⚔️Serberia

Carefully adjusting the recently hung children's drawing, Ilva stepped back a few paces and, placing her hand on her hip, critically examined the wall adorned with the artwork. "Yes, this looks good." She nodded decisively, her tone businesslike, and turned her gaze to her roommate. "So, what do you think?" The tired Renold was sprawled in front of a small dining table, where a cup of unfinished coffee had been sitting since morning. "I think it looks great," he said, forcing a cheerful tone. "Hmm, or maybe it should be moved over there..." Ilva murmured thoughtfully. "Then we could move the cabinet to its place, and the chest of drawers to the left." "But I think it looks perfect as it is," Renold quickly interrupted. "It looks perfect to you," his sister grumbled, dissatisfied. "But you hung the old sword as a battle trophy, when its place is at the market or in the storage room." "No way," Renold said, casting an affectionate glance at the weapon hanging on the wall. "We've been together since childhood. A weapon is a warrior's soul; you can't treat it like that." Ilva muttered something in response but didn't argue, and went outside into the small but cozy garden. Here, her eyes were pleased by the beautifully grown rayflowers, cheerfully smiling in the spring sunshine. Bending over the flowers, the girl created a stream of pure water on the tip of her index finger and carefully began to water the plants. Ilva began to think about how else she could decorate her new home. This always lifted her spirits and distracted her from the unpleasant memories associated with her recent trip to Tamfana. The big city hadn't looked the way she had imagined. And the horrors they had encountered in the stuffy dungeons of the lake had made her put off any talk of leaving Baldur for an entire month. On the other hand, Ilva was burdened by the uncertainty associated with the baron's assignments – when would this madman send them on another deadly mission? They were his wards, still children, not a squad of mercenary thugs. She wanted to find a way to break out of this vicious cycle, but to her disappointment, she saw absolutely no way to carry out her plan. The door slammed shut behind her, and Ilva turned around: Renold, in full armor, was heading towards the main road. "I'm going to check out the training hall," he said, as expected, when he was level with his sister. "Don't stay out too late," Ilva said, giving her daily instructions. "And don't be late for dinner." The lovers exchanged a warm farewell kiss and went about their business. Renold, inspired by Gungnir's instructions, hurried to find out the details of the new training session, and Ilva, having finished her chores, decided to take a walk to the market to buy groceries and ingredients for a new magical coffee that Claudia had taught her how to make.