She finally reached the top of the mountain. The wind whispered through the cliffs, brushing past her like a silent guardian. There, half-hidden by mist and rock, she saw it—an entrance to a cave. Its opening pulsed faintly with an ancient energy.
Inside, something awaited—a test, a lock, an identity. A password.
It wasn't an ordinary word or phrase. Kri had once told Ria, "The password is not just said, it's remembered. It's something only the power holder and the power itself know." It wasn't spoken—it was written, inscribed in lines that shimmered like starlight on the walls. A kind of authentication between soul and source.
Ria stepped into the cave.
She felt the air thicken with memory and magic. Deeper in, she found pages—old, weathered, but humming with energy. Fragments from Kri's own book, scattered like breadcrumbs. Nearby, a pool of silvery liquid shimmered in the cave light. She dipped her fingers in. The energy surged through her—an ancient upgrade, a leveling of the power that lived inside her.
By evening, she had followed a sloping path that led her down the other side of the mountain. She reached the valley floor before nightfall.
That night, drawn by distant music and flickering lights, Ria walked toward a village tucked near the edge of a forest. It was alive with celebration—locals gathering for a festival of lights. Lanterns floated in the sky like drifting dreams, drums echoed in the air, and laughter rang through the streets.
Tired but enchanted, Ria joined in.
Children ran past her with sparklers, dressed in bright silks. Everyone wore their best, and the air smelled of roasted corn, grilled meats, and sweet rice cakes. Hungry, she wandered to a row of food stalls.
There, to her surprise, was a noodle shop—a humble one run by an old woman and a red-haired helper. Grandma and Red.
She froze. Seeing them—right here, far from where she last remembered—brought tears to her eyes. A mix of longing, relief, and something unspoken. Grandma smiled and gestured her in without a word, as if they had expected her.
Ria sat, and they served her a bowl of hot ramen. The aroma alone felt like home.
She ate slowly, savoring every bite. Around her, the world glowed with joy. Fireworks cracked in the distance.
When she finished, Ria walked toward the beach, where villagers stood watching the night sky light up in brilliant color. The ocean reflected the bursts like a mirror of stars. She stood at the edge, barefoot in the sand, face tilted up, heart full.
In that moment, everything felt aligned—the power, the memory, the journey, and the quiet joy of simply being alive.