Windmere's team boarded the Skyferry in a haze of sweat and sore limbs, boots thudding against the metal floor as they sank into their seats. Most of them were too tired to speak, still catching their breath—but there was a quiet joy on their faces.
Ardyn sat near the front, head resting lightly against the window. Beyond the thick glass, he could see Orriven's team seated in the opposite bay. They sat still, silent, their expressions caught between disbelief and drained fatigue. They didn't look angry—just stunned.
Except Mirae.
She sat with her arms folded, back against the wall, gaze fixed not on the others but on the shifting clouds beyond the glass. Ardyn studied her for a moment, hoping for a sign, a reason, something. But she didn't glance his way.
He still didn't know why she'd let him win.
"What happened during the strong gust of winds, Ardyn?" Captain Seris asked, voice cutting through the hush.
The question turned every Windmere head toward him. Kael, still catching his breath, leaned forward. Pimri tilted her head. Ava, Sedge, even Roe—all eyes locked on him now.
Ardyn straightened. "I was…" he started, stammering slightly. "I… no, we—Kael, Sedge, and I—we were flying above the tree line when the Orriven trio spotted us. Then the wind just... hit."
"Yeah, we saw that," Roe added. "It was still captured by the drones. We were watching from the starting line screen."
Ardyn nodded. "I was actually swept down when it hit," he continued. "Kael and Sedge managed to stay up, but the Orriven three weren't ready. They got pulled apart."
"That's the moment we lost the broadcast feed," Seris said. "Drone signals cut out right after that."
Ardyn ran a hand through his hair. "I was lucky. I nearly slammed into a tree trunk, but my boots caught just in time. And… I realized the winds weren't as bad near the ground. If you flew low enough, you could cut through it."
He paused, hesitating.
He remembered it clearly now—how he had started reading the wind, like it had shape and rhythm. Something instinctual. But that... that was a different conversation. One he wasn't ready to have.
Then, another flash: Toren spinning, thrown by the wind—but not before he managed to toss the Hovergem. Ardyn remembered watching it arc clean through the air.
He looked up, choosing his words carefully.
"I saw Toren," Ardyn said quietly. "He was tumbling. Looked like he lost balance midflight, and the Hovergem flew off with him."
"I caught it. Managed to stay low until the winds died down. I think the new set of drones picked up the rest."
A beat passed.
"How about Mirae?" Ava asked.
Ardyn froze—just for a second. His breath caught, shoulders stiffening. Then he looked up too quickly, eyes flicking toward Ava before darting away.
"Hey," Ava said gently, raising both palms. "Not teasing. It's an honest question."
Ardyn nodded, forcing a half-smile. "I… I think she might've been swept by the gust too. I didn't see her after that."
Captain Seris leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. "The facilitators said it's not a common occurrence. That part of the isle does get strong currents—but nothing like what happened today."
"They probably explained it to the Sky Arena already," Roe said. "Some kind of anomaly."
Ardyn let out a soft breath. "Then maybe we just got lucky."
He smiled—but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No," Captain Seris said firmly. "I don't call that luck."
He tapped a knuckle gently against his temple—not a dramatic gesture, just a quiet note.
"You play with wit. You read the field. That's an edge some players never learn, Ardyn."
Then he looked to the rest of the team—Kael, Ava, Pimri, Sedge, Doma, Roe—all seated in the ferry's dim cabin, sweat-soaked.
"And all of you," the Captain said, "played well. Not just skill, but heart. Congratulations, Windmere team."
A cheer broke out.
Hands clapped, boots tapped the deck. Ava whooped. Pimri raised both arms overhead. Sedge and Doma exchanged tired grins. Even Kael gave Ardyn a small nod—brief, but real.
For the first time in years, Windmere was going to the next round.
* * *
It had been four days since the preliminaries ended.
Four days since Mirae Rinaka tossed him the Hovergem, turned her back, and vanished into a patch of thick underbrush with a half-smirk and a half-promise.
And in all that time—not a word. No message. No explanation. Nothing.
Ardyn sat alone in the quiet lobby of the Corith inn, elbows resting on his knees, his mind a little too loud for the quiet around him.
He wasn't the type to ask first, or linger near someone's door. But here he was, seated on the cushioned bench near the information desk, tracing the edge of the seat's wooden armrest with his thumb, over and over, like the repetition might steady his thoughts.
He stood up before he could change his mind.
"Excuse me," he said, stepping toward the counter.
The woman behind the desk glanced up from her ledger, offering a polite smile.
"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?"
His voice faltered, just slightly. "Sorry… I just wanted to ask—are the Orriven team still staying here?"
The receptionist's smile didn't falter, but her tone turned gently firm.
"I'm sorry, but we don't give out information about our guests."
He expected that. Still, it pressed against something in his chest.
Ardyn nodded, offering a small smile in return. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Then he stepped back, leaving the counter and heading toward the inn's exit when a voice called out behind him.
"Ardyn Cale?"
He turned.
A young man, maybe around his age, was walking over with an eager look. Wind-tossed hair, a canvas satchel slung over one shoulder, and the wide-eyed energy of someone who still couldn't believe he was doing this.
"You're Ardyn Cale from Windmere, right?" the young man asked.
Ardyn nodded, offering a small smile.
"I'm a big Skytest fan," the guy said. "Mind signing my badge card?"
He pulled out a slim rectangular board—weathered at the edges, with the Windmere crest printed in silver across the top. A black marker was already uncapped in his hand.
Ardyn took the card, scribbled his signature near the edge, and handed it back.
"Thanks," the young man said brightly. "Oh—by the way, I overheard you asking about the Orriven team at the desk."
Ardyn blinked, a little surprised. "Yeah?"
"I saw them check out. Two days ago, I think? Early morning. They left in uniform, so it was hard to miss. I asked them all to sign my Orriven card."
"Oh," Ardyn said, the word catching a bit in his chest. He nodded. "Thanks for letting me know."
The young man beamed, clutching the card like it might float away.
"Thanks again for the signature," he said. "And good luck in the next rounds."
With that, he turned and walked off, disappearing down one of the side halls with the same bounce he came in with.
Ardyn turned back toward the exit and stepped out into the open air.
He had the answer he was looking for. And he tried—really tried—to let that settle him. If she didn't want to explain, fine, he told himself. It's her choice.
But deep down, he knew that wasn't what stung the most.
Did she really leave without saying goodbye?
He dismissed the thought with a slow breath.
Why would she even need to? he told himself.
He kept walking, letting his feet lead him through the quiet streets outside the inn. The cobblestones were still damp from the early morning mist, and the breeze carried the faint scent of sun-warmed stone.
Then he stopped.
There it was—the canal. Narrow and winding, sunlight glinting off its surface in slow ripples.
The place where he'd first met her.
Ardyn crouched by the edge, a small, unguarded smile tugging at his lips as the memory flickered.
"Thanks for the shower, Splash Boy."
He could almost hear her voice again, sharp and amused.
But the smile faded too quickly. He sat there, silent, the water below catching pieces of the sky.
He had to admit it now—whether she meant to or not, Mirae had left something behind. A thread. A weight. A pull that hadn't let go.
And it was starting to matter more than he expected.