Memories in motion

The first light of dawn stretched across the sky, bleeding soft hues of gold and violet into the untouched wilderness. Mist curled between the towering trees, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh leaves.

Then, a deep, guttural howl ripped through the tranquility.

The underbrush trembled as a massive wolf—twice the size of a normal beast, its muscles rippling beneath dark fur—charged forward. Its claws tore through the soft earth, and its golden eyes burned with hunger and instinct.

Across the clearing, a lone black-haired warrior stood waiting. His stance was firm, his grey eyes locked onto the beast with unwavering focus.

The wolf roared, surging forward.

The man moved.

The blade of his longsword flashed in the morning light as he swung in a sharp, precise arc. The wolf, sensing the strike, twisted its body, dodging with terrifying agility. It lunged from the side, claws swiping toward his ribs.

The warrior dodged, barely shifting his weight in time to avoid being ripped open. His feet skidded across the dirt, but before the beast could strike again, he pivoted—his blade whipping upward.

Crack.

The sword's edge slammed into the wolf's skull. Blood sprayed into the air. The beast let out a strangled growl, stumbling, dazed from the blow.

It wasn't enough.

With a final burst of strength, the warrior drove his sword forward, piercing the wolf's heart.

The beast gave a single, pained shudder. Then, it collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

Silence returned to the forest.

Then—clapping.

I exhaled, my chest rising and falling with the rhythm of battle still pulsing through me. The weight of my sword felt familiar now, steady in my grip.

From the tree line, Oboe stepped forward, his hands coming together in slow, deliberate applause. His once-dark fur was streaked with silver, and deep lines traced his face—a sign of the years that had passed.

"Not bad, kid." He nodded toward the dead wolf. "You're ready."

I didn't move. The words felt heavy. I had spent ten years training for this moment.

From behind Oboe, Banjo appeared. He had changed too—his once round frame had thinned with age, though his eyes still held the same familiar warmth. He gave me a grin and tossed me something.

I caught it out of the air.

A small, black device fit snugly in my palm, the glass screen flickering to life.

"A rift radar," Banjo said. "Piccolo made it for you. Should help track down nearby rifts."

I turned it over, inspecting the unfamiliar futuristic metal casing. It hummed faintly in my hands, pulsing as if it were alive.

I nodded in thanks, slipping it into my belt.

"Well," Banjo stretched his arms, "now that we've given you your fancy gadget, I guess you're off to find your sister."

I felt a familiar weight press against my chest. My hand instinctively found Chime's pendant, gripping it tightly.

A long silence stretched between us.

Then, Oboe sighed. "We're not doing sentimental goodbyes." He waved a hand. "You've got places to be, so get moving."

Banjo smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Your sister's waiting."

I hesitated. Then, for the first time, I asked, "What about you all? What are you going to do next?"

Oboe blinked, then let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "What, worried about us?" He shook his head. "Don't be. We'll be fine. We always are."

Banjo grinned. "We've got rifts to chase, loot to find. Maybe we'll even retire and open up a bakery. I'd make a great baker, don't you think?"

Piccolo snorted from the side. "You'd probably burn down the whole shop."

I let out a quiet chuckle. It felt strange—laughing when I was about to leave everything I knew behind. But it also felt right.

I strapped my sword to my back, took a deep breath, and ran.

The trees blurred past me as I sprinted through the forest, my feet barely touching the earth. The wind roared in my ears, but my mind was lost elsewhere.

I had spent a decade under Oboe's training. I still remembered the first time I picked up a sword, how awkward it had felt in my hands. I remembered the first time I dodged an attack, the first time I landed a real hit.

I remembered the nights sitting by the fire, listening to Lute sing—Piccolo complaining about the way Banjo snored. I remembered Drum watching the stars in silence, Bassoon carefully testing a scavenged blade before selling it.

They had raised me. They had shaped me into the warrior I was now.

But this journey…

This part of my journey was mine alone.

The sun began to set, and I realized I wouldn't reach the rift before nightfall. It was farther than I thought. I slowed my pace and searched for a place to set up camp.

I found a quiet clearing and dropped my pack, stretching my sore shoulders. The night air was cold, but the silence was even colder.

I sat by the small fire I built, staring into the flickering embers. This was the first time in ten years I had been alone.

No campfire stories. No Banjo complaining about the cold. No Oboe keeping watch.

For the first time, there was only me.

A part of me had expected to feel free. Instead, I just felt... small.

I clenched Chime's pendant in my fist.

"Are you out there, Chime?"

I had no way of knowing. No guarantee that she was alive.

But I had to believe.

I would find her.

With that thought, I lay back, staring up at the stars. Tomorrow, I would step through the rift. But tonight, I let myself remember the past—one last time.

The next morning, I reached the clearing.

The rift came into view.

It was massive—a swirling tear in reality, its edges flickering like shattered glass. The air around it crackled, distorting like heatwaves, pulling at the fabric of the world itself.

I slowed to a stop, my breath steady.

For a moment, I just stared at it.

My fingers curled tighter around Chime's pendant.

I saw her face in my mind. She should be fifteen now. Wherever she was, she had spent ten years alone.

I refused to let that continue.

I stepped forward.

The pull of the rift sent a shiver down my spine. The last time I had seen one, I had been a helpless child—watching my sister be ripped away.

Now, I was the one choosing to step through.

I took a deep breath.

Then, I leaped.

The moment my body passed through, the world shattered into infinite colors.

And my journey truly began.