By the fire, as its light flickered and played across the walls, we began to talk together. The warm glow of the flames wrapped around us, and Daneel fixed his eyes directly upon me.

  “I found you by the side of the gravel road, lad — covered in blood. From what I can tell, you’ve come from far away. Tell me, then. Who are you? Where have you come from, and where are you headed?”

  At her husband’s blunt questioning, Arwa frowned slightly. Her voice carried a trace of irritation, though it remained gentle.

  “Daneel, the young man has hardly recovered. Could you not let him rest a little? What is the rush? You behave as though something precious were about to be snatched from the flames.”

  I could feel their concern. It was plain they cared for me. To reassure them, I offered a faint smile and gathered myself before speaking.

  “Arwa, thank you for your kindness. I feel quite well. My memory is somewhat clouded from striking my head, but I shall try to explain who I am. My name is Aleksandu, though everyone calls me Alek. A war broke out in the city of Parha, and I lost everything — my family, my work, my home. I have neither coin nor shelter left.

  From what I have heard, the city of Apsa is full of opportunity. So I resolved to go there. I set out from Parha towards Apsa, but the road was long and exhausting. Hunger, thirst, and fatigue overcame me, and I collapsed. You know the rest. Had it not been for kind-hearted people like you, I should likely have perished.”

  My words lingered in the room for a moment. A shadow of sorrow crossed the elderly couple’s faces. Daneel pondered briefly before drawing a deep breath.

  “Parha lies very, very far from here. In my youth, I travelled there by ship. I was a soldier then. Parha was a lively, prosperous place — many different peoples living side by side. To have walked such a distance by land is astonishing. The Gods truly wished to keep you alive.

  Your journey was filled with dangers: hunger, thirst, wild beasts, suffocating rivers, treacherous cliffs… and worse still, the cruellest enemy of all — ruthless marauders. To have reached this place alive is nothing short of a miracle.”

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  Arwa sighed deeply at his words. Her eyes glistened, as though she herself had endured that long and painful road.

  “Oh, my dear! What a life of suffering you have had. But you are here now — safe. And Apsa lies only a few hours away. War… you greedy, merciless monster! You devour everything — the innocent, the homes, the hopes…”

  Tears slipped from her eyes like pearls. Seeing his wife thus moved, Daneel stepped closer and laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder. The tears in her eyes held the tenderness of a mother mourning a lost child.

  At the sight of it, my heart ached. Perhaps as people grow older, they truly lose some mastery over their emotions. In youth, painful memories are veiled in mist; in age, the mist clears, and one must face the sorrows once thought forgotten. Would I be the same when I grew old? Would the shadows of my past find me too?

  Daneel’s voice drew me back from my thoughts.

  “Forgive us, lad. My wife’s memories stirred. When she saw you, she was reminded of our son. We could not have children for many years, but the Gods finally blessed us with one. That was the happiest day of my life. Our boy was about your age. He wished to follow in my footsteps and became a soldier… but he left this world far too young. His loss made me withdrawn — a closed man.

  Since then, we have been alone. But do not be troubled. My wife has seemed happier since you arrived. The past merely caught her unawares. We old folk sometimes cling too tightly to our memories.”

  The old man’s voice carried sorrow, yet also the quiet acceptance of long-held grief. I bowed my head slightly and replied sincerely.

  “I have taken no offence whatsoever. I owe you endless thanks for Arwa’s delicious meals, for the warmth of your hearth, and for your hospitality. Without you, I might easily have frozen to death outside. You have been my guardian angels.”

  My words seemed to bring a measure of peace to Arwa’s face. The sorrow in her eyes softened.

  “My dear, did you truly enjoy my cooking so much? Then I shall prepare the finest dishes I can for you. We have not known you long, yet I feel as though I have known you for years. There is something about you — something I cannot quite explain.”

  Daneel, seated quietly beside her, nodded in agreement.

  We talked by the fire until darkness fell. Our words drifted into the warmth of the room, dissolving into the quiet flow of time.

  Here, people retired early — or perhaps it was simply that this elderly couple were accustomed to rising with the dawn and resting soon after dusk. As there were no separate rooms, we arranged ourselves in different corners of the single space, positioned to benefit most from the warmth of the hearth.

  At first, the thought of sharing a room with others would have unsettled me. Yet here, beside them, it brought a strange sense of comfort.

  Before sleeping, I witnessed their prayers to the Gods. Compared to my former world, the people here were far more devout.

  To adapt, I joined them in prayer, and so I settled into the night within this foreign yet strangely welcoming world.