Chapter 7
Atoi gathered what he needed for the journey and packed everything into a bag. He stepped outside and tied the bag securely to Caiman's back. The horse moved slightly but stood firm. After a quiet breath, Atoi returned inside the house. Kayaku and Dodo were waiting for him. Atoi looked at them and spoke calmly.
"Thank you… for everything you've done for me. Now, I'm going."
He turned toward the door.
"Stop."
Kayaku's voice was steady.
Atoi paused but did not turn fully. Kayaku stepped closer.
"I'm coming with you."
Dodo looked surprised.
Kayaku continued, his eyes serious.
"I want to see Mist Rain with my own eyes."
"This is not a path you should walk alone."
The air in the room grew heavy. The journey had just changed. Atoi stood still for a moment. Then a small smile appeared on his face.
"As you wish," he said calmly.
No argument.
No hesitation.
Kayaku gave a slight nod. Dodo suddenly stepped forward.
"Me too."
Both Atoi and Kayaku looked at her. Dodo crossed she arms, trying to look serious.
The three of them prepared for the journey together, without hesitation and without waiting any longer. Kayaku secured his cloak and checked his weapons, while Dodo carefully packed the remaining supplies. Outside, two more horses stood beside Caiman, strong and calm, ready for the road ahead. They divided the bags evenly and tied them tightly onto each horse, making sure nothing was loose and nothing was forgotten. Atoi gently placed his hand on Caiman's neck before mounting. Kayaku climbed onto one horse, and Dodo mounted the other, still adjusting his seat. Three riders, three horses, and one road ahead. Without looking back, they finally began their journey toward Mist Rain.
They rode toward the center of the village, their horses moving steadily along the familiar path. When they arrived, Kayaku stepped forward and raised his voice so everyone could hear him. His call echoed through the morning air.
One by one, the villagers gathered in the open square. Men, women, elders, and children stood together, looking at Kayaku, at Dodo, and at Atoi.
Kayaku looked at his people with calm strength.
"People of Beluga," he called out clearly, "we are leaving on a journey. We will cross distant lands and seek knowledge. While we are gone, stay united. Stay strong. Protect this village."
The villagers listened in silence, the weight of his words settling over them.
Kayaku lowered his hand and gave one final look at the villagers before speaking firmly, "Move forward." He nudged his horse ahead, and the hooves struck the ground with a steady rhythm. Atoi guided Caiman forward without a word, while Dodo followed close behind. The villagers stepped aside, watching in silence as the three riders passed through the center and toward the edge of Beluga. Slowly, they crossed beyond the village boundary, and without turning back, Kayaku led the way as Atoi and Dodo followed him into the open land ahead.
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The old man and Kamado walked deep into the forest, moving quietly beneath the tall trees. They did not speak much, only listening to the sound of leaves beneath their feet and the distant wind between the branches. After a long walk, they came upon a lost village — abandoned and forgotten by time. No one lived there. The houses were broken, walls cracked, and roofs had fallen long ago. Everything had been destroyed years before.
They stepped onto the old village path carefully. Strangely, although the buildings were ruined, nature had taken over. Green vines covered the walls, grass grew thick along the roads, and wildflowers bloomed between the stones. The village looked less like a place of ruin… and more like a quiet green garden hiding a painful past. They kept walking through the silent village, their steps slow but steady. Ahead of them stood a large gate, tall and worn by time, covered in creeping vines and moss. It looked ancient, but it was still standing strong.
They did not stop. They passed through the gate without hesitation. In front of them began a long stone staircase — fifty wide steps leading upward toward what once had been a palace. The steps were cracked and partly covered in grass, but they still formed a clear path. At the top, the ruined palace waited in silence. The old man and Kamado continued forward, climbing toward it.
The front of the palace was also destroyed, its pillars cracked and parts of the roof collapsed. Dust and vines covered the broken entrance, and silence filled the air.
They stepped carefully inside.
The main hall was dark and wide, with shattered walls and fallen stones scattered across the floor. At the far end of the hall stood a large golden door. Even after all these years, it still shone faintly beneath the dust. Strange symbols were carved across its surface, glowing softly as if they still held power.
Kamado stepped forward slowly.
He reached out and placed his hands against the door.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, with a deep, heavy sound, the golden door began to move.
It slowly opened. The golden door opened fully with a deep echo that rolled through the empty halls.
Inside, a vast chamber revealed itself.
The air was cold and still.
At the far end of the room, raised upon a wide stone platform, stood a single throne.
A king's throne. There was no king.
No guards.
No sound.
Only the empty throne… watching them in silence. Both of them stepped deeper into the palace. The air was thick with dust, and spider webs hung from the broken ceiling and across the walls. Every step they took stirred the silence that had rested there for years. The floor was covered in dirt and fallen pieces of stone, and the smell of age filled the hall.
Slowly, they moved forward.
Step by step.
Toward the throne at the front of the chamber. They stopped in front of the throne.
Dust floated softly in the air around them. The chamber was silent, heavy with age and forgotten memories. Both of them stood there, looking at the empty throne as if it held answers. The old man's expression changed.
Without turning his eyes away, he spoke in a calm but firm voice,
"Kamado… you can leave now."
His words echoed gently through the vast hall. Kamado didn't like what he heard. His hands tightened slightly, and for a brief moment, he looked as if he wanted to argue.
But he didn't.
He had always respected the old man. Without saying a word, Kamado lowered his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then he turned around and began walking back across the dusty hall. His footsteps echoed softly as he passed through the broken entrance and disappeared outside the palace.
The old man remained alone. Standing before the empty throne. Kamado walked out of the palace slowly, the heavy silence following him. He passed through the broken hall, stepped beyond the ruined gate, and left the empty village behind without looking back.
The wind moved softly through the abandoned houses as he crossed the old stone path. Soon, he reached the edge of the village.
Without stopping, he continued walking.
Into the forest. The trees closed around him, their shadows swallowing the last sight of the lost village as Kamado disappeared among them. The old man remained alone in the vast chamber.
After a long moment of silence, he slowly lowered himself to the floor in front of the throne. Dust rose gently as he sat down, crossing his legs on the cold stone.
He did not look tired.
He did not look afraid.
He simply sat there… facing the empty throne. The broken palace was silent once more. Only the old man and the throne remained, The old man carefully placed the sword on the ground to his right side, letting it rest there. Then, taking a deep, steady breath, he closed his eyes calmly.
Everything around him—the broken palace, the empty throne, the dust, and the silence—seemed to fade away as he focused inward, sitting quietly in stillness.
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Atoi and the others moved along the narrow snow-covered path, their horses stepping carefully over the frozen ground. The wind howled through the mountains, carrying sharp flakes of snow that brushed against their cloaks.
Each breath turned into mist in the cold air. The path was uneven and slippery, hidden beneath layers of white. Kayaku rode ahead, watching the trail closely. Atoi followed with Caiman, steady and focused. Dodo stayed close behind, pulling his cloak tighter against the freezing wind. The mountains stood tall around them, silent and unforgiving. The journey through the snow had begun. Kayaku slowed his horse and turned slightly.
"Atoi… give me the map."
The wind carried his voice through the cold air.
Atoi reached into his cloak, pulled out the rolled parchment, and guided Caiman closer. Snow brushed against his gloves as he handed it over, Kayaku took the map and opened it carefully, shielding it from the wind. The three of them paused on the narrow snowy path. The mountains waited in silence.
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