Panting, Miria sat up abruptly in bed. Sweat clung to her forehead, proof of the restless dream that had shaken her. She tried to calm herself, but a loud thump made her jump. She froze, listening. Another metallic clank, followed by a soft creak.
— "What the...?" she muttered.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the first "weapon" within reach: a big illustrated dictionary—collector's edition. She held it like a sacred sword and crept quietly toward the kitchen.
There, crouched shirtless in front of a disassembled toaster, deeply focused, was… Asher.
— "Damn it... it's just him."
Too late. She'd already raised the book to strike.
Asher looked up just in time.
— "Uh... Miria? You planning to crush my skull with a dictionary?"
She dropped her stance, relieved and embarrassed.
— "Ah… it's you. I thought it was a burglar. Or a monster. Or... a burglar-monster."
— "And your plan was to hit me until I learned a new word?" he teased. "In that case, maybe start with yourself. You're still the apprentice here, remember?"
Miria puffed her cheeks in frustration.
— "You're making fun of me!"
Before she could say more, Asher asked:
— "What was the dream about?"
Miria lowered her eyes, suddenly serious.
— "It was… weird. There was a man. He told me to run. It felt so real."
Asher frowned.
— "The more this goes on, the more I think there's something really off about your memories."
— "You think we should train again? See what happens?" she asked softly.
— "Bad idea. No training today. We need rest. But…"
He grinned.
— "Let's go for a swim."
— "Sw… swim?!?!" Miria choked.
— "Yep."
— "But… I… I…" She clamped her hand over her mouth. "I can't swim..."
— "You can't what?" Asher blinked.
— "I've always been afraid of water."
Asher stared at her, troubled. She couldn't swim either... How's that possible? They're so alike. It's almost like...
— "Asher...? ASHER?! AAAASHEEER!!"
He flinched.
— "Wha—? Yeah?! I'm here!"
— "Were you even listening?!"
— "Sorry. Anyway. I'll teach you how to swim."
— "Really? Awesome!" she beamed.