Anthesis of Sadness
Chapter 41: The Luxury of Breathing

Chapter 41: The Luxury of Breathing

I walked through the inn with determined steps, but the worry of not being able to freshen up nagged at me. I approached the counter, where the man behind it stood, a tired but welcoming smile on his face. I thought I might be able to ask the question discreetly.

But before I could open my mouth, he seemed to guess my thoughts, for he added in a calm tone:"The rooms are equipped with bathtubs, but as for showers, alas, that’s a luxury reserved for larger cities. If you wish to relax after your journey, the bathtub should suffice."

A slight sigh escaped my lips, a little disappointed by the lack of a shower, but the prospect of several baths to rid myself of the accumulated blood and sweat gave me back some courage. However, another question crossed my mind: my clothes. I couldn’t really put them back on after a bath in that state... I grimaced.

I turned to the man at the counter, a little embarrassed. "Do you have something for washing clothes?" I asked, hoping for a quick solution.

He answered me with a calm smile, as if he was used to that kind of request. "Yes, we have staff skilled in cleaning magic. Leave your clothes at the entrance of your room, they’ll come collect them and return them once clean."

That suited me perfectly. I thanked him with a nod, relieved.

"Perfect," I replied, before continuing. "How much is it per night, with dinner included?"

"Four Drek, meal included. It’ll be ready in an hour, but you can have it later if you wish," he replied.

I thought for a moment. The price was reasonable, and the tranquility of the place suited me well. "I’ll take two rooms for two nights, meals included," I said, handing him one Zarn and six Drek, making sure the payment was sufficient.

The man accepted the coins without blinking, an appreciative smile on his face. "Very well, your rooms will be ready. You can settle in and take your time."

I turned away, a little more relaxed, ready to enjoy what the inn had to offer.

Heading upstairs, I made my way to the two adjacent rooms. I handed a key to Lysara, giving her instructions for her clothes and bath, asking her to clean up and be ready in an hour.

She nodded before heading to her room. I didn’t wait another second and pushed open the door to mine. A sigh of relief escaped me as I entered. A bath. What a luxury after such a journey, even if the fatigue was already weighing on me.

I undressed quickly, taking care to cover my private parts with a towel. I placed my clothes in front of the door, along with my empty bags. The three gourds remained in the room.

I turned on the bath, eager to feel the hot water on my skin. But when I opened the tap, I was disappointed. It wasn’t hot water, but cold water that flowed. A shiver ran down my spine as I dipped my hands into the icy water. I scrubbed my body with a cloth, wiping away the dried blood that had soaked into my skin. I was exhausted, and the cold water only added to my discomfort.

Until the water turned reddish, I emptied the bath and started over. This process repeated several times, the cold biting into my skin, but I had no other choice. Little by little, the blood faded, and I began to feel a little cleaner, though still freezing.

Eventually, after several rounds, I managed to get rid of most of the traces. The water was still cool, but I had done my best. I got out of the bath, shivering slightly, and dried off as best I could. Fatigue swept over me again, but I knew I had to take care of my clothes first.

Still wrapped in the towel, I walked to the door where I had left my clothes. Opening it, I was pleasantly surprised to find my clothes neatly washed and dried. They were spotless, like new, without the slightest trace of blood or dust.

Ah, magic... I thought to myself. It worked miracles. The care with which they had been treated made me smile. Not only were my clothes clean, but the inn staff’s work seemed to have been done with impressive precision. All I had to do was put them on, and I could finally relax a bit.

I took my clothes, put them on quickly, and after taking a moment to make sure they were perfectly dry, I headed toward Lysara’s room.

Arriving at her door, I knocked gently, then waited a few moments.

"Are you ready?" I asked, eager to finally relax over a good meal.

The door opened, and Lysara appeared, her gaze neutral as usual. She nodded silently.

"Let’s go eat then," I added, glad to finally enjoy a bit of comfort after the day we’d had.

We both headed to the common room, ready to enjoy a well-earned meal.

I sat down at a table near the fire, relieved to finally breathe a little. A hot, steaming stew was in front of me. The tender meat melted in my mouth, enriched with vegetables simmered in a spicy yet comforting broth. Every bite restored my strength, and the smell of the dish almost intoxicated me, erasing the accumulated fatigue. The beer, cool and slightly bitter, paired perfectly with the stew, bringing a touch of simple and immediate pleasure.

I took a big sip of the drink, feeling invigorated, and looked over at Lysara. She, for her part, hadn’t taken any beer, of course. Instead, she was enjoying her own dish: a bowl of similar stew, but accompanied by a violet-hued juice, apparently from some exotic fruit of this world. She drank it without emotion, as if it were just routine.

