Anthesis of Sadness
Chapter 42: Silent Complicity

Chapter 42: Silent Complicity

We eventually arrived at our destination: the Iron Feast.

Imposing, the building looked as if it had been carved from a single block of black rock, as though it had been torn from the very bowels of the mountain itself. A large sign made of raw metal, studded with rivets, hung above the double doors: it showed a hammer crossed with a fork, engraved in relief like crests. The smell wafting from inside was intoxicating—a mix of roasted meat, smoky spices, and fresh-baked bread.

Two statues of Gorr’Shan warriors flanked the entrance. Their stone faces bore the same tattoos as their living counterparts: warrior spirals, runes of strength, tears of war. Their crossed arms held an axe and a tankard each, symbols of honor and camaraderie.

— Here we are. I said with a smile.

Lysara nodded gently, silent as always, but she had drawn a little closer to me. Perhaps a sign of anticipation. Or simply curiosity.

Pushing open the door, we were greeted by comforting warmth and a muffled bustle. The inside of the Iron Feast was vast, carved amphitheater-style. The polished stone tables were arranged in concentric circles around a central hearth where massive cuts of meat hung roasting above glowing embers. Muscular slaves—or perhaps very well-paid employees—slowly turned them using chains and pulleys attached to the ceiling.

War banners decorated the walls, telling tales of ancient battles in gold and bronze thread. Each table seemed occupied by mercenaries, blacksmiths, or off-duty officers, their deep voices forming a constant hum punctuated by guttural laughs and the clinking of mugs.

We were guided to a table near the hearth, in a stone alcove carved directly into the wall. The heat from the embers bathed the area in an orange glow, and despite the room’s hustle and bustle, a strange calm surrounded us.

I sat across from Lysara. She sat without a word, hands laid flat on the table, her eyes following the flames, hypnotic. Her face, as closed off as ever, revealed nothing. But she hadn’t refused to come—that was already something.

The server returned, holding a rough slate covered in clumsy carvings representing the day’s dishes.

— Something light for the little one? he asked, casting me a sideways glance.

I nodded.

— Nothing too spicy or too rich. And no alcohol. You got berry juice or something like that?

He nodded.

— Very well. Then for her, a plate of fried root cakes with a mild sauce, and a glass of marrowvine nectar. For me... something more substantial, but no gryphon meat—I value my purse.

The server gave a knowing smile before walking away.

I turned to Lysara, who hadn’t moved an inch.

— That alright with you? I asked gently.

— Yes.

Still that neutral tone, that blank stare. But her fingers were gently tapping the table’s surface, as if following a melody only she could hear. A small sign of life.

— You know, it makes me happy we can relax a little. These past days have been... a bit too rough, even for me.

She slowly lifted her eyes toward me, then whispered:

— ...Do you always talk this much?

I blinked, caught off guard.

Then I burst out laughing.

It wasn’t mocking.

It was genuine. Real. She had just jabbed at me. And she knew it.

She slowly raised her eyes to meet mine again and nodded. Her black kimono absorbed the firelight, giving her an almost unreal glow.

The meal arrived soon after. The cakes were still steaming, golden and crispy, served with a small bowl of herbed cream. She took the first one without hesitation, tasted it, then took another bite—still without changing her expression.

— You like it?

— Yes.

I smiled. That single word, coming from her, meant more than any speech.

She didn’t need to say more. It wasn’t politeness. It was a bare truth, delivered like an offering. And I was here to receive it.

We ate in silence, but it was a pleasant silence. Not the kind that weighs on you or crushes you—no. The kind that comforts. The kind that connects.

One day, she might talk more. One day, she might laugh. But tonight, this silence was enough. It healed me. It healed us.

The day had passed in an almost unreal calm.

That evening, we returned to the inn for a simple meal, warmed over a wood fire. Nothing exceptional, but after a quiet walk and the subdued turmoil of the city, it was enough. Lysara ate in silence, as always, her gaze lost somewhere between the table and the shadows of the beams.

Then, once again, the night was gentle. Uninterrupted. And for the second time in a row, I woke without the slightest trace of fatigue. My body, my mind... everything was clear. Light.

In the morning, we set off again, enjoying this interlude while we could. This time, we wandered a bit longer through the market districts, tasting here and there some strange sweets: solidified honey pearls, red fruit braids coated in black sugar, and even a roasted hazelnut paste sold by an old Gorr’Shan who guarded his recipe jealously.

