The fire had burned lower, its once lively flames settling into a steady glow of embers and soft crackling heat. The night wrapped around the camp in a quiet stillness, broken only by the occasional sound of shifting wood and the distant hum of the dwarven village settling into rest.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The weight of the past still lingered in the air.
Asura leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes no longer fixed on the fire but somewhere beyond it, as if the memories still lingered just out of reach. His voice, when he finally spoke again, carried none of its usual sharpness.
"…And that's how my mother died," he said plainly. "After that… they threw me out. Exiled me into the woods while I was still just a kid."
The words landed heavily.
Not dramatic, not exaggerated.
Just real.
Solarynth sat beside him, silent at first.
He had listened to everything.
Every moment, every memory.
And yet… there was a gap within him.
He didn't understand it fully.
He had never known parents. Never felt that kind of connection. Never experienced what it meant to lose someone like that.
But even without understanding—
He felt something.
A quiet, unfamiliar weight pressing against his chest.
"…I'm sorry for your loss, Asura," Solarynth said, his voice calm but sincere. "It must have affected you… more than I can understand."
Asura let out a small breath, almost like a tired exhale, before shaking his head slightly.
"You don't have to be sorry," he replied. "It's not your fault to begin with."
His tone wasn't cold.
Just matter-of-fact.
The camp fell quiet again.
But this time, it wasn't empty.
It was shared.
Grace shifted slightly where she sat, her earlier irritation completely gone now. Her expression softened as she glanced toward Asura, guilt faintly visible in her eyes.
Rook stood nearby, arms crossed, his usual stern expression unchanged—but his silence carried meaning. Omen, beside him, looked toward the fire, his gaze distant, as if recalling something of his own.
Louis remained still, his posture composed, but his eyes reflected something deeper.
They all understood.
In their own ways.
Omen was the first to speak.
"…It's okay to lose someone important," he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual. "That's just how life works."
He paused briefly, then added,
"It doesn't make it easier… but it means you had something worth losing."
Rook let out a low breath through his nose before speaking next.
"When someone you love becomes a memory," he said, his tone firm, grounded, "that memory becomes a treasure."
He didn't look at Asura directly.
But the words were meant for him.
Louis nodded once, his voice calm but carrying weight.
"May there be comfort in knowing," he said, "that someone so special will never truly be forgotten."
Asura didn't respond immediately.
But for once—
He didn't brush it off.
Grace finally spoke, shifting closer slightly, her voice softer than before.
"…I'm sorry. For earlier," she said, glancing at him. "The slap… I really regret that."
She hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"And… I've never experienced losing someone like that. Not like you did."
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"I can't fully understand it… but I know it must've hurt."
Asura looked at her for a second.
Then gave a small shrug.
"…I probably deserved the slap," he muttered.
It wasn't quite a joke.
But it was close.
Not far from them, Steel Beard stood by his grill, turning a thick slab of meat over the fire. The sizzling sound filled the quiet, the rich scent spreading through the camp.
He hadn't said a word the entire time.
But he had listened.
Every bit of it.
"…Tch."
He clicked his tongue lightly, more to himself than anyone else.
"Damn depressing bunch…"
He didn't look at them.
But his hands moved faster now, finishing the cooking with practiced efficiency.
"Alright, enough of that," Steel Beard suddenly said, his voice cutting through the mood. "You lot look like you're about to start crying or something."
He grabbed a large wooden plate, placing several thick, freshly grilled steaks onto it before walking over.
"Eat up."
He handed the plate directly to Louis.
"Share it."
Then, without waiting, he reached back and grabbed a small jar, setting it down near the campfire.
"And here," he added. "Flavor, if you want it."
The jar sat close to the heat, the contents slowly beginning to melt. Butter—rich and golden—softened into a smooth liquid, ready to be spread over the meat.
Steel Beard stepped back, crossing his arms.
"Food's better when it's hot," he muttered. "Don't waste it."
The atmosphere shifted not completely.
But enough.
The fire crackled softly as the group gathered closer, the warmth returning in a different way now—not just from the flames, but from something shared between them.
Loss, understanding.
A quiet sense of connection.
The warmth of the fire settled deeper into the night as Louis took the plate from Steel Beard without a word. The meat still sizzled faintly, juices glistening along its surface as thin trails of steam rose into the cool air. With steady hands, he portioned it out, cutting through the thick steaks before handing the first piece to Rook.
