Chapter 31
I woke up in Emily’s room to morning light slipping through the curtains—and the sudden realization that it was her birthday.
She was already gone.
The hallway was quiet. Haley’s door sat half open, no movement inside. Emily was probably out already—maybe grabbing something small, maybe just… being Emily.
I stepped outside and checked the calendar.
Emily’s birthday. Right after Pierre’s.
I should’ve remembered.
I hoped she liked Amethyst. I had plenty back home.
The farm was still waiting when I got there. The kale was nearly ready, leaves full and heavy. I watered them out of habit, grabbed an Amethyst, and turned back toward town.
Dudley lingered by the door as I left. Then, after a moment, he followed.
I glanced back at him.
“…You coming?”
He didn’t stop.
I wasn’t sure if that meant he missed me—or just didn’t feel like being alone.
When I returned, I found Emily outside, carefully holding an injured parrot.
“Hey Emily, happy birth—”
I stopped when I saw what she was holding.
“Oh! Eric!” she jolted. “I’ll be right there — just drop the present on my table.”
I nodded and stepped inside.
Haley was awake, already frowning.
“Oh. Right. It’s Emily’s birthday…” she muttered. Then she glanced down. “Why is that cat here?”
“This is Dudley. Marnie gave him to me.”
Haley grimaced. “I really hope it doesn’t scratch the couch.”
I set the Amethyst down in Emily’s room. A moment later, she came in, still holding the parrot.
“Another pet?!” Haley groaned. “I don’t want this house turning into a zoo!”
“Haley,” Emily said calmly, “his wing is broken.”
Haley sighed. “I just want this house to myself.”
Emily didn’t argue. She carried the parrot into her room. Dudley and I followed.
The parrot had a small bandage on his wing now, pacing carefully along the floor. Dudley sniffed at him, curious but gentle.
“Poor thing…” I muttered.
“I know,” Emily said softly. “He reminded me of myself.”
I glanced at her.
“Never really fitting into one place.”
The words sat there, quiet.
The parrot fluttered up onto a small rack.
“He also reminded me of you,” she added. “The way you work… like you don’t always stop.”
I hesitated.
“I’ve been trying,” I said. “Eating more. Slowing down.”
It sounded smaller out loud than it had in my head.
She smiled anyway. “I’m glad you had fun yesterday.”
“I didn’t think anything could make up for the Flower Festival.”
Emily exhaled.
“I really wanted it to work. Shane was trying…”
She didn’t finish.
I rested my hands lightly on her shoulders.
“You did what you could.”
She nodded, though it didn’t fully settle.
Then she took my hand, leading me to the kitchen.
Breakfast was simple — pancakes, eggs, hash browns, tea.
“Well,” Haley muttered, “this beats survival burgers.”
Emily laughed. “I hope you enjoy a real breakfast for once, Eric.”
I sat down, the warmth of the room hitting me all at once.
Too warm, almost.
“What are you going to name him?” I asked.
Emily hesitated. “He’s wild. Naming him feels… wrong.”
“Oh, come on,” Haley said. “You think he’s flying back to the forest?”
Emily traced the rim of her cup. “If he wants to leave, he should be able to.”
Dudley meowed beside me.
I looked down at him, then back at her.
“My grandfather had a cat named Dudley,” I said. “That’s where the name came from.”
Emily blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“I don’t talk about it much.”
That lingered for a second longer than I expected.
“He seems comfortable here,” I added. “Even if you don’t name him… I think he deserves one.”
Emily considered that.
“What gender?”
“Male.”
“…Pedro?” I said.
She smiled. “Pedro.”
Haley finished eating quickly.
“That was fast,” I said.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Emily told me she had another dream about you.”
Emily perked up. “I saw you again. In my little world.”
I stayed quiet.
“When I noticed the rainbows, I knew it meant something,” she said. “Most people don’t notice things like that.”
Her eyes met mine.
“I think there’s something special about you, Eric.”
Something in my chest tightened.
Not in a bad way.
Just… unfamiliar.
Haley snorted. “She’s calling you boring.”
Emily sighed. “Haley.”
“What? It’s true.”
Emily didn’t rise to it this time.
“I think… we were meant to meet,” she said instead.
I hesitated.
The words should’ve felt comforting.
Instead, they felt… heavy.
“I don’t know if I believe in that,” I admitted.
Not rejection. Just truth.
Haley rolled her eyes. “She’s being spiritual again.”
“Haley,” Emily said, sharper this time.
“Whatever.” Haley stood. “I’m leaving.”
The door shut behind her.
The room felt quieter after that.
Emily exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
She looked at me, searching for something I wasn’t sure I had.
Then she smiled, softer now.