But I saw her fingers tighten slightly around the bowl, just for an instant.

As if, despite herself, she wanted to hold onto it.

I lingered for a moment watching her, then turned my attention back to my own meal, sinking into the comfortable seat of my chair. The meal warmed my entire being, and I allowed myself to close my eyes for a moment, savoring the simplicity of the moment.

Once the meal was over, we made our way to our respective rooms. A warm smile spread across my face as I looked at Lysara, my voice soft and calm. "Good night, see you tomorrow," I said before turning and entering my own room.

She didn’t answer, but her gaze no longer avoided mine. She existed. Here, now. And I was a witness to it.

It had been so long, I thought as I entered. A real meal, a real night—what could be better? The warmth of the fire, the comfort of the room, the feeling of finally being safe from the dangers of the journey. It was almost unreal.

I lay down on the bed, letting the softness of the blankets envelop me. The mattress, much more comfortable than what I was used to, welcomed me like a caress. Fatigue quickly overwhelmed me, my muscles relaxed after the exhausting day.

But a nagging thought struck me just before sleep took me.

This world never offered peace for free.

And I knew that, sooner or later, this respite would have a price.

I closed my eyes, a light smile on my lips, and fell asleep instantly, plunged into a restful sleep, far from worries and dangers, in this luxurious comfort I hadn’t known for far too long.

...in this almost unreal comfort, as if the world had stopped for a moment to let me breathe. Just one night. Just a truce.

I woke slowly, lulled by the daylight filtering through the gaps in the curtain. A gentle warmth bathed the room, peaceful, almost unreal.

How long had it been since I’d slept like that? A full night, without nightmares or interruptions... It had been so long.

I felt rested, light, almost euphoric. My body was relaxed, my mind clear. A pleasant sensation of well-being washed over me, I was simply in a good mood.

Wanting to enjoy this bright day, I decided to go for a walk in the city, to taste a bit of the magic of this fantasy world. But before that, I headed to Lysara’s room and gently knocked on her door.

She was already waiting for me. Standing, dressed in her usual kimono, she seemed ready. Her face, always impassive, showed no trace of fatigue—she too had clearly slept well.

— Come on, follow me. Let’s go for a walk in the city. We need to savor these peaceful days while they last! I said with a smile.

Upon leaving the inn, the brisk air gently struck my face. The sky, pale gray, let a milky light filter through the heavy clouds. The city stretched before us, austere and majestic, as if frozen in a forgotten era.

The streets paved with black slabs wound between the angular buildings, all carved from volcanic rock. A low rumble rose from the city’s depths: the hammering of forges, the huffing of bellows, the metallic cry of newborn blades. The smell of hot iron mixed with the subtler scents of tanned leather and burned herbs. A stone golem slowly crossed an alley, carrying crates full of weapons under the orders of a master artisan barking instructions.

I glanced at Lysara, who walked beside me, impassive. Her dark kimono strangely matched the somber tones of the city. Her steps were slow, almost floating, as if she were gliding more than walking.

— It’s impressive, isn’t it? This city... It has something raw, alive. It’s like it breathes.

She nodded with a simple tilt of the head, without a word. Her gaze drifted for a moment toward the heights.

Farther on, stalls crowded a livelier street. Merchants shouted, praising goods as strange as they were fascinating: glass-encased salamander eggs, hand-sewn shadow cloaks, rings engraved with runes that shimmered with changing hues. Children ran between the legs of adults, playing with stone marbles and griffon feathers.

— Do you want to stop here? Maybe something interests you?

— No, she replied softly, without turning her eyes.

I smiled. I was used to her curt answers, her even tone. She only spoke when necessary—if that.

We kept walking, circling a black basalt fountain from which reddish water sprang, probably infused with minerals. All around, passersby seemed to ignore us, absorbed in their routines. Here, even the bustle felt disciplined.

In the distance, the Iron Bastion still dominated the horizon. Immense, unyielding, its towers of black stone stood like fangs against the sky. Suspended bridges connected the peaks, defying balance, and one could see, tiny, the silhouettes of archers stationed along the battlements.

— Do you think we’ll get to enter up there one day? I asked, eyes raised.

— Yes.

Another slow, mechanical nod. But I thought I saw a glimmer in her eyes. Faint, almost imperceptible. Maybe she liked this city too.

I didn’t insist. Sometimes, you have to let hearts reveal themselves at their own pace. And she—she had never had the luxury of loving anything freely.

I said nothing more. There was nothing to add. The city spoke for us.

So I could at least offer her this: the luxury of simply existing. Without chains. By my side.