He looked through the window at the faint dawn light. The scent of fresh bread was beginning to seep from somewhere in the city, mixing with the cold morning humidity. His body was still stiff from the poor sleep, and his clothes were stained with sweat and dirt from the long journey.
Niklaus entered the small bathroom attached to the room in silence. His steps were quiet, but he felt an invisible heaviness in his movements. The place was as he had expected: simple, barely serving its purpose.
A small cracked mirror in the corner, a medium wooden bathtub, and water as cold as the frost of dawn.
He opened the small window, letting the air in. A light breeze carried the scent of the damp morning, while outside, light was slowly beginning to appear, scattering its pale threads over the rooftops, as if the city was breathing anew after a long night.
He took off his clothes and stepped into the tub. The water was cold enough to fully wake him, but it was also what he needed to organize his thoughts, to erase the traces of that dream that still left a heavy mark on his chest.
He raised his hand to his face, ran his fingers over his forehead, then looked at his reflection in the mirror, staring at a face that had become more familiar to him than it should be.
The dream… why did this dream keep coming back? Why, despite everything, did he always feel that it was more than just illusions?
He was aware that this body was not his previous body, that he was now Niklaus von Valderin. But something inside him hadn't forgotten that he had once been Arthur. Yet, since waking up in this body, he hadn't felt the strangeness he had expected. There was no conflict between his new and old consciousness. Worse than that…
He didn't talk to himself as if he were Arthur, but as if he really was Niklaus.
His thoughts followed a pattern that wasn't strange to him. He remembered people and events in a natural way, though somewhat confused, but he still understood them. As if everything was already part of him, as if there had never been another person inside him to begin with.
"Am I Arthur… or am I Niklaus?"
He said it in a low voice, not as confirmation, but as a test to himself. Then he muttered with annoyance: This is because of that clichéd novel. I am Arthur.
He felt an internal anger, a boiling sensation in his chest, as if his body refused the idea that he couldn't understand these conflicting emotions. The irritation inside him was eating at his mind. He had to get to the forest quickly to be done with all this annoyance that was starting to make him doubt his identity because of this trivial, disgusting novel.
When Niklaus came out of the bathroom, the air in the room was bitingly cold, as if frost was seeping through the cracked walls, searching for any chance to leave its mark on the skin. He was covering his body with a rough towel tied around his waist, water still dripping from the ends of his hair, falling slowly onto his bare shoulders, making the sensation of cold even harsher.
Outside, snow was falling silently, covering the rooftops with a thin white layer, while the first threads of sunlight began to pierce the horizon, pale as if resisting the night's cold that hadn't yet fully departed.
Niklaus felt that cold gripping his body, but it was no more annoying than the thoughts still stuck in his head. Thoughts he couldn't escape even in the cold water, and which didn't leave him even as he walked back to the room.
The walls of the room were cracked, the mark of time clear on them, and the smell of moisture mixed with old wood. But that wasn't something worth stopping for now.
Ethan was sitting on the bed, though he had been awake for a while but hadn't moved much. His eyes were distant, still trying to process the scene he had witnessed while Niklaus was asleep.
How he had muttered, how his body had convulsed, how his hand had stretched out as if trying to grasp something that wasn't there.
This scene wasn't familiar to him. Niklaus wasn't someone who showed weakness. He wasn't someone who became agitated. He wasn't someone who lost control, even in the darkest situations.
But last night… was different.
He was thinking about it, but not just about what he saw—about what he had known of his master since the moment he first met him.
Since the moment he bought him from the slave trader… The look that wasn't pity, but wasn't contempt, nor disgust, nor arrogance.
It was simply the look of one human seeing another, without categories, without labels, without that condescending gaze he was used to from others.
He had lived his whole life watching people look at him either with disgust, or false pity, or as if he were nothing but something to be bought and sold like merchandise—without a soul, without real value.
But Niklaus… hadn't looked at him that way.
And although Ethan respected him for that reason, every time he thought he understood him, he discovered he didn't really know him at all.
His master Niklaus was like an endless puzzle. Every time he got close to understanding one part, a thousand other, more complex parts appeared.
And as he was thinking about this, his focus suddenly broke.
Niklaus came forward and sat on the bed, the water dripping from his hair falling onto the wooden floor in steady drops.
Ethan lifted his gaze and saw him. His body was wet, water flowing from the ends of his hair, its droplets leaving a trace on the cold wooden floor.
The scene was strange. His master, whom he was used to always being composed, was now facing the cold in silence, naked except for the towel around his waist, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his eyes seeming to carry something deeper than what appeared.
Ethan said nothing, only turned his gaze back to the wall, leaving Niklaus to dry his body and put on his clothes in heavy silence.
Hours later, they had left the inn long ago. Moving through the forest was like walking over a lifeless world that did not acknowledge weakness.
