The heavy silence of the infirmary at Town Allure pressed down on my chest like a sheet of solid iron. When my eyes finally blinked open, the familiar, sterile smell of yarrow and stinging peppermint didn't bring comfort… it only heralded a crushing weight of reality. One week. I had been bedridden, drifting through a feverish oblivion for seven whole days, and the toll of my absence was nothing short of catastrophic.
I tried to shift my weight, but a sharp, blinding fire flared across my spine, forcing a choked gasp from my throat. The deep, jagged furrow Dominik Meyer had carved into my back was far from healed, the skin was tight, hot, and bound in heavy, medicated linen shifts that did little to ease the agonizing reminder of my failure. But the physical torment was nothing compared to the devastation waiting for me in the reports left at my bedside.
The Flower Manor, my home, my sanctuary, and the very foundation of everything I had built, was gone. The news arrived not as a description of a battle, but as an obituary for a monument, the entire estate had been reduced to nothing but ash and blackened stone, completely leveled by the fires and subsequent chaos. With those ashes, my dreams of running the premier guild of the Eastern District were utterly shattered.
The grief of the structure was eclipsed entirely by the horrific realization of what had happened beneath it. I was the one who had coordinated the evacuation. I was the one who personally ushered the maids down into the dark safety of the basement, believing the reinforced doors would keep the Bronze Coin vultures at bay. Knowing that Dominik had bypassed those defenses, that he had slaughtered every single one of them with a sickening, remorseless glee while I lay paralyzed, left me completely traumatized. The phantom sounds of their final, desperate moments played on a loop behind my eyelids, a deafening chorus of a tragedy I should have prevented if only I had been faster, sharper, or stronger.
The structural ruins were quickly followed by the total, irrevocable collapse of our guild roster. The reports detail a mass exodus that felt like a succession of betrayals and tragedies. Our bronze-ranked pillars, Luke, Luck, and Maine, had completely abandoned the adventurer lifestyle. The horror of the manor siege had broken their spirits, fracturing their minds until they could no longer bear the sight of a blade. Worse still, rumors from the underground suggested the trauma had driven them into the fringes, reporting that these fractured hooligans had sought refuge within a criminal organization, forever tainting their legacies.
Following them, the silver-ranked vanguard, Ned, Natalie, Barry, and Carin, had collectively hung up their weapons. They quit adventuring entirely, choosing instead a quiet, mundane existence working at the meat shop in the town square. They had traded the glory of the hunt for the safety of butcher blocks, terrified of ever crossing paths with the Bronze Coin high command again.
But the final, fatal blow to my spirit was the news regarding our vice leader. The official records from the Bureau listed Roxy as deceased.
I stared at the parchment, my trembling hands making the paper rustle like dry leaves. The report stated that she had succumbed to her wounds, but the truth whispered by the guards was far more tragic, driven by a frantic, unyielding need for vengeance, she had dragged her broken body to the Town of Tata to hunt down Dominik Meyer on her own. The reckless crusade had backfired terribly. She had been overwhelmed, dying in the shadows of that distant town while fiercely maintaining her willpower until her final, agonizing breath. They had already buried her, erecting a cold, silent tombstone in the cemetery to mark where the proud vice leader of the Flower Manor now lay.
The shock paralyzed me, turning the blood in my veins to ice. Roxy was dead. The girl who had stood by me, the one who had bitten into the very flesh of the monster to save my life while I was pinned to the kitchen floor, was gone. And as I looked out the narrow window of the infirmary toward the gray, weeping sky of Town Allure, the truth settled heavily in my gut, I was the leader, I was the hunter, and I was the one entirely to blame.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the scent of fresh apples and ozone broke the suffocating stagnation of the room as my mother, Snow Flower, walked into the infirmary. She held a basket of winter fruits tightly against her chest, her eyes etched with a profound, bone-deep exhaustion that mirrored my own. Her silver hair, styled in its usual dignified braid, caught the dim candlelight, matching my own pale locks in a way that had always made us look like two sides of the same coin. Behind her, the head doctor stepped forward, his hands already glowing with that familiar, warm golden light.