Pedro hopped in from the other room.
“Oh—he’s healing fast,” she said, gently removing the bandage. Pedro trilled, hopping closer to Dudley.
“You know…” she said, almost to herself, “Pedro does sound right.”
I nodded.
“Let’s see if he stays.”
Or if he leaves.
I didn’t say that part out loud.
I stood. “I should go. I’ll see you at the Saloon.”
As I turned, Emily wrapped her arms around me from behind.
Warm. Steady.
I froze for half a second—just enough to notice it.
Then I relaxed into it.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For being here.”
I didn’t answer right away.
Because I wasn’t sure if I
was—not in the way she meant.
But I turned and hugged her back anyway.
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
Then I left, Dudley padding along beside me.
I stepped outside to see Vincent and Jas sitting together on the grass, while Penny, Sam, and Sebastian stood nearby in conversation.
I scanned the area instinctively.
Huh. No Abigail.
“Ah!” Sam exclaimed when he noticed me. “Speak of the devil!”
“Eric,” Penny said, smiling. “We were just talking about you.”
“Yeah,” Sebastian added dryly. “Apparently it’s Emily’s birthday. And you just
happened to be at her house.”
I froze.
“H-hey! We didn’t do anything!”
Sam burst out laughing. “Sure, you didn’t.”
Before I could defend myself, heels clicked sharply against the path.
“Yeah! A flower dance! And I wasn’t invited!”
Haley stormed over, arms crossed, scowling like she’d been personally betrayed by the universe.
Sam and Sebastian groaned in unison. Penny stifled a laugh.
“You seem upset, Haley,” Penny said gently.
“Upset?” Haley snapped. “That’s putting it mildly! I never got the chance to settle my score with my sister!”
For a moment, none of us could hold it in. Laughter broke out almost immediately.
Haley huffed, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and stormed off before anyone could respond.
Vincent and Jas wandered over just in time to miss the drama.
“Miss Penny…” Vincent whined. “Can we go to the playground now?”
Jas crossed her arms. “No, Vincent. Penny has serious stuff to say to Sam.”
Penny jolted. “Jas!”
We all laughed again. Sam, meanwhile, looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
“It’s… kind of strange seeing you at the Saloon lately, Penny,” Sebastian said after the laughter died down. “I thought you hated that place.”
“Oh, I do,” Penny replied, her tone softening. “But Mom tends to stay way too long. Sometimes I have to escort her home.”
“Yeah,” I said with a small chuckle. “I’ve had second-hand experience with that.”
Penny groaned. “I can’t believe that was how I first met you, Eric. That was mortifying.”
“Well,” I said, shrugging, “not every first impression gets to be graceful.”
She laughed, then quickly changed the subject.
“Oh! I just remembered — yesterday was your first big harvest, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Apparently not everyone liked it.”
Still, people ate it. That had to count for something.
“Huh,” Sebastian said. “Funny you mention that. My mom asked me to buy strawberries for dinner last night. Good thing I got them in the afternoon.”
“Oh?” I perked up. “Did you like them?”
“Me? I didn’t try them,” he said. “But Maru, Mom, and Dad loved them.”
I deflated slightly.
“Hey,” Sam said quickly, “the strawberry shortcake Gus made was amazing! Same with the punch.”
“I heard Gus added alcohol to it,” Sebastian muttered. “Didn’t touch that. The cake was solid, though.”
Penny sighed. “Everyone loves alcohol, huh? Cake’s harmless, at least. Alcohol…”
She trailed off. “Well. You know.”
I nodded. We all did.
“Wine’s a pretty lucrative business,” Sebastian added. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Eric considered it eventually.”
I laughed. “Maybe later. For now, I was thinking jam. Shame I sold everything raw — guess that plan’s on hold.”
Sam stretched and stepped back. “Well, it was nice talking to you guys. But we’ve got practice. See you!”
Sebastian nodded and followed him toward Sam’s house.
“Oh!” Penny said suddenly. “I should take Vincent and Jas to the playground. See you, Eric!”
She ushered them north, Vincent already running ahead.
I watched them go for a moment before turning toward the mines, my thoughts still buzzing — lighter than before but not quite settled.
The mines were surprisingly quaint.
Level 62 twisted in on itself, its narrow corridors forcing me to double back more than once. Annoying, but manageable.
Level 63 opened into a wide arena — Dust Sprites flickering like embers, Frost Slimes dragging themselves across the stone, Ghosts drifting just far enough out of reach to be irritating. I handled them the way I always did. Carefully. Methodically.
Level 64 was worse.
The air felt heavier there. Not thicker — just…
wrong. Monsters clustered tighter, their movements less random, like something was driving them instead of instinct. Still, I pushed through. I was used to this.
