Morning light, the hue of liquid honey, spilled softly through the high, arched windows of Ryuki General Hospital, casting glimmering stripes upon the gleaming floors. The air, normally sterile, was faintly scented with the delicate, earthy smell of fresh herbs and a whiff of metallic-sweet ozone — a promise of hidden magic. Under the beds, water dripped with a calming, hypnotic whisper through a transparent glass conduit, its soft flow part of a special healing process known only to the city's most privileged mages.
Veon's eyelids fluttered open, slow and leaden, as though emerging from a deep, rejuvenating slumber.
The room glowed dimly, filled with a warm, golden light that appeared to come from the air itself. He was supported by a magic water bed, its surface warm and flowing, shaping itself perfectly to his contours, relieving every tension. A gentle, glowing band encircled his head, throbbing with a small, rhythmic glow, its magic invading his skull, dispersing the final remnants of pain.
His vision gradually cleared, focusing from a dreamy haze into sharp reality. The first thing he saw—
His father, Ryden. Standing tall and powerful, even in the stillness of the hospital room, his battle cloak still folded back from his shoulders like the wings of a sleeping dragon. He filled the room with an aura of quiet strength.
Kaen, his brother, stood at his side, a huge, unbridled smile stretching from ear to ear, his eyes alight with unashamed adoration.
And at their sides — a cluster of the city's greatest mages, their forms exuding understated strength, attired in magical regalia that softly glowed or shimmered with complex runes.
Veon gave a weak, victorious smile.
"Father. I did it, you see?"
His tone was a rasp, but sweetness from victory gave it away.
Ryden stepped forward, his normally stern eyes brimming with an emotion seldom exhibited — a blend of pride and immense relief. He laid a hard, calloused palm on his son's shoulder — a display of utmost paternal love.
"Yes, you did. You met the test, Veon. I'm proud of you. You've shown everyone — and yourself — that you're an elite mage of Ryuki City. I'm blessed… to have a son like you."
Kaen all but bounced beside them, unable to suppress his boyish enthusiasm.
"Big bro, you're great! When I'm 16, I wanna be as good as you!"
Veon smiled, a gentle, dry laugh.
"Heh. No doubt, Kaen. One day you'll be stronger than me."
A gentle, singing voice joined in from the edge of the bed.
Sia — one of the city's elite mages — stood there with poise and refined beauty. Her brown, curly locks glistened with a fine sprinkling of magic particles, reflecting the golden light. Her eyes were a brilliant, crystalline brown, like enchanted gemstones reflecting inner depths. A delicate silver staff lay in her hand, its tip pulsing softly, and sitting atop her shoulder—
"Meow. Meow."
A small white kitten with shimmering, pale wings slowly blinked at Veon, its tiny wings fluttering faintly.
Sia gave a sophisticated, intelligent smile.
"Well, little Veon. I didn't realize you could call up Zephyros. That's... impressive. For your first actual battle victory — I'm glad for you."
Veon grinned, a real warmth filling him.
"Thanks. I didn't even know I was capable."
Behind Sia stood Marco, another senior elite mage — older, with keen eyes and a straightforward, unyielding manner.
Marco's voice cut into the warm mood with a sudden coldness.
"Veon. Did you question him — who he was? Why did he attack?"
The mood in the room shifted. The golden light dimmed a little. Veon was stared at by everyone, their quiet, expectant glances filled with unspoken questions.
Veon breathed in deeply, the ache in his head forgotten in light of the memory.
"His name was... Obara Rakuji. He came from his master — though I didn't get the chance to ask who that was. But there was something else."
He stared down, his brows creased with focus, attempting to snare the slippery fragments of a transitory moment.
"He told me... three months. Someone would wake up. Someone significant. He told me... Ash Phantom."
Abruptly—
Ryden's eyes narrowed to slits — a cutting, reflexive response. His usually impassive face grew taut with sudden, deep unease.
Kaen's gasp caught in his throat, his earlier exhilaration entirely dissipated, replaced by a growing fear.
Veon went on, his speech slow and measured, as if he were navigating through a maze with slow-moving feet.
"And when I heard that name... something occurred to me. A memory burst in my head, like a flash of recognition. But... I don't remember it now. It's like I know him, but I don't know how..."
Kaen spoke softly, his voice low, tinged with a child's fear.
