The morning sun spilled over Ardent Hollow like molten gold, warming rooftops and sending smoke curling lazily into the sky. The village was stirring; merchants bickered over prices, children ran along cobblestone paths, and the distant clang of hammers echoed from the blacksmith's hut.
Kael leaned against the fence by the river, skipping stones absentmindedly, watching the ripples spread. He wasn't training today — not formally. Today was for observing, listening, learning. Or, in his case, pretending he wasn't listening while still absorbing everything.
"You know," a familiar voice broke the silence, playful and teasing, "if you skip practice one more day, the river's going to start calling you lazy."
Kael glanced up to see Liora, hands on her hips, a faint smirk on her lips. The sun caught in her hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow, though she didn't look up from the mud on her boots.
"I'm not lazy," Kael replied dryly, flicking a stone farther down the river. "I'm… recalibrating my energy flow."
Liora raised an eyebrow. "Recalibrating, huh? That's a new one." She laughed softly, the sound bright against the hum of the river. "Your energy's been flowing just fine for the past five years. Don't tell me it suddenly needs adjusting today."
Kael shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. "You don't understand subtle forces."
"Oh, I understand," she said, crouching to grab a pebble. She threw it upstream just as Kael had thrown his last stone. "I understand that you're using every excuse not to do chores before breakfast."
Kael rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I'm still faster than you."
"You wish." Liora laughed again, standing and brushing dirt off her hands. "Race to the other side of the village. First one there doesn't have to clean the livestock pens today."
Kael smirked. "Deal. But don't cry when I win."
They ran. The village blurred past them: the blacksmith banging metal, the baker shouting at a runaway piglet, the grocer juggling apples as a mischievous cat pounced on his cart. Kael moved with effortless precision, ducking under hanging signs and leaping over mud puddles. Liora was fast, but her boots weren't made for speed, and she stumbled once on a loose cobblestone.
"Ha! Told you!" Kael laughed, landing gracefully at the edge of the old well.
Liora huffed, brushing herself off, eyes sparkling with mock indignation. "This isn't over, Kael. One day, you'll slip on your own arrogance."
Kael shook his head, laughing softly. "Not today."
As they caught their breath, Kael noticed an older woman watching them from a nearby window. She waved, a fond smile stretching across her lined face. "You two never change, do you?" she called.
"Never!" Liora shouted back, grinning. "We're legends in the making!"
Kael chuckled quietly, though a pang of unease tugged at him. He loved these moments — the simplicity, the laughter, the warmth of the village — but part of him always felt out of place, like a thread woven into a tapestry too vast for him to see.
Later, they sat on the riverbank, legs dangling over stones, skipping small pebbles into the water. Silence settled for a moment, but it wasn't awkward. The kind of silence that comes when two people understand each other without words.
"You ever think about… why we're here?" Liora asked suddenly, tossing a pebble into the river.
Kael tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"This village, this life," she said, eyes following the stone as it sank. "Do you ever wonder why we're… why you are the way you are? Why some people can move like you do, and others can't even lift a heavy log?"
Kael's hand twitched slightly, a faint shiver running through him. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "Sometimes I think it's luck. Sometimes I think… maybe it's something else. Something I can't understand yet."
Liora's gaze softened. "You're not normal, Kael. But that doesn't mean it's bad. It's just… heavy, isn't it?"
Kael looked at her, meeting her eyes for the first time that day. There was a warmth there, a sincerity he rarely allowed himself to see. "Sometimes," he said quietly. "Sometimes it is."
They sat in silence again, the river's gentle rush filling the space. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and earth. Above them, the sky was a pale blue, untouched by the chaos of fragments and Titans that had shaped the world long before.
Liora nudged him playfully. "Stop being so serious. You'll wrinkle your forehead and scare the villagers."
Kael let out a small laugh, almost involuntarily. "Maybe I like scaring them."
"Of course you do," she said, rolling her eyes, but the hint of a smile lingered.
By mid-afternoon, a small commotion stirred near the village square. Children had trapped a stray fox in a makeshift pen, thinking it mischievous. The animal growled, darting and snapping. Villagers gathered, unsure whether to intervene.
Kael approached calmly, crouching low. "It won't attack unless provoked," he murmured. His hand hovered, steadying, and the fox paused, tilting its head at him curiously.
"Kael, don't touch it!" one of the children cried, though with awe more than fear.
He smiled faintly, speaking softly. "It trusts me already." The fox stepped closer, brushing against his hand. The villagers watched in astonishment, whispering again about the boy who moved like he understood everything around him.
Liora leaned beside him. "You know, if you weren't so calm, people might actually worship you."
Kael laughed quietly. "I'd rather they just… live their lives."
As sunset approached, the two walked back toward the village edge, their shadows long across the cobblestones. Liora glanced at Kael, nudging him gently. "You ever think about leaving?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. The thought was heavy, as though speaking it aloud might summon it. "Sometimes," he said finally. "But I don't know if the world's ready for what's coming… or if I am."
Liora's smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer, almost sad. "We'll figure it out. Together, maybe."
Kael nodded. The warmth of her words settled in him, a quiet anchor against the pull of something vast and unknown — the fragments, the Titans, the bloodline whispering silently in his veins.
As night fell, the village lanterns glowed like stars fallen to earth. Laughter drifted from homes, children's voices echoed, and for the first time that day, Kael allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could belong somewhere — even if the world beyond the village would one day demand more of him than he could yet imagine.
And somewhere, unseen, fragments deep in the forest shifted ever so slightly, sensing him, waiting.