For the past seven days, while I lay trapped in the gray mists of my fever, this man had been healing me non-stop. As the magic washed over my skin once more, I could feel the deep, jagged furrows across my back shifting. It was a strange, unsettling sensation, the phantom itch of muscle fibers reconnecting and the slow, deliberate alignment of torn tendons knitting back together. The wound was almost healed, but the phantom weight of Dominik's steel still lingered in the marrow of my bones.
Snow set the basket down on the bedside table and rushed to my side, her cool fingers gently brushing a stray lock of silver hair from my forehead.
"Darling, what happened? Is something bothering you? You look as though your spirit is still fighting a war out there in the dark."
I swallowed the lump of grief in my throat, forcing my voice to remain steady as I looked away from the memory of the burning manor.
"Mother, I am fine, where are my brothers? Are they all right?"
Snow squeezed my hand, trying to offer a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her tear-rimmed eyes.
"Well, the Calico brothers, Calix and Cassius, are already in Caria City. Because we no longer have a home here, because the Flower Manor is nothing but ash, we are moving out. We will leave for Caria by noon today. We are going to live at the Calico Manor now. I promise you, darling, we will be alright there. We will rebuild."
Before I could process the sudden reality of abandoning Town Allure, the infirmary door was pushed open with a sudden, urgent thud.
Constantine, the middle child of the Calico brothers, stood on the threshold. His clothes were slightly disheveled from travel, his breath coming in short hitches as his eyes scanned the room until they locked onto me. The relief that washed over his rugged features was instantaneous. He closed the distance between us in three long strides, sinking to his knees beside my pallet.
"Sister, are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
I managed a weak nod, reaching out to touch his arm.
"It's okay, Constantine. Why didn't you come to Caria with the others? Why are you still here?"
He took my hand, holding it firmly between both of his own, his palms rough and warm.
"I was working with Lord Phillip to secure our family's assets after the raid, but I will be alright. You need to get out of this place, White. You should meet my brothers in Caria; I swear to you on our family name, they will protect you with their lives. You must leave at noon. Town Allure is no longer safe for us, the Bronze Coin shadows are still lingering in the alleys."
Constantine stood up, gently releasing my hand as he gestured toward the narrow window overlooking the courtyard.
"I've already packed up your things. Your wounds should be healed enough to travel by now, and the carriage is waiting right outside the infirmary gates. It's time to go, sister."
The golden light faded from the doctor's palms as he stepped back, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead. He gave a small, respectful bow.
"Lady White, your wound is now healed. The flesh has closed completely. You can move now, Lady White."
The announcement felt distant, a clinical reality that didn't touch the hollow ache inside my chest. Bracing my hands against the mattress, I shambled out of my bed. My legs felt like lead, stiff and unresponsive after a full week of absolute immobility.
The moment my feet touched the cold stone floor, the world tilted slightly. Constantine caught my elbow, his grip firm and steady as he tried to support me. He looked at me with a worried frown, recognizing the sheer exhaustion behind my posture.
"Careful, sister. Don't force yourself too quickly."
My mother stepped in on my other side, her gentle hands anchoring me.
"I will help you, darling, let us take you to the carriage. The air outside will do you good."
Together, the two of them guided my faltering steps out of the dim, oppressive air of the infirmary. The midday sun of Town Allure hit my face, blindingly bright and completely indifferent to the tragedies that had unfolded beneath its watch. The carriage stood waiting in the courtyard, its polished wooden frame a stark contrast to the ash and ruin we were leaving behind.
Constantine opened the door, helping me climb the small steps before stepping inside himself. My mother followed, settling onto the cushioned bench beside me, her hand immediately finding mine.
As the driver cracked the whip and the carriage began to roll forward, the iron gates of the keep fell away behind us. We were moving into Caria City. The clattering of the wheels against the cobblestones felt like a rhythmic closing of a chapter.
The name felt like a phantom scar, but there was no room for ghosts in Caria. The Flower Manor was gone, its people scattered or buried, and the girl I used to be had died in that kitchen. Now, nestled between my family and heading toward a new manor, I had to let the dead stay dead. I had to start a new life.
"Forget the past, Forget the smoke, forget the screams, and especially... forget Roxy."