Chapter 4 - 3 - My Sweet Little Sister
Though his body still trembled and his breath hadn’t fully steadied, Riven kept walking home.
Not to his home, of course.
He moved carefully, weaving through broken fences and scattered debris, away from the fortress and the now-ghostly town that had once been bustling with life. The house he was returning to lay on the outskirts of town, far from the other homes. Its secluded location was exactly why no one ever came looking.
That house had once belonged to an old wine merchant—at least, that’s what a few remaining townsfolk had told Riven when he asked around. But the owner had fled in a panic the moment word of Arkham’s invasion reached the town.
And for Riven, that was an opportunity.
He had watched the house for a whole day, making sure there were no traps, no sudden return of the owner, no nosy neighbors peeking through curtains. Only after confirming it was safe did he and Mira quietly move in.
That had always been their way of life.
Moving from one abandoned home to another. Following the scent of battle—not to fight, but to survive. Scavenging the wreckage of war for scraps, for food, for just one more day together.
The sun was already high by the time he slipped through the cracked kitchen window. He pulled the ragged curtain closed again, careful not to leave a trace. As soon as he stepped inside, the chill in his chest slowly began to melt.
"Finally you’re back!" a familiar, sharp voice rang from the living room. "I thought you were dead or got sold off to goblins!"
Riven turned and saw Mira standing with her hands on her hips, her face frowning but her eyes sparkling. The long-haired girl looked like a mix between a sweet child and a little witch who worried far too much.