"That same name... I heard it yesterday, too. In my room."
Ryden gazed downward, his eyes distant, wrestling with something deep within.
"I heard it too. And when I did, I felt something... regret. Fear. Sorrow. Like an old, forgotten wound had been picked open."
Sia folded her arms, her crystalline eyes contemplative as she searched Ryden and Veon's faces.
"That name... it has to be related to the Ryuki family. Maybe... someone from history? Someone whose tale was lost from our records?"
Ryden nodded slowly, grim certainty rising over him.
"I think you're right. This sounds like an echo of a past we were meant to forget."
Just then, a nurse entered, her movements efficient, carrying a radiant scroll.
"Veon Ryuki — all reports are clean. Your magic channels are healthy. Your recovery is complete. You're free to go home."
Veon let out a sigh of relief, the tension slipping from his shoulders.
"Thanks."
Ryden's face relaxed into a beaming smile.
"You can't imagine, Veon... but the people are waiting outside for you. I don't think walking home will be easy."
Veon rose slowly, the magic bed receding beneath him, and drew aside the airy curtain hanging over the tall balcony window—
And saw, from the high angle:
A throng.
A huge, colorful ocean of faces poured out of the hospital — a rainbow of hues and features. Cheers swelled — a rolling tide of sound that crashed upward, banners waving, petals drifting in the morning light, screams of abandon filling the air.
"You're our hero!"
"That's Veon Ryuki!"
"So adorable!"
"So sexy!"
"Thanks for avenging my son," cried an old woman, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears, now aglow with a joyful, trembling smile.
Ryden:
"Kid, you killed an S-Class Thread. You deserve that praise."
Ryden swept his hand, and an amazing flying cart — charmed with complex golden runes that glowed with a gentle light — floated down from the air. Its shining surface reflected the sun. The three of them — Veon, Ryden, and Kaen — mounted it, the cheers of the crowd swelling around them.
They rose smoothly into the sky, soaring above the adoring crowd.
Across the street, in the deep shade of a brightly colored candy shop window, nearly engulfed by the noisy vibrancy of the street:
Okabaru Vincent, in plain, flowing white robes, lounged on a low bench, a stick of rock candy dangling idly from his lips, his golden eyes watching the scene with an unreadable sheen.
Next to him — Toji, unusually calm, his head resting on a pile of rainbow-colored candy racks, his usual intensity softened by rare stillness.
Okabaru tracked the flying cart with firm eyes.
"Huh. If praise brings happiness, love brings heart." He cracked his candy stick slowly.
"But unfortunately, the people of this city... don't realize love. They praise the powerful ones. But forget the weak ones."
Toji, staring blankly at the street, muttered,
"Yeah. Because they don't have a heart."
Okabaru smiled with a glimmer of naughty humor and ruffled Toji's hair like a favored puppy.
"Ah. Wonderful response, Toji."
Toji scowled, a spark of his usual annoyance returning. His candy, neglected, fell from his fingers and clunked softly to the ground.
"Sensei, why must you be so dramatic again?"
Somewhere on the outskirts of the city, where the wind whispered lullabies of long-forgotten days, Auren sat alone. His legs dangled from the worn cliffside, a wobbly ledge over the vast world, as the relentless wind threaded its fingers through his black hair, pulling the strands like an invisible sculptor.
He looked out over the broad panorama of Ryuki City, a jewel box gradually coming to light as twilight fell. The city landscape glowed with a gentle, otherworldly light — each of them a faraway heartbeat. Above, the cloud rails sparkled, pearlescent ribbons against the darkening indigo. Along these shining tracks, Sky Trains moved with a silent, regal composure, their silhouettes etching brief arcs through the luminous arches that crossed the sky. Below, Crimson Town glowed, its crystal roadways reflecting the fading remains of daylight, scattering them into a thousand shattered rainbows. In the far horizon, the park's floating islands bobbed along with an almost dreamy tranquility, like enormous, glowing leaves drifting on a peaceful, invisible stream.
"I want to leave. I have to go to Hollow Mountain… and as soon as possible."
His voice was but a whisper — a thin breath of sound carried away by the enormity of the wind, devoured by the increasing silence of the evening.
"I don't belong here. This city — it's lovely, yes. But it's a cage of golden bars. A place where I'm… unwanted."
