⚔️Serberia

Somewhat tired, Renold was returning from a difficult but productive training session. He was quite pleased with the results: he felt much more comfortable in light armor. As he approached his chambers, Ilva caught up with him and practically dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. "Hi... so, how was the training?" his sister asked from a distance, glancing at the fresh cuts and bruises adorning his hands and shoulders. "Hi. It was okay," Renold said, rubbing his forehead with his index and middle fingers. "I learned how to handle light armor. Now, I hope it will be a little harder to 'die'." He added hesitantly. "Listen, I'm sorry," his sister interrupted him, slightly guilty. "I said some stupid things in the heat of the moment, but you're trying so hard for us." Ilva lowered her eyes, counting the dust particles on the worn floor of the estate. "Sometimes I act like a spoiled girl." "Yeah, that's true," Renold mumbled. "What?" "Uh, I mean, don't worry about it. It's just that I wasn't fighting well. The others did fine." "Anyway, here, so you can train more successfully," Ilva said, handing her brother a package from which a fragrant aroma emanated. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned." "Hmm, is this 'Joy'? My favorite," Renold said, exaggerating slightly. The only dish that Ilva excelled at was indeed delicious and literally added to his vitality, but he was already hoping to see some variety from his sister. "Okay, you enjoy it, and I'll go. I have so much to do," Ilva said, blushing slightly. She gently placed her hands on Renold's shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him, this time on the lips. "I hope we can have a free evening at least tonight," she said with a smile as she said goodbye. Renold saw his sister off with warm feelings, then unwrapped his meal and began to devour it greedily – he had little energy left after the training. After finishing his meal, he replayed the recent battle with the dendroids in his mind. Now, every time he thought about the tree-like monsters, a lump of fear and disgust rose in his throat. He needed to do something about it. Perhaps Doctor Eisen could offer some advice? He just hoped his clinic was open today. Confidently getting to his feet, the young man quickly threw his travel cloak, clumsily sewn by Ilva, over his shoulders and headed to the doctor's clinic.