Before unfolding to the first page, Finn insisted that Lena would take the couch for comfort, and in the end, after some debating, she agreed and switched spots with Finn. While admitting to the softness of the carpet, Finn stood by his opinion that Lena should not have to sleep on the floor.

He was the one leaning against the cushion now, with Lena's head next to his, and her eyes following the words that passed his lips. She was huddled into a burgundy fleece blanket with a snowflake print, despite her body feeling baked.

"Here we go." Finn cleared his throat and read with a calm voice, "Along the unbroken ice, I walk tirelessly. My dented, soiled armor wears loose around the body I drag forward with these legs that can hardly brace. My shield; scratched and gravely damaged, mirroring the condition of its bearer. The helmet that sits tightly upon my head had kept me alive and hid my face of youth in a shroud of war. My sword, the powerful blade of silver, I let it sink into the snow, to stay here, to join my brothers. Fresh snow is falling and will soon wash away any visible reminder of what once happened in the mountains of Thrake." Finn paused.

"What made you stop?" asked Lena in awe.

"Listen to the wind," he said, looking out the window, "close your eyes as I go on."

Lena covered her bare feet with the blanket and brought its other end up to her nose.

Finn continued, "Now I stroll the lands back to my home, through a long way. Here I will carry my regretful melancholy in the fields of white, unlike the lands I battled. A land which I had never seen. A land filled with simple complexity on a divine scale. I'm a fool. Like many others. I fought for honor when in reality all was for blood. I believed in the king's promise. I believed his every word and followed the leaders to the youngest of the eight sisters; the goddess that once shaped the mountains single-handedly, to then become the moon that, to this day, watched over her land until its bitter end had come. The stars drift in the soft mechanisms of the universe. I see them. All of them. But I do not see their beauty any longer, and our moon, the eighth goddess, is gone. Her love was mortal, but I know mine is not."

Finn blushed and slightly turned his head to see that Lena's eyes were closed at peace.

"I don't believe in much anymore. Many have lied to me, and many more will. Upon the lands exists one beauty, someone I trust to always be truthful. Someone I could not stop loving, even when the final arrow bores my heart. It will still beat passionately, for eternity, for you. I am returning for you only. I always will. I will travel any distance, I will fight any enemy, I will walk through fire, I will walk on ice, I will swim every ocean and pray to the seven silver moons to see your smile once more."

Again, Finn checked after Lena's uninterrupted state of peace. Her hand rested next to his shoulder, which he studied for a moment, before returning to the brown pages of the book he had stopped reading. His eyes were stuck between the lines.

"The mere touch of your hand unleashes the utmost valuable secrets of the universe. Why stars pass, why moons shine, how fire moves and snow lies still. How one is born, when the other dies. I understand the very foundation on which everything relies, by just one precious touch of yours. You take my hand and bring light to the darkness. You heal any damage inside of me; you are my very source of life. You are the center of my universe and with each heartbeat I have left, I will defend your every breath."

The book had silently closed before Finn had even finished his last sentence.

"Are you asleep?"

Lena gave no answer, which to Finn was answer enough. He put Of Seven Silver Moons aside and sat looking at the fire. A faint smile snuck onto his face.