He clung to the jagged edge of the cliff face, his knuckles white as snow against the shadows deepening across the stone — a tangible expression of the pain in his heart. And yet, a gentle, wistful smile played upon his lips, a brief shadow of warmth.
"But I'm glad for you, Veon. You're enjoying your moment. Everyone adores you. You're the epitome of all that a Ryuki heir should be."
Auren took a great, shuddering breath. The cold air filled his chest, a stark contrast to the smoldering ashes of his repressed desires.
"I believe I should go. Only a few days more… I require a proper road map. A few provisions. Then I'm off."
He leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to wander upwards, drinking in the canvas of the dark sky now speckled with the first tentative stars.
"It's so lovely tonight…"
The words were a soft, awed silence. A whispering breeze, carrying the faint scent of distant blossoms and damp earth, rustled past, making the tall grasses around him sway in gentle obeisance. He looked out upon the marvels below, every view a poignantly bitter memory: the airborne parks where he'd rediscovered peace in stolen naps, sleeping under the cover of simulated stars; the Tower of Light where celebrations burst into blinding showers of light and sound, filling the nighttime sky with fleeting radiance; the cloudways along which one might walk and believe one could grasp the very stars — a god among men.
He whispered names, each a soft, lingering farewell, a wish to the wind:
"The carrot shop uncle… Kaen… Dad… and most of all, Mom. She's the only one who ever loved me here."
His eyes blazed with unshed grief — a deep, quiet well of feeling that would not overflow.
Just then — a voice, crystalline and musical, like the tinkle of crystal bells on a gusty night:
"Hey! Who's there?"
Auren blinked, shocked, and whirled around too fast. He staggered perilously, his equilibrium wavering. The endless chasm below suddenly appeared to tilt up.
He almost fell.
A surprisingly fast and strong hand grasped his wrist just in time.
"Hey, hey, hey! Careful!" the girl shrieked, her voice full of real alarm as she yanked him back from the edge with an unexpected amount of strength. "Are you attempting to fall to your death?!"
Auren wheezed, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, adrenaline rushing through his veins.
"T-Thanks… I almost—"
He finally glanced at her properly.
She was… breathtaking.
Her age — a year or two younger than his. Her soft yellow dress, the color of the first light of dawn, blew softly in the wind around her knees. Her shining blue eyes sparkled with inner radiance, like moonlit lakewater reflecting the sky — full of warmth and unexpected depth. Hidden among her hair, just above her ear, was a tiny pink flower that glowed softly in the growing moonlight, as if made of stardust itself.
She cocked her head, the look on her face a teasing mixture of worry and humor.
"So… who are you?"
Auren parted his lips, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears rushing around him. Then he faltered, an odd emptiness briefly obscuring his mind.
"I… I'm…"
He blinked — a flash of real panic.
"Wait. Who… am I?"
The panic had only a momentary grasp — a shadow in his head. Then, a surge of recognition, almost laughable in its abruptness.
"Oh, right! I'm Auren!" he shouted with the joy of discovery, a goofy smile spreading across his face.
She blinked slowly, her eyes sparkling blue.
"You completely just fabricated that just now, didn't you?" she said matter-of-factly, her voice edged with laughter.
"No, no! I promise! I am Auren!" he protested, a flush spreading across his face.
"Uh-huh," she smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Sure. Just like I'm Rose because—"
She touched the pink flower in her hair.
"—you know, Rosee?"
Auren raised an eyebrow, a mischievous challenge flashing in his eyes.
"Wait a second. You did invent yours!"
"Excuse me?" she replied, pretending to be offended, her voice full of playful outrage. Then, unable to help herself, she let out a clear, ringing laugh that carried softly through the evening air.
"You're so funny, Auren."
Auren rubbed the back of his neck, a genuine smile replacing his earlier tension.
"Am I? I guess… yeah. Heh."
They stood there for an instant — a girl and a boy on a cliff, overlooking a dreaming fairy city bathed in the soft light of twilight. The moon, a shining pearl, climbed higher in the sky, casting a silver gleam across the country. The clouds above shimmered with quiet power, echoing the faraway city lights.
And deep inside Auren's heart, the aching, all-pervasive sorrow he'd borne all day — a weight of loneliness and yearning — eased.
Slightly.
As if an insistent shadow had at last felt the touch of light.