After everything, you'd think life would slow down.
It didn’t.
Lucala doesn’t rest just because your party nearly exploded emotionally and magically.
Aelira had been quiet since the surge.
Not sad. Not panicking.
Just… quiet.
The girl who once named a chicken Sir Cluckles and threatened to marry a spellbook now sat beside rivers, staring at her hands like they were cursed.
“You good?” I asked one morning.
“I don’t know how to feel power that could destroy a forest just because I got embarrassed.”
“You also accidentally summoned a bunny made of lightning.”
“That thing bit a merchant’s shoe.”
“It also bowed before you.”
She smiled. Barely.
“What if I hurt someone?”
“Then you try again. Learn. Grow. We’ve got your back.”
She leaned her head against my shoulder.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“...thanks, Sakamoto.”
Later that day, Kael called me into the woods.
Just the two of us.
No Ravian. No Aelira. No Niris.
Just a father and the boy who carried a sword that once ended armies.
“You swing better now,” he said. “But you still don’t move like a warrior.”
“I’m four.”
“And?”
“Fair.”
He taught me how to fall without breaking bones.
How to breathe when surrounded.
How to read pressure in someone’s stance.
Then he stopped.
“We’re being watched.”
I turned — nothing.
But Kael stared at the treeline.
“Out now.”
From behind the brush, a man stepped forward.
He was tall, lean, wrapped in light blue robes with silver embroidery.
Eyes hidden beneath a wide hat.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I am Marev. A Seer from the Frostwind Circle.”
Kael tensed.
“What do the Frostwinds want here?”
“To observe. The blade awakens again. And her wielder… sings.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
Marev smiled.
“You’ll understand… when she cries.”
He vanished like mist.
That night, Ravian sat beside a candle, reading a scroll sealed with red wax and a holy flame insignia.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No.”
He handed it to me.
To Ravian of the Embersight Lineage,
The Church requests your return.
The Moon will soon bleed.
The boy must be tested.
You are to confirm… if he is the vessel.
“What vessel?”
“No clue,” Ravian said. “But I hate the tone.”
“You going back?”
“Not without you.”
“I’m not ready for politics.”
“Neither am I. That’s why we’re perfect.”
Somewhere far beyond the cliffs north of Velduin…
In the dead of night…
A child stood barefoot in the snow, gazing upward.
Above them, a bright streak cut through the sky.
It wasn’t a meteor.
It wasn’t magic.
It was a pod.
Metal. Cracked. Screaming with old energy.
And inside?
A girl.
Eyes closed. Floating. Wrapped in violet flame.
“...wake up,” she whispered in her sleep. “The sword is calling…”