Snow covered the ground in thick layers, turning over time into hard masses that hindered movement. Every step required double the effort, as if the earth itself refused to let them move forward. The scattered trees here were silent, heavy with their white cover, looming on the horizon.
Niklaus and Ethan's boots sank into the snow with every step, and the sound of fabric rubbing against snow was almost the only sound besides their ragged breathing.
The walk wasn't easy, and not just because of the terrain.
Ethan sighed deeply, looking at the changing sky: "Master Niklaus, do you realize we haven't eaten anything all day? I'm literally melting inside here."
But Niklaus, as usual, didn't react to his complaint. He just kept walking, his eyes watching the sun beginning to sink behind the trees, its golden color fading little by little, leaving behind a pale sky about to be swallowed by darkness.
He stopped for a moment, then looked at Ethan.
Niklaus, quietly but with decisive clarity: "We need to find a place to shelter from the snow and cold… and catch something to eat. Otherwise, we won't make it."
Ethan looked at the end of the frozen path, then pointed to a distant spot.
Ethan, with a tired but hopeful smile: "There. It looks like a natural dip—might work for us. And maybe I can find some animals there."
He meant that patch of ground that dipped slightly, where the trees grew closer together and seemed to form a natural shield against the harsh winds.
When they reached the dip, Niklaus and Ethan stood looking around.
The dip was surrounded by tall rocks, partially sheltering it from the wind, and its ground was covered with less snow than other areas, making it seem the perfect spot to spend the night.
Niklaus said quietly: "I'll hunt. You start the fire."
Ethan smiled in triumph. Starting a fire would be simpler than hunting.
While Niklaus went off to hunt, he thought that there wouldn't be many animals in this weather. Still, he began searching carefully among the trees. His steps were silent, his eyes scanning the ground and ice for any sign of life.
At first, he found nothing. Just endless, soundless whiteness, as if the forest itself was sunk in an eternal slumber.
But after a while, he spotted a faint movement.
A group of rabbits moving between the frozen trunks, searching for any source of food before the weather worsened further.
He drew one of his daggers, moved lightly, and with precise skill, managed to hit two of the rabbits quickly, without causing a commotion that would scare off the rest of the group.
He let the others go. He had seen that this was enough.
On his way back, he expected Ethan to have already lit the fire. But when he arrived, the scene was completely different from what he had imagined.
Ethan sat in front of a small pit, looking at the wood with obvious exhaustion, the wind extinguishing every attempt he made to light the fire. He said in a frustrated voice: "I swear nature is conspiring against me right now!"
When he noticed Niklaus's arrival, his face lit up suddenly, then he stood with sudden enthusiasm, before releasing his usual comment.
Ethan, with sarcastic humor as he saw the rabbits: "Oh, Master Niklaus! We've got dinner! Please, tell me you didn't choose the rabbits just because they were the only ones that couldn't escape quickly!"
But he quickly regained his seriousness, then frowned as he looked at the extinguished fire.
Ethan, with genuine complaint: "You gave me a very difficult task."
Niklaus sat down beside him, pulled out his lighter silently, then said quietly.
Niklaus: "You're a wind user. Use your skills to protect the fire from going out."
The idea seemed simple, but Ethan wasn't ready for this kind of challenge.
Ethan, with some tension in his voice: "Oh, well… but I'm a beginner user. This requires a lot of concentration."
Niklaus didn't comment much, just added in a steady tone.
"Trust yourself. And start."
At first, Ethan had real difficulty controlling the wind. The air flowed irregularly, making the fire nearly impossible to stabilize.
But after he focused harder, he began to shape a small barrier of wind—a quiet zone around the fire pit, preventing the harsh wind from reaching it.
Then finally, the flames steadied and stayed lit, not extinguished by the wind.
Ethan let out a short laugh, full of joy and triumph, then said with fake arrogance as if he were about to declare himself a master.
Ethan, with a small chuckle: "Hah! Did you see that?! I did it! Nothing will ever put out my fire again!"
Niklaus looked at him for a moment, but said nothing. He just began preparing the two rabbits for roasting, while his thoughts began to flow again, silent and deep as always.
Niklaus ate quietly, his movements steady, as if it meant nothing more than fueling his body to continue on his way.
Ethan, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.
Ethan, his voice full of satisfaction as he devoured the rabbit: "Do you realize, my lord, that I was on the verge of starving to death?! This food is the greatest thing that's happened to me today. Actually, maybe the greatest thing in my life!"
But in the middle of his noisy chatter, Niklaus's voice came quietly, yet carrying unexpected weight.
Niklaus: "Just Niklaus."
Ethan paused for a moment, looking at him as if he didn't quite understand.
Ethan, raising an eyebrow in surprise: "What!?"