The road stretched endlessly before him.
For the first time since he could remember, Sight Albar walked with no destination certain, no village waiting for him at the end of the day. His boots pressed into the dirt path, leaving faint prints that the wind would soon erase. The scarf around his neck fluttered in the spring breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and rain.
Behind him, far behind, lay the village of the Boar Tigers. Behind him were Lily's tears, her mother's quiet smile, the weight of a family he hadn't expected to find. He didn't look back. If he did, he wasn't sure he could keep walking.
The pack slung over his shoulder rattled faintly with its meager contents. Inside was the bag Lily's mother had given him bread, fruit, and dried meat wrapped carefully in cloth. Food for a week, she had said.
It lasted him a single day.
By the second morning, Sight was sitting by a stream, staring mournfully at the empty cloth, his cheeks puffed as he chewed the very last crust of bread.
Sight: Guess… I overdid it.
His stomach growled loudly in response. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking down at his reflection in the water. His sky-blue eyes stared back at him, tired but still sharp.
Hunting had never been a problem for him, but this was different. Beyond the forest he had always known stretched new lands, filled with creatures stranger and wilder than any he'd seen before.
That first evening, as the sun dipped low, he spotted a beast grazing by a cluster of rocks. At first glance it looked like a deer's slim body, long legs but its hide shimmered faintly, as though mist clung to it. Its horns branched like crystals, reflecting the fading light.
Sight: What… are you?
It lifted its head, eyes glowing faintly silver, before bolting. Sight sprang after it without hesitation, moving like a blur through the tall grass. Within moments, he was on it. His hand shot out, seizing its hind leg, and with one firm pull the creature toppled.
It wasn't long before a fire crackled, and Sight gnawed hungrily on roasted meat. The flavor was richer, stranger than boar-tiger, almost sweet. He devoured it without hesitation, his scarf tucked aside as he tore through more than most men could stomach.
When he finished, the bones left behind could have fed a family of five. He leaned back against a log, patting his stomach with satisfaction.
Sight: Heh. Not bad. But I'm still hungry…
Days blurred together.
He crossed rolling hills, where wildflowers spread like carpets of purple and blue. He climbed rocky ridges, where the wind howled sharp against his ears. He waded rivers, his scarf soaked and his boots muddy, laughing as fish darted around his legs.
Everywhere he went, new species revealed themselves:
Birds with three tails that glimmered at dusk.
Rodents with antlers, their cries sharp as whistles.
A massive turtle basking on a rock, its shell patterned like mosaic stone.
Each discovery left him staring in wonder. For all his strength, for all his battles, Sight was still a boy seeing the world for the first time.
Sometimes he laughed at his own clumsiness chasing a bird only to trip over a root, or trying to grab fruit from a high branch only to have the whole tree shake loose and bury him in leaves.
Other times, when the nights grew too quiet, he lay awake staring at the stars. The same stars under which Hakai and Sōzō had once gazed. And he wondered.
Sight (thinking):Two years ago… I fell from the sky. Why? From where?
No answers came. Only the silence of the night, and the crackle of his fire.
On the fifth day, the air changed.
The scent of salt carried on the wind. The cries of gulls echoed faintly above. Sight crested a hill, his eyes widening as the world unfolded before him.
There, stretching endlessly to the horizon, was the sea. Blue and vast, its waves glittered under the sunlight, rolling endlessly against the shore. And nestled at its edge, built upon stone and sand, was a city.
Lavandia.
From afar it looked like a patchwork of roofs, tiled in warm brick reds and deep browns. The city sprawled along the coast, its eastern face bordered by a wide marina where ships swayed gently. Masts speared the sky, sails flapping in the wind. Beyond, beaches curved like pale ribbons, dotted with fishermen and merchants unloading their catch.
The streets glimmered faintly, paved with stone, weaving between rows of tall, narrow houses two or three floors each, their half-timbered frames painted in pale creams and whites. Smoke rose from chimneys, and colorful banners fluttered across balconies.
But what caught Sight's eye most were the shops. Even from the hill, he could see glass displays lined with glowing trinkets, enchanted objects pulsing faintly with magic.
Sight:Magic items… so many…
His scarf whipped as he broke into a run, descending the slope toward the city.
The gates were open, and the streets beyond were alive with sound. The chatter of merchants bargaining. The clatter of hooves on stone. The calls of sailors unloading crates of shimmering shells and strange crystals.
Sight's eyes darted everywhere. A shopkeeper waved a glowing lantern that floated by itself. Another sold quills that wrote words as he spoke them. Children squealed as a toy bird of glass flapped its wings above their heads.
The scent of food struck him like a hammer. Meat sizzling, bread baking, spices sharp and sweet mingling in the air. His stomach growled so loudly people turned to stare.
Sight:Ugh…
He followed the smell until he found himself before a restaurant. Its windows gleamed, polished glass offering a clear view inside. And there, on a table just beyond the glass, lay a feast: roasted fish glazed in herbs, steaming bowls of rice, golden bread fresh from the oven.
Sight pressed closer, his breath fogging the glass.
Sight: …Looks… so good…
He swallowed hard. His stomach growled again, louder this time. But when he patted his scarf for coins, his hand came up empty. He had nothing.
Nothing but hunger.
Sight: Guess… I'll just watch…
He stood there awkwardly, scarf tugged over his mouth, trying not to drool as his eyes followed every bite lifted by the customers inside.
Then—
A tap on his shoulder.
Sight flinched, turning quickly.
Behind him stood a woman, her figure framed by the golden light of the setting sun. She had an amused smile tugging at her lips, eyes sharp but not unkind.
Woman: Hungry?