Or at least, I thought I was.
Then I found another Dwarf Scroll.
The moment my fingers brushed against it, the ground lurched.
Not a tremor — not the usual rumble of shifting stone — but something deeper. The entire level groaned, like I had stepped on something that shouldn’t have been disturbed.
Dust fell from the ceiling in thin streams. The torches flickered.
And then—
A whisper.
Not sound. Not really. It pressed against my ears without passing through them, like something trying to
force itself into a language I couldn’t understand.
I froze.
The same presence as before. Faint. Distant.
Watching.
Warning.
I turned slowly, scanning the cavern, but the mine had gone still. Even the monsters hesitated, their movements stuttering for just a moment before resuming like nothing had happened.
“…What was that?” I muttered.
No answer. Just the low hum of the mine settling back into place.
I kept moving.
A Special Slime lunged at me from the dark — larger than the others, a faint star marking its antenna. I reacted on instinct, striking again and again until it burst apart in a wet, echoing splatter.
The sound lingered longer than it should have.
Too long.
I exhaled, forcing myself to keep going. Broke open a few crates. Frozen tears. A couple of geodes. Normal things. Familiar things.
Something to ground me.
And then—
I saw him.
At the far edge of the cavern. Just beyond the reach of the torchlight.
The Dwarf.
He stood perfectly still, like he had always been there.
A golden hat, catching what little light there was. A deep red cloak, unmoving despite the draft that curled through the tunnels.
He wasn’t hiding.
He was
watching.
My chest tightened.
“…Hey—!” I started, taking a step forward.
The whisper returned.
Louder this time.
Still incomprehensible—but sharper. Urgent. Not welcoming.
A warning.
The Dwarf didn’t move. Didn’t react. Just stood there, silent and impossibly still.
And then—
He was gone.
No footsteps. No sound. No fading silhouette.
Just… absence.
Like he had never been there at all.
The cavern felt colder without him.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space, waiting for something—anything—to happen again.
Nothing did.
The mine returned to normal.
That somehow made it worse.
“…Yeah. Nope.”
I turned and left.
Not ran. Not panicked.
But for the first time since I started coming down here…
I didn’t feel like I was leaving because I was done.
I felt like I was leaving because I wasn’t supposed to stay.
As I stepped out into the mountain air, the shift was immediate.
Light. Wind. Space.
Robin stood near the overlook, gazing out over Pelican Town. She waved when she saw me.
“It’s really beautiful here, isn’t it? You get an amazing view of Pelican Town in the mountains.”
“Yeah…” I replied, my voice slower than I intended. “I am heading over to the Saloon for Emily’s birthday. You coming?”
“Er, not today. I think I am going to cook dinner. Sebastian is probably coming by now, so I better cook something good.”
I nodded, though my attention drifted back toward the mine entrance behind me.
For a moment, I swore I could still feel it.
That presence.
Watching.
I shook it off and waved goodbye before heading south.
When I arrived, the Saloon was already alive with noise — plates clinking, quiet chatter, the lingering sweetness of strawberry shortcake still hanging in the air.
“Ah! Hey, Eric!” Gus called from behind the counter. “It’s Emily’s birthday today! Did you give her a present?”
“Yeah, I—uh…” I hesitated.
“He gave me an Amethyst,” Emily said, stepping in beside me, smiling. “Though I kind of got distracted right after…”
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Leah said warmly.
Emily glanced down at her hands for a moment, then added, softer:
“I found an injured parrot outside. I couldn’t just leave him there.”
There was a brief pause—not awkward, just… attentive.
“That sounds like you,” Leah said gently.
Emily smiled, a little more to herself than anyone else.
I shifted slightly beside her. “She patched him up pretty quickly. He’s already moving around again.”
“And you named him?” Leah asked.
Emily hesitated.
“I wasn’t going to,” she admitted. “It never felt right. Naming something wild always felt like… claiming it.”
Her eyes flicked toward me.
“But Eric said something earlier. That names don’t have to mean ownership. They can just… help you remember.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I didn’t think it was that profound.”
“It was to me,” she said quietly.
That lingered longer than I expected.
Leah smiled. “So… what’s his name?”
Emily’s expression softened.
“Pedro.”
“Pedro,” Leah repeated. “It suits him.”
For a moment, the noise of the Saloon faded into the background. It was just the two of us standing there—something unspoken but understood.
Then—
“Yarr… names or not, birds got better luck than my boat these days.”
Willy’s voice cut through the moment, rough but not unkind.
He leaned forward slightly. “Still can’t get her running. Needs power. Real power. And things we just don’t have around here.”
“Like what?” I asked.
