I keep staring at the paper in front of me while the quill’s tip hovers above the blank sheet. Funny... after everything I’ve lived through in Thirstfall, writing a few lines still manages to make me more uncomfortable than fighting a maddened Rank C inside an arena.

The first letter I ever wrote here was when I was still a complete idiot.

I was at the peak of my Rank B—arrogant enough to believe that strength solved everything. I spent almost an hour choosing pretty words for a love letter intended for someone who ended up dying not long after.

Camille.

Just thinking the name, something heavy sinks inside my chest.

Camille was the first person in Thirstfall who really looked at me as a human being and not as a tool, a weapon, or some disposable asset. Her death in the trenches still haunts me even two lives later. Maybe that was why I clung so hard to Rae later on. Maybe I was trying to fill an emptiness that never properly closed.

And in the end, it all led back to the same place. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Deepwarden.

Always them.

Including Camil—

"Dryden?"

The light touch on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts like a sharp tug.

I snap my head up and find Rhayne staring at me with a mix of concern and curiosity. She’d been leaning over toward me long enough for me to realize she’d arrived without me noticing.

"Ah... you got here..." Our conversation unfolds in whispers.

"Yes. About two minutes ago." She crosses her arms behind her back and tilts her head slightly. "You were literally in another world."

"Sorry." I rub my eyes. "Got distracted by stupid thoughts."

The silence that follows is strange. Not uncomfortable... just careful.

Rhayne seems to wait for me to continue. When she realizes I won’t, she lifts her shoulders a fraction, eyes resting on the blank paper and the inkpot.

"So... what do you need?"

"Right. Of course." I slide the paper toward her. "I need you to help me write a letter to a girl."

"WHAT?"

Her reaction is so exaggerated and loud that a few people at nearby tables raise their eyes from their books.

I bring my finger to my lips, signaling for silence.

Rhayne’s eyes widen immediately, and her cheeks start gaining a reddish tone.

"For God’s sake..." I murmur, resting my forehead on my hand. "Since when do I look like a womanizer?"

"Hmm..."

She avoids my eyes and stares at her own shoes for a few seconds before answering quietly:

"Yesterday."

I breathe in deeply. Ignoring this seems healthier. Who knows what Veric planted in this girl’s head.

"It’s an invitation letter," I explain. "I want to convince someone to join our plan."

"Ah..." She visibly relaxes. "Okay... that makes more sense."

"She’s a healer. Zhang Xi. Smart, careful, and probably very underestimated inside her own guild. I want to offer her something Silver Fangs would never give."

"I remember her, from the arena, right? Are you offering her money?"

"That, for sure." I give her a small smile. "But not only that."

Rhayne pulls closer to the table and sits in the chair beside mine. Her soft perfume mixes with the old smell of paper and ink from the library, but her presence still radiates a strange quietness, as if a small void were sitting too close.

"Then start writing." She points at the page. "I’ll help."

I dip the quill in the ink.

"Dear Zhang Xi—"

"Too formal," Rhayne interrupts immediately.

"It’s a letter."

"It’s a letter to convince someone. Not a tax collection notice."

"You’re surprisingly bossy. Didn’t know you had this side."

"And you write like an old man. Maybe that’s why Lola called you uncle."

I stare at her for a few seconds.

She stares back.

Then we both end up holding back a laugh and end up stifling a laugh together.

"Who are you? What did you do with Rhayne?" I say in a mocking tone. "Your tongue is sharp today. Veric’s contaminating you."

She lets out a light smile.

But, fine, I give in. "How do I start?"

"Something sincere."

"Sincere is usually dangerous."

"Even so."

I think for a few seconds before going back to writing. Trusting Rhayne, who is pure-hearted, has to be the best play here.

"Zhang Xi. Yesterday, in the arena, you saved my life even knowing the risk."

"Better." Rhayne nods. "Keep going."

"You chose to help someone you had never seen before."

"No." She shakes her head. "That still sounds like a report."

"You’re quite the critic today."

"And you don’t think enough about feelings."

"Ouch."

"Am I wrong, though?"

"...Fair."

I go back to writing.

This time, slower.

Rhayne follows every line practically leaning on my shoulder, pointing out small changes here and there. Less logic. More humanity.

Less calculation.

More warmth.

After a few minutes, we finally finish.

The letter ended up like this:

Zhang Xi,

Yesterday, in the arena, you chose to save someone even with fear staring you right in the face. People like that are rare in Thirstfall.

You’ve probably already noticed how this world works. Talent is used. Kindness is exploited. And the ones who help others usually end up alone.

You were alone.

I don’t want to build something that ends that way.

I’m gathering people to create something larger than money, fame, or power. A place where ability will be valued, but where no one will be treated as disposable.

I can’t promise an easy path. Thirstfall never allows that.

But I can promise opportunity, growth, protection, and people who will fight beside you instead of only standing behind your results.

You deserve more than surviving on someone else’s orders.

If you’d like to talk, find me again. Look for me at the academy. I’ll be waiting.

— Dryden Sands

Rhayne watches the finished letter for a few seconds and then breaks into a satisfied smile. "See? It turned out good."

"It did..." I admit.

I raise my hand toward her.

Rhayne looks at me confused for an instant, but understands quickly. A small smile appears on her face before she slaps her palm against mine.

CLAP.

The sound echoes across the entire library.

Instantly, several "shhhhh" sounds rise from different tables.

Rhayne and I look at each other for a second... and end up holding back a laugh at the same time.

"Now," I murmur, folding the letter carefully, "we just need to post this at the Oathmark."