The air was still heavy with the scent of burned wood and crushed earth.

After that fateful day, they had buried Raiquen and Eliryn side by side—two lives that had carried the weight of the village's future, now resting beneath the same sky they had once fought to protect.

The small hill where they lay was quiet, save for the whisper of the wind.

Khael Corzedar stood before the graves, his eyes half-closed, head slightly bowed.

Beside him stood Ceyla Nox, her storm-born affinity flickering faintly in her gaze, and Juno Arkai the Affinity-less Taishin Gate, silent as stone.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Finally, Khael broke the silence.

"We're going now… We just came to say goodbye."

Ceyla's expression was unreadable, but her hands clenched faintly at her sides. Juno simply nodded, his gaze lingering on the gravestones as if trying to burn them into memory.

In the village below, the scene had changed.

The rebels, once enemies, were now working side by side with the villagers—repairing homes, clearing rubble, and tending to the wounded.

At the center of it all was Elder Lao. His back was no longer rigid with pride. His voice, once sharp with authority, now carried a humble weight. He moved among the people not as their untouchable leader, but as one of them seeking to rebuild more than just the village.

The old traditions the ones that had cost so many lives were already being rewritten.

And it was all thanks to two who had fallen that day.

Two whose sacrifice had torn open the path to change.

The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers.

Somewhere beyond the clouds, perhaps, Raiquen still stood at Eliryn's side—keeping his promise.

…

After several minutes, Khael's steps carried him back toward Elder Lao's house.

The time for departure had come. There were no more words to speak at the graves, only the weight of silence left behind.

The small courtyard was shadowed by the slanting afternoon light.

Inside, four elders sat gathered.

Elder Lao—shoulders slightly bowed now, but his eyes still steady and searching.

Elder Twe—hunched but sharp-eyed, like a hawk that had grown old but never blind.

Elder Loe—her face hidden behind a thin veil, the faint hum of her presence moving through the room like wind through reeds.

Elder Mia—draped in silver-blue, the youngest of the council, her fingers never straying from the prayer seals she held, the quiet rhythm of her breathing keeping time with her murmured invocations.

They all turned as the sound of approaching footsteps filled the entryway.

Khael stepped inside, Ceyla Nox at his right, her storm-born gaze steady, and Juno Arkai at his left, unreadable as always.

The air was already full crowded not just with elders, but with the remnants of the rebellion.

Lin, the mute girl, stood near the doorway, her eyes flicking from face to face as if absorbing every detail.

Beside her, crouched like a watchful predator, was Kirell Shadepetal sharp-eyed, sharper-tongued, the jagged scar on her forehead pulsing faintly with Shinrei energy.

Not far away, Braggen Mossvale leaned against the wall, his bark-covered skin creaking softly as he cracked his knuckles.

Sil Vorrun, the lean boy with unruly curls the Whisperbloom sat quietly, almost blending into the shadows, his presence like a secret waiting to be told.

And finally, Therys Nolemire, called The Bloom That Hungered. His pale skin caught the dim light, his smile thin and ghost-like, the air around him colder for reasons no one wished to name.

One by one, their gazes settled on Khael, Ceyla, and Juno.

The room held no hostility now only a heavy, watchful silence.

It was the kind of silence that came after storms, when the land was still deciding if peace could truly take root.

"I guess it's time to say goodbye," Elder Lao said, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of finality.

"Yeah…" Khael answered. "And… where is Noah?"

"Here," came a voice from the side.

Noah Matsuda emerged, dressed in ornate robes stitched with delicate vine patterns in pastel threads. The Bloom Clan emissary. And a certified coward.

"Time to go, right? Hahaa… I'm still afraid—what if outside we're going to die? No no, I don't like that thought at all."

Khael gave him a faint smirk. "You're still the same as ever."

A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Even Lin smiled before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Khael and Ceyla. It was a wordless goodbye, but one neither of them would forget.

Juno's eyes, however, drifted to Braggen.

The giant noticed, grinned faintly, and strode over.

"Juno," Braggen said, shaking his hand with a firm grip.

"I want to fight you before we go," Juno replied without hesitation.

"Hoh… is that fine with your friends?" Braggen's grin widened.

"It's fine," Khael answered for him. "A Taishin practitioner always asks for pointers… right?"

"Can't argue with that," Braggen said, baring his teeth in a sharp grin.

Ceyla's gaze flicked to Kirell.

"We also have a score to settle," she said coolly.

Kirell smirked. "I'm stronger than you."

"Heh… we'll see," Ceyla replied, her voice edged with the promise of a storm yet to come.

The air shifted again not with tension, but with something sharper, like the quiet thrill of warriors who knew their paths would cross again.

..

..

.

Meanwhile The wind along the forest's edge carried the scent of wet leaves and distant rain. Beneath a sky painted in streaks of gold and fading violet, a lone figure walked the winding path with an unhurried step.

Golden hair caught the last light of the sun, gleaming as if spun from sunlight itself. His blue eyes deep, calm, and utterly unshaken moved over the world with quiet certainty. Every shift in the trees, every whisper in the wind, seemed to register within them.

Master Isen.

The Keiryuu.

The Honored One.

"Time to go to Vernara Village," he murmured, his voice a calm tide against the rustle of the leaves. "And fetch my cute team… and my disciple, Khael."

The corners of his lips curled into a small, knowing smile an expression both affectionate and faintly mischievous. The way his gaze lingered on the road ahead held a weight that no casual traveler would bear. This was not simply a journey.

To be continue