Five years had passed since that day. Since the market attack, since Silas's death, since the blueprints of the secret weapon came to light. In that time, the village had changed… and so had Yuli.
Now she was a skilled fighter, respected by her peers and admired by the younger apprentices. Her body had grown stronger, her gaze more confident, though in her heart the memory of what she had lost still burned. Even so, the village was not a place for prolonged sorrow. It was a place rebuilt every day with discipline, tenderness, and fire.
Yuli walked through the training field, watching a new group of girls take their first steps. Every strike, every stumble, reminded her of her own beginnings. At her side walked Lua, sharing with her a silence that needed no words.
"Remember when you could barely hold a wooden sword?" Lua teased.
"I remember you knocked me flat the first time we trained together," Yuli replied with a smile.
"And look at you now," Lua added. "You're the one doing the knocking."
Despite the relative peace, whispers still lingered. No one spoke openly anymore of the enemy organization, but the Guardians knew they hadn't vanished. It was only a matter of time before they moved again.
Kaela had nearly returned to the person she once was. Her visits to the village cemetery were frequent, always accompanied by Yuli, who understood better than anyone the silence in which her mentor grieved. On one of those visits, Yuli left flowers at Silas's grave, brushing the stone gently with her fingertips as if her touch could speak.
"Sira's growing fast," Kaela said softly, seated beside the grave.
"She looks like him," Yuli murmured.
"And she has his smile… that smile that made everything hurt a little less."
Yuli still remembered when Kaela stopped training, gained weight, and then one day emerged from the village clinic with a baby in her arms. She remembered how she and her friends would press their hands to Kaela's belly, laughing and hugging her, full of wonder.
Sira, now four, was a radiant presence in the village. Curious, clever, and a little mischievous, she clung to Yuli like a little sister. Many Guardians cared for her, as a village would care for a beloved child. Sometimes, as Sira slept curled against her lap, Yuli wondered if she would ever have a family of her own.
That night, in the common room, the girls shared a peaceful dinner. Sol adjusted a pair of training gloves embedded with tech, while Nira tried to make her laugh with a wild rumor about an ancient Guardian who could supposedly speak with trees. Isha and Luma debated a new defense routine they were eager to practice.
Amid the calm, Yuli turned to the window. Outside, the stars hung frozen above the village. The night was beautiful… but heavy, as if it carried the weight of something approaching.
And as everyone slept, Yuli dreamed of the sister she had lost. She dreamed of the biting cold that winter, of a storm blanketing the world in white. In her dream, she saw a small figure fading into the snow, and heard her own voice calling out: "Sister, sister…"
And when she awoke, her heart pounding, she knew with an unshakable certainty.
"You're not dead. I can feel it."
And in that whisper, Yuli repeated her vow:
She would not rest until she found her.