Chương 46: The Player's Exam

It was already evening outside. Autumn leaves drifted slowly down onto the windowsill, spinning in the air as though reluctant to part with the branches they'd clung to all summer. The sky had long since clouded over — gray, heavy, hanging low above the rooftops — and a light rain tapped softly against the half-open window, leaving thin, winding trails on the glass that merged with one another as they trickled down.

Somewhere in the distance, beyond the rooftops, thunder rumbled faintly — rare, almost reluctant, as if autumn itself hadn't yet decided whether to unleash a real storm or settle for this dreary, drawn-out drizzle. Lloyd's room was steeped in soft half-light. The only source of illumination was the desk lamp, casting a warm yellow circle over a desk cluttered with old notebooks and a couple of yellowed books.

The rest of the room dissolved into bluish twilight, and the walls, papered in faded wallpaper, looked almost black in the places the light didn't reach. Lloyd sat on his bed. Some of the bandages had already been removed; the skin beneath them was still pink and slightly tight, but his right arm remained fully wrapped, resting heavily on the rumpled blanket. He lay half-propped, one hand supporting his head, the other holding his phone as he lazily scrolled through the news feed.

The screen cast a dim glow upward onto his face, making it look paler than usual, the shadows under his eyes deeper.

"So it's already been three days since I got out of the dungeon." He drew a deep breath — the air was damp, carrying the scent of wet leaves and approaching rain, with a faint hint of wet earth that seeped in even through the barely open window. The smell strangely calmed him, reminding him he was home again, among familiar things, not stuck in those cramped, damp stone corridors.

"I can't get enough of this wonderful air. After those tunnels, this is pure bliss." From the kitchen came a quiet sizzling — something frying in oil, crackling and popping — followed by a warm, appetizing smell of fried onion and eggs reaching Lloyd's nose, making his stomach growl low and insistent. While Lloyd had been injured, Rozi had been cooking for him. Their father had left on a business trip right around the time Lloyd set off on his "trip," and still had no idea how badly his son had been hurt.

Lloyd had asked Rozi to keep quiet about it, and though she frowned every time the topic of his bandaged arm came up, she'd kept her word.

"He's got enough on his plate already." He glanced toward the half-open bedroom door, where a shadow flickered in the hallway — Rozi moving back and forth between the stove and the table, the floorboards creaking faintly under her light steps. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"Rozi seems to suspect it wasn't just some ordinary trip. But thankfully, she doesn't ask too many questions. Looks like she's got enough problems of her own." Her voice carried in from the kitchen — bright, but with a hint of tiredness, the kind that comes from standing too long at the stove: — Lloyd, it's ready! His stomach growled in response, as if agreeing to the invitation faster than Lloyd himself could. — Coming!

He shoved the phone into the pocket of his hoodie, winced as he leaned on his bandaged arm more than he should have, and slowly got up from the bed. The floorboards creaked underfoot — a familiar, homey sound, nothing like the hollow, ominous echo of the underground tunnels that still surfaced in his memory at the most unexpected moments. Lloyd and Rozi ate fried eggs at the small kitchen table, dimly lit by the lamp overhead, its light reflecting softly in the rain-streaked window glass.

Beside them stood a pitcher of purple compote — dark, almost ink-black, with slices of plum floating in it — and a bowl of salad that smelled of fresh dill and a light tang of vinegar. Outside, the rain grew heavier, its steady drumming on the eaves blending with the quiet hiss of the cooling pan still sitting on the stove. They ate in silence, glancing occasionally at their phones, each lost in their own thoughts.

Rozi sat across from him, cheek resting on one hand, her dark hair pulled back into a loose bun, faint shadows of exhaustion under her eyes — she'd clearly been sleeping little these past few days, torn between school, housework, and worry over her brother, whose real reason for his injuries she could only guess at. The old wall clock in the kitchen ticked steadily, a little louder than usual in the quiet, broken only by the clink of forks against plates and the sound of rain outside.

Then, in his news feed, Lloyd came across an article about the upcoming Player's Exam. He choked on his compote in surprise, coughing so hard he nearly dropped his phone, a dark purple drop trickling down his chin. Rozi only shot him a dark, reproachful look over the rim of her glass, saying nothing, and silently slid a napkin toward him. Lloyd cleared his throat, feeling heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment, and wiped his chin.

"The Player's Exam. How could I have forgotten about that?" He hurriedly finished the rest of his dinner, trying not to get distracted further, though his thoughts were already spinning around the headline he'd just read, churning at the back of his mind with a persistent, nagging noise that refused to settle. Thanking Rozi for the meal — she only nodded briefly, not looking up from her phone — Lloyd got up from the table and headed back to his room.

The floorboards creaked as he took a running leap onto the bed, the mattress springs groaning in protest, a stack of old textbooks on the shelf above the desk wobbling and nearly toppling before settling again. He lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, where blurred shadows from the streetlamp outside played across the surface, fractured by the raindrops on the glass into a strange, trembling pattern that stretched and shrank with each gust of wind outside.

The rain outside showed no sign of letting up, and somewhere far off, thunder rolled again — louder this time, as if autumn had finally made up its mind. A draft from the half-open window stirred the curtain, and it swayed gently, letting in another wave of cool, damp air.

"Well then, I need to find out more about what this Exam actually involves..."