The day that Nyx leaves for Virtupets is bright and sunny, with only the slightest of breezes rustling the branches of the trees on the horizon, but Nyx can hardly register the glory of the day. She gazes out the window, looking up toward the sky, and tries to think of the stars twinkling far beyond the clouds—but the darkness of space can’t compare to the darkness that’s fallen over her mind this morning, thinking about Ozzy holed up in his room.

She tries to coax him out, even knowing he probably won’t come. He had been so upset when she’d finally broken the news to him, and even though it had hurt Nyx, too, she couldn’t blame him for reacting the way he did. She isn’t sure she wouldn’t have done the same in his shoes.

“Are you all right, Nyx?” Mr. Hornelius asks, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. He had just finished stocking the pantry with groceries, including a few extra boxes of Ozzy’s favourite cereal. Nyx looks up at him with what she hopes is a reassuring smile, even if she doesn’t really feel it.

“I’m worried about Ozzy,” she admits, even though it’s not much of an admission. “And to be honest, I’m not really sure I should be going to Virtupets at all.”

Mr. Hornelius gives her a sympathetic nod and removes his hand. “It’s scary to go off on a new adventure, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“But is it so scary that you don’t want to go at all?”

“No!” Nyx yelps, sitting up with a jolt—but then she slumps back down in her seat at the kitchen table. “I mean, I want to go… I want to see the world, you know? But I don’t want to leave Ozzy, either.”

“I understand.” Mr. Hornelius’s voice is kind. He takes a seat at the kitchen table next to her. “But you won’t be gone forever, will you? It’s just a few months—you’ll be back before either of you knows it, and you can write in the meantime.”

“I know, but…”

“And I’ll be here, too.” When Mr. Hornelius smiles, it’s gentle and warm, crinkling the corners of his lips and stretching out the crow’s feet at his eyes. “I’ll take care of Ozzy while we wait for you to come back.”

Nyx smiles. Finally, it feels real. She sits up, reaching for him. “You promise?”

Mr. Hornelius takes her hand.

“I promise.”

“There are things you didn’t see.”

Ozzy still hasn’t come out of his room by the time Nyx has to leave. She stands at their front door with Mr. Hornelius, worrying at her lip; as she glances over at their landlord, he looks up into the window of Ozzy’s room. Nyx follows his gaze, but doesn’t see Ozzy: just a quick little movement the same colour as his sheets. 

“He’s… he’s not coming out, is he?”

Mr. Hornelius gives her a sad, resigned look, as if his heart is breaking, too. He doesn’t say anything. He probably doesn’t even know what to say. Nyx doesn’t know, either.

She takes a deep breath, then shakes herself out and tries to smile. “Take good care of him for me while I’m gone, okay? And I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

“You have my word,” Mr. Hornelius says, placing a wrinkled hand over his heart. 

And with that, Nyx is off. She takes the first step onto the path leading away from home—the path that will lead her toward adventure, and to the dream she had always kept locked safely away in her heart.

But it’s hard. The first step is the hardest. The second step might be easier, and every one after that even more so, even though it slowly becomes more and more difficult to see the horizon through her tears. 

Nyx stifles a sob, lifting an arm to her face and scrunching her eyes shut to try and staunch the flow of tears—but it’s no use. She comes to a stop when she’s far enough away from the house to keep her from wanting to run back, and then turns and takes one last look back at the home in which she raised her little brother.

“Goodbye, Ozzy!” Nyx calls, lifting both hands above her head and waving them frantically back and forth. A wide smile spreads across her face, hope blooming in her chest even as she says the most difficult words she’s ever had to say. “I’ll be back soon, I promise!”

“Or that you didn’t want to see.”

Months go by, and a gloomy sky hovers overhead as Torgos Hornelius III walks up to Ozzy’s door. It’s not the first time he’s been over this week—he had come by twice already to check on the young man and gotten no response—but he can’t help but worry. 

To that end, he’s brought a few containers of Bangers and Mash and Baked Juppie, and even a slice of Islandberry Drum Cake, which he had decorated with pieces of the Islandberry Crunch Cereal that Ozzy loves so much. The poor lad doesn’t seem to leave the house very often, and probably isn’t eating well because of it.

Torgos approaches the door and knocks on it gently. “Ozzy?” he calls, as softly as he can while still making sure he’s heard. “Are you there? I’m just checking in…”

The old Tonu presses his ear to the door. His hearing isn’t quite what it used to be, but it’s far from lacklustre—and just like all those visits before, there’s no response, at least at first. Then…

A shuffle behind the door, and then a whimper. A familiar voice mutters, “She usually sends more by now…”

Torgos frowns. Is Ozzy talking about his overdue rent? He thought he had made it clear to the boy that there was no need to worry about it—he wasn’t about to kick poor Ozzy or his sister out of their home…

A frown spreads over his face. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard from Nyx in quite some time. Her letters had stopped coming a few months ago, but he hadn’t thought much of it until now—Virtupets is a busy place, and her work schedule must have been hectic.

He knocks on the door again, rebalancing the containers of food he’s got in his arms. “Are you hungry, Ozzy? I’ve brought you some food…”

No response. Not for a minute, or five minutes, or even ten. Eventually, Torgos decides to leave the containers he’d brought at the doorstep, just as he has for every other visit in the last few weeks. 

“I’ll just leave it here for you, when you’re ready,” he says, and departs.

“You were so focused on the factors out of your control…”