The sun is low, casting a warm glow over the peaceful village. It’s a rare sight. No monsters lurking in the shadows, no ancient curses hanging in the air, just the soft murmur of villagers going about their day.

Richter walks beside you, his hand casually brushing against yours. His usually intense gaze is softer today, taking in the simple beauty of the world around him. The sound of children laughing in the distance, the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air, it all feels so... normal.

You notice the way his shoulders are more relaxed, the way the tension that often clings to him is slowly melting away.

As you both approach the little row of vendor stalls, the aroma of freshly baked bread makes your stomach growl and a lady’s calling attention to her delicious looking strawberries- home grown of course. But some other stands are selling material goods, handmade jewellery, hand carved figures from wood and bone. All beautifully intricate.

And when you glance at Richer, he’s got that look in his eyes, the kind of look that tells you he’s absolutely trying to work out what option is the best little gift for you. If you’re not careful, it’ll be multiple.