Rook accepted it with a quiet nod and passed the plate along without hesitation.
Omen took his share next, then Grace, the motion flowing naturally around the fire until each of them held their own portion. It was simple, almost routine—something done countless times before.
Soon, everyone had food.
And the camp, for a brief moment, felt normal.
Solarynth sat still.
The steak rested in his hands, warm against his palms, the scent rising toward him in slow, unfamiliar waves. His eyes lingered on it—not with hunger, but with quiet observation.
This…
Was his first time.
Not just eating this kind of food—
But eating anything in this world since the moment he arrived.
Everything about it felt… foreign.
The texture, the smell, even the warmth it was different from anything he had known before. Back then, sustenance wasn't something he needed to think about. It simply existed as part of him, part of what he was.
But now—
He had a body.
And that body… needed this.
Beside him, Asura held his own piece, equally unsure, though for a different reason. His life in the Dark Vern Woods had been built on survival—raw meat, quick hunts, no refinement.
Cooked food?
That was new.
"…So this is what you people eat?" Asura muttered, turning the steak slightly in his hand.
Solarynth glanced at him briefly.
"It appears so."
Around them, the others had already started.
Grace took a bite, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. Omen ate steadily, focused but relaxed, while Rook handled his portion with the same grounded calm he brought into battle. Louis remained composed, eating without waste, every motion deliberate.
To them—
This was ordinary.
To Solarynth It wasn't.
He lifted the steak slowly, bringing it closer, studying it with quiet intensity. The scent alone carried layers he couldn't immediately process. It was rich, deep almost overwhelming in its complexity.
Carefully, he extended his tongue just slightly, testing the surface.
A pause.
His eyes narrowed faintly.
Beside him, Asura did the same, taking a small, cautious bite, chewing slowly as if trying to understand what exactly he was dealing with.
"…It's… soft?" Asura muttered, confused.
Before either of them could continue
Steel Beard's voice slammed into the moment.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
Both of them froze instantly.
Steel Beard stood near the grill, arms crossed, staring at them like they had just committed something unforgivable.
"You poking it? Tasting it like it's some kind of experiment?" he barked. "Eat it. Properly. It's not gonna grow legs and run off your plates."
A brief silence followed.
Solarynth blinked once.
Asura slowly turned his head toward him.
"…I think we offended him," Asura muttered.
"…That seems likely," Solarynth replied calmly.
They both looked back at the steak.
Then at Steel Beard.
Then back again.
Without another word—
They took a real bite.
And everything changed.
The moment Solarynth bit into the meat, his entire perception shifted. The texture gave way instantly tender, warm, nothing like resistance or force. The flavor followed immediately after, spreading across his senses in a way he had never experienced before.
It wasn't just taste.
It was layered, complex.
Alive.
His eyes widened slightly—not dramatically, but enough to show something rare.
Surprise.
Beside him, Asura froze mid-chew.
"…What… is this?" he said under his breath.
Neither of them hesitated a second time.
They took another bite.
Bigger.
Then another.
Gone was the caution.
Gone was the hesitation.
Solarynth ate with quiet intensity, his movements still controlled, but far faster now. Every bite seemed to pull him deeper into the experience, as if he were trying to understand it while simultaneously not wanting it to end.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
He felt something simple.
Something human.
Asura, on the other hand, completely dropped any pretense.
"…This is insane," he said between bites. "Why does it taste like this?!"
Solarynth didn't answer immediately.
He was still processing.
Still adjusting.
"…This form… requires this," he said quietly. "And… it is… effective."
Even then, the words didn't fully capture it.
Across the fire, Grace couldn't help but smile.
"First time eating proper food?" she asked lightly.
Asura didn't even look up.
"…Don't talk to me."
Omen shook his head slightly, a faint smirk appearing. Rook exhaled quietly, something close to amusement passing through him.
Louis simply observed, calm as ever.
"…They'll adapt," he said.
Steel Beard snorted from the side.
"Took you idiots long enough," he muttered, turning back to his grill. "Acting like I served you dirt."
But there was a small hint of satisfaction in his voice.
The fire burned steadily as the group continued eating, the earlier heaviness fading into something lighter. Not gone but eased.
And as Solarynth took another bite, his gaze resting briefly on the flames.
There was a quiet realization within him.
This world wasn't just something to understand.
It's was something to experienced.