He scratched his beard. “Iridium, mostly. Stuff you don’t just stumble across.”
I nodded slowly. “If you ever need help…”
He gave a small laugh. “Maybe someday. When the time’s right.”
The conversation loosened again after that, the Saloon slipping back into its usual rhythm.
Gus wiped his hands on a cloth and looked around.
“Hard to believe Spring’s almost over,” he said. “Feels like it flew by.”
His eyes landed on me.
“Though I’ll say this—ever since Eric showed up, things have felt… livelier. Even with the Flower Festival going sideways, we bounced back.”
A few people nodded. Someone chuckled.
From the corner, Shane shifted but didn’t say anything.
And then—
“Yeah… I heard about that.”
Clint’s voice.
Quiet. Uneven.
He stepped a little closer, though he didn’t quite look at anyone directly.
Gus grinned, a little too knowingly.
“Which brings me to something I’ve been wondering,” he said. “Clint—why didn’t you ask Emily for a dance? Eric beat you to it.”
The room reacted instantly—some laughter, some groans.
Clint froze.
It wasn’t just embarrassment. It was hesitation. Like he’d been caught
thinking something he wasn’t ready to say out loud.
“I… I was going to,” he muttered. “Just—didn’t get the chance.”
Emily’s smile faded slightly—not out of discomfort, but something closer to concern.
“You could’ve asked,” she said gently.
Clint looked at her then, just for a second.
“That’s… not really how it works,” he said.
There was a beat.
Nobody laughed this time.
I felt something tighten in my chest—not quite guilt, not quite understanding.
Gus cleared his throat, realizing he’d pushed a little too far.
“Well! Plenty of dances next year, eh?” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Clint nodded quickly, retreating back into himself.
The conversation moved on, but not completely. Something about it stuck.
Emily exhaled quietly beside me.
“…I didn’t know,” she murmured.
I glanced at her. “About Clint?”
She nodded faintly. “I thought he just… liked coming here.”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she smiled again—not as bright as before, but steadier.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”
I nodded.
We stepped out of the Saloon together, the noise fading behind us.
By the time we got back to Emily’s place, the house was anything but quiet.
Feathers littered the floor like a botched pillow fight. One clung to the lamp. Another floated lazily down from the ceiling fan, which was very much still spinning.
Haley stood in the middle of it all, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“I leave for
five minutes,” she snapped, “and suddenly this place looks like a bird sanctuary exploded.”
Pedro trilled happily from the curtain rod, wings fluttering just enough to send another feather drifting down.
Emily froze in the doorway.
“Oh no…” she muttered. “Pedro, what did you do?”
Pedro cocked his head, utterly unapologetic.
Alex, seated on the couch, was doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter.
“I mean,” he said, grinning, “you’ve gotta admit, he’s got personality.”
Haley shot him a glare.
“Do
not encourage him, Alex. I wanted one quiet evening. One.” She gestured around the room. “This is not quiet. This is chaos.”
I crouched down to check Pedro’s wing. The bandage was gone — cleanly removed, not torn.
“He’s fine,” I said. “Looks like he healed faster than expected.”
“That’s great,” Haley replied flatly. “Fantastic. Love that for him. Does that mean he’s leaving?”
Pedro fluttered down, landing squarely on the back of Haley’s chair.
She stiffened.
“No. No, no—”
Pedro shook himself.
A fresh wave of feathers followed.
Alex burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You should’ve seen your face.”
Haley rounded on him.
“You were supposed to come over for
me,” she hissed. “Not to babysit a bird!”
Emily stepped in gently, placing a hand on Haley’s shoulder.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said. “I just… couldn’t leave him hurt.”
Haley sighed, the edge dulling just slightly.
“I know,” she muttered. “I just didn’t expect my house to turn into a wildlife rehabilitation center.”
Pedro hopped closer, peering at Haley’s bracelet with intense curiosity.
“…Don’t touch that,” Haley warned.
Pedro chirped.
Alex leaned back, still smiling.
“Honestly? I kinda like him,” he said. “He’s got energy. Makes the place feel alive.”
Emily smiled at that.
“I think he does too,” she said softly.
I watched the room — the feathers, the noise, the irritation and laughter overlapping — and felt a strange warmth settle in my chest. It was messy. Loud. Imperfect.
But it was real.
Emily glanced at me.
“Looks like he’s staying the night,” she said.
I nodded, exhaustion finally catching up with me.
Pedro flapped once, settling onto the curtain rod again like a king surveying his domain.
Haley groaned.
“I am vacuuming
everything tomorrow.”
Alex laughed.
And somehow, despite the mess, despite the fatigue, despite the feathers still drifting through the air — it felt like the right way to end her birthday.
