The streets never changed.
Cracked cobblestones split beneath careless feet, and smoke clung to the air like a habit no one bothered to break. The village breathed slowly—old, tired, uncurious. Against the tavern wall, Kaelen morvach leaned back, eyes resting on the hilt of his sword as if it were the only thing in the world that made sense.
Cold iron. Solid. Honest.
People passed him without looking twice. That was fine. He had learned early that still things survived longer.
A familiar presence closed the distance—light steps, careless energy.
With a playful shove to his shoulder, Ira broke his stillness. "Still can't make a spark, huh?"
She jogged up beside him, a shriveled vegetable clutched in her hand, her grin sharp but familiar. "I swear, you're just empty metal... useless."
Kaelen barely reacted. Only a small, tired smile tugged at his lips.
Laughing, she leaned closer, eyes glinting. "Oh, don't give me that look. You know I'm right. Empty metal... that's exactly what you are."
He tilted his head, studying her. When his gaze finally met hers, it was warmer than she expected. "Come on, Ira. It's not like I don't have any magic. Besides, magic or no magic, I'm determined to pull through."
A soft chuckle slipped out of him.
Her composure cracked instantly. The grin she'd been holding burst free, genuine and unguarded.
Watching her laugh, something shifted in Kaelen's chest. He'd seen her smile a thousand times—but this one lingered. Warm. Unforced.
Before he could stop himself, the words escaped. "Wow... You're beautiful."
His heart kicked violently. He rubbed his fingers hard into his palm, grounding himself.
Without missing a beat, her fist smacked his shoulder. "Obviously!"
She spun away dramatically, pigtails snapping across his face. "I'm the most beautiful in the village. So you've got some competition... hmm!"
The moment shattered.
A sharp, mocking laugh sliced through the square.
Silk brushed against stone as a boy stepped into view—blue and white fabrics draped with practiced arrogance. "Ahh, is this her? The runt of the village?"
His gaze curled with open disgust as it landed on Ira. "The disgrace everyone is talking about?"
Her face darkened instantly, fury flashing. She raised the vegetable in her hand and smashed it against the ground. A wet squelch echoed. The pieces scattered—nothing remained.
"Mind your—"
Kaelen moved before she could finish. He stepped forward, placing himself between them, stance widening, shoulders squared.
His voice dropped—low, steady, dangerous. "I believe the person you should be talking to is me."
The air thickened.
Windows creaked open. Doors cracked just enough for watching eyes. No one interfered. To challenge a noble—even a child—was treason.
The boy laughed, cold and hysterical. "You're bold, little runt. Bold enough to stand in my way?"
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Bold enough to defend someone from your cruelty."
"Defend?" The boy sneered, stepping closer. "From me? You're nothing. A shadow pretending to have substance. Tell me, can you even lift a spark, or is that beyond your reach?"
Kaelen's gaze didn't waver. "Magic or no magic, I can still make my mark."
The noble's lips curled. "We'll see about that. One day I'll be a knight, and when I am, this village—and you—will crumble to dust."
His words were sharp enough that he bit his own tongue, a thin ribbon of blood staining his lips.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed, his stance firm but unflinching. "Empty threats from empty boys leave empty echoes."
The noble spat on the ground. "I hope you're ready, Kaelen."
The boy turned and walked away, his silks brushing the stones. Some villagers flinched; others whispered behind half-open shutters.
Ira didn't look at Kaelen. Her eyes were fixed on the dirt, fingers clawing at her arms as if scrubbing off the noble's gaze.
"How could he?" she hissed, jagged and low. "To compare me to him... a runt who can't even spark. A low-life with no essence."
She wasn't talking to Kaelen. She was talking to the ghost of her own reputation, mourning herself as if he wasn't even standing three inches away. To her, he had already ceased to exist.
Kaelen's hand, reaching out to comfort her, stopped in mid-air. It didn't tremble. It just… stayed.
"Oh," Kaelen whispered, voice calm, soft, careful. "You're just like them, aren't you?"
Her reaction was violent. She shoved his hand away. "This only happened because of you!"
Her scream cracked through the square. "How could he compare me to a low-life runt like you? You can't even control your soul essence!"
Kaelen flinched—not from the words, but from the way they landed. Not loud. Not sharp. Final.
The noble was already gone. Now the villagers emerged, emboldened, their whispers crawling over his skin. He became aware of them all at once—their eyes, their judgments, the way they leaned closer now that it was safe.
He looked back at Ira.
Softly, almost reflexively: "It's not my fault."
Her rage didn't slow. It sharpened. "Not your fault? I feel like tearing your throat out!"
Something inside Kaelen slipped.
Not shattered. Not exploded. Disconnected.
The warmth he'd been holding—carefully, foolishly—went quiet. His eyes dulled, like a light switched off in a room no one remembered entering.
He stepped back.
One step—distance. Another—decision.
Reality caught up to her all at once.
The anger collapsed. The space he left behind felt enormous. Tears broke free as she ran after him. "Kaelen! I'm... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—"
He stopped.
Not because of her voice—but because he was done moving.
He didn't turn fully. Just enough for her to see what was missing. His face was calm. Empty. Unreachable.
"It's fine. You were angry."
As she reached out, his hand slipped away without resistance. No tension. No hesitation. "I have to go."
Her voice fractured, barely holding together. "Then it's..."
He cut her off.
Each word landed clean. Precise. Unemotional. "DON'T. BOTHER."
She froze.
Cold crawled up her spine. The space around him felt wrong—not hostile, not violent. Just present. Watching. As if something had briefly looked through her and decided she wasn't worth explaining anything to.
It wasn't Kaelen.
But the stare felt like his.
---