The square lay silent in the aftermath. Rainwater still pooled in the cracks left by the battle, shimmering in the moonlight. Broken beams, splintered wood, and the faint smell of smoke clung to the air.
The villagers gathered around Sight. Some looked at him with wide-eyed gratitude, others with unease, whispering in voices too low for him not to hear.
Villager 1: He saved us…
Villager 2: …but at what cost? The Kingdom will return.
Villager 3: They'll bring more soldiers, more mages…
The elder's cane tapped against the wet ground as he stepped forward, his wrinkled face pale with worry.
Elder: Sight… What you did today saved us all. But make no mistake the Kingdom of Steel does not forgive humiliation. They will come back, and next time… it will not be an envoy ship. It will be war.
The villagers bowed their heads in silence. Children clung to their parents. Men clenched their fists, powerless against the weight of that truth.
Beside him, Lily refused to let go of Sight's sleeve, her eyes red with tears.
Lily: They're lying… You beat them, Sight! You'll beat them again! You'll protect us forever, right? Right?!
Sight knelt, resting a hand on her head. His smile was gentle, but his eyes… his eyes were distant.
Sight: As long as I'm here, you'll be safe.
He didn't say what weighed in his heart: But if I stay, you'll never be safe again.
That evening, the house was quiet. The smell of stew still lingered faintly, but the warmth of earlier days had gone. Lily had cried herself to sleep, her small body curled up beside her mother.
Sight sat across from the older woman, the only sound between them the faint crackle of the hearth. Finally, she spoke.
Mother: …You deserve to know the truth.
Sight looked up, surprised by the heaviness in her voice.
She folded her hands in her lap, eyes drifting toward the window as though staring into memory.
Mother: Two years ago, you were found in the forest. Unconscious. Alone. The villagers thought you had been abandoned… but the truth is, when they found you, you hadn't come from the ground. [her voice trembled] The witnesses swore they saw you fall… fall from the sky itself.
Sight's chest tightened. His earliest memory waking in this very house, Lily crying softly beside him. Nothing before that but his own name, carved into the void of his mind.
Sight: …All I remembered… was Sight Albar.
She nodded.
Mother: Yes. And since then, you've protected us. Become one of us. But… perhaps you were never meant to stay in this small village.
Her words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken fear.
Far away, aboard the retreating steel ship, rage festered.
Arlock lay slumped against the wall of his quarters, scepter dim beside him, his hands shaking as he whispered the same words again and again.
Arlock: No one surpasses me in water… no one… no one…
The envoy, face pale with humiliation, ranted in the halls.
Envoy: That boy will pay! I'll see his head mounted on the palace gates! He dared humiliate me! A mere peasant—
His words echoed until they reached a throne room cloaked in shadow. At its far end sat the King of Steel. His face was unseen, but when the name "Sight Albar" was spoken, his lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile.
King: Sight Albar… Interesting. Place a bounty on him. Alive… or broken.
Night fell quiet over the village.
Sight stood alone beneath the moonlight, his scarf swaying in the cool breeze. His pack rested against his shoulder, lightly filled with the few things he owned. He had made his choice.
If he stayed, the Kingdom would come again. And next time, the village would burn.
He turned toward the gate but froze.
Lily: Sight… don't go!
Her voice cracked with tears as she ran to him, clutching his arm. Her face was blotched red, her eyes wet, her small hands trembling.
Lily: You can't leave! Please! You're… you're my big brother! If you go, who will play with me? Who will protect us?
Her mother stepped softly from the doorway. Her eyes glistened, but her smile was gentle, steady. She held a small cloth bag in her hands.
Mother: Lily… hush. [she looked at Sight, offering the bag] Food for your journey. You'll need it.
Sight hesitated, his throat tight.
She stepped closer, resting a hand against his cheek. Then, softly, she kissed his forehead.
Mother: You may not have been born my son… but in my heart, you are.
Sight's chest ached. Words failed him. All he could manage was a strained whisper.
Sight: …Thank you.
He turned, pulling his scarf tighter, and stepped toward the road beyond the gate.
Behind him, Lily collapsed into her mother's arms, sobbing as they watched his figure fade into the night. Tears rolled silently down the woman's cheeks, but her arms held Lily tight.
Together, they watched the boy they had taken in the stranger who became family walk into the unknown.
The journey of Sight Albar had begun.