With the few krags I had left, I wanted to treat Lysara. She hadn’t asked for anything, of course. She never asked for anything. But I saw her linger a bit longer in front of certain stalls, her gaze pausing, almost curious.

— Here, take this, I said, handing her a sweet rolled in a copper leaf. It’s sweet. And weird. Sounds like you, right?

— Yes.

A discreet reply. A slow bite. And again, that calm between us.

But this time, she didn’t immediately look away.

I thought I saw a twitch of her lips. Just a flicker.

As if she were savoring the taste... or the gesture.

The sun had dipped before we even noticed, and soon the shadow of the towers once again covered the streets. I patted my pockets.

Not a coin left.

I let out a brief, slightly nervous laugh.

— Well... looks like the reserves are officially dry. Maybe I went a little too hard on the comfort, huh?

Lysara turned her head toward me and slowly shrugged. Her expression remained blank, but the silence she returned felt almost complicit.

I smiled.

— Let’s go to the guild.

She simply nodded, and we set off, walking along the dark, silent streets. The sun had disappeared behind the heights, and the reddish glow of wall torches gave the stone a warmer hue than usual.

The guild building loomed before us, massive, carved from the same black rock as the rest of the city, but adorned with intricate engravings and worn banners. A double door of riveted metal guarded the entrance. I pushed it open without hesitation.

Crossing the threshold, my eyes widened, glowing with wonder once again.

Lysara entered beside me, discreet, her gaze sweeping the room without emotion. She didn’t seem impressed or worried. Just... present.

As I turned to step further in, my gaze met that of a familiar figure behind the counter.

The usual receptionist. Tall, hair hastily tied, looking both bored and sharp. She lifted her eyes from her papers and fixed them on me, a small smirk forming on her lips.

— Back again, huh?

I approached casually, raising my hand with an imaginary coin between my fingers.

— Yeah. I’m broke.

She chuckled softly, crossing her arms.

— Maybe I shouldn’t have recommended such expensive spots to you.

— That’s true... But we made the most of it, I said with a glance at Lysara, who was studying a wall tapestry like it didn’t really exist.

Then I continued, more seriously:

— By the way, our rewards. Have you had time to process what we sent? The Zar’Kha swarm carcasses—any progress?

She sighed slightly while checking a ledger.

— Our scout confirmed your report. You really crushed the swarm. Impressive work... especially with just the two of you. But we’ll still need two or three more days to bring back all the remains to town and tally up the usable resources.

I let out a small sigh, my mouth twisting into a mock-disappointed grimace.

— Ah, so that’s how it is...

But before I could say more, she added:

— However, I can already give you the base reward for the extermination. Since the verification’s done, no need to wait any longer.

I straightened a little, mock-solemn.

— I’d be grateful... please.

— Of course, she said with an amused smile.

She pulled out the quest sheet, aligned it on a registration stone, then stamped it with a magical seal that hissed softly. Then she opened a hidden drawer under the counter, took out a small metal chest, opened it, and began counting coins.

Then she handed me the reward.

An enormous sum.

— This isn’t normally a quest for your rank. But the complete elimination of the swarm has been confirmed. So here: six Varkh.

I stood frozen, blinking.

— Varkh? I repeated, still in shock. For that swarm?

I recalled the figures swarming around me, the rapid movements, the inhuman screams.

Those insectoid monsters with obsidian carapaces bristling with chitinous blades... Their sudden leaps at me, like living projectiles. Their clawed limbs tore the ground, and their tails whipped the air with enough force to shatter a stone wall. They didn’t hunt... they stalked. In packs. Relentlessly.

Without my regeneration ability, I wouldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes against that black tide.

I took the coins carefully, feeling them almost burn in the hollow of my palm. Slowly slid them into my pouch, which I tucked deep into my cloak, pulling it tightly around me with jealous care.

This was more than a reward. It was silent recognition, a validation that everything I had been through—the pain, the monsters, the creeping madness—had not been in vain.

As if each coin contained an echo of the Swarm.

As if the metal itself had been forged in suffering.

— Thank you, I murmured, closing my arms around the cloth like a dragon guarding its treasure.

I bowed politely to the receptionist with a nod.

— Thanks again. Really.

I was no longer just a survivor.

I was a guide, a recognized fighter. And somewhere behind me, a child followed me, grew.

And I had the responsibility not to fail.

— Keep your head on straight, huh. Wealth spends faster than it piles up, she grumbled in return.

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