Chapter Twenty-Five: The Road to Memory
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Road to Memory
The wind that swept through the Kingdom of Ashren carried the scent of spring—blooming cherry trees, market spices, and the iron tang of distant rain. Kael moved through the narrow streets, hood drawn low, his boots silent against the cobbled stone. He didn't want attention. Not here.
He was only passing through.
At least, that's what he told himself.
The city around him bustled with life: children ran between carts, old merchants bartered over silver, and the banners of the New Order fluttered in uneasy harmony beside those of the rebuilt Dream Land. Kael kept his head down.
He had no interest in ghosts.
Until he bumped into one.
She was carrying a small basket of herbs, her silver hair tucked under a scarf, her face older but still regal. Her emerald eyes met his—and for a brief, terrifying second, time stopped.
"Do… I know you?" she asked softly.
Kael's heart seized.
It was Natalia.
His mother.
Even now, years later, her presence still carried weight. Her voice, gentle yet commanding, echoed with the familiarity of lullabies he didn't remember, and memories he wished he could.
But he couldn't.
Not now.
Not yet.
Kael forced a small smile and stepped back. "I'm just a wanderer, my lady. You must be mistaken."
Natalia blinked, uncertain. "I could've sworn…"
But Kael was already walking away.
His fists were clenched beneath his cloak, his heart waging war with itself. He had wanted to see her. But not like this. Not when she finally had peace. Not when the truth would only drag her back into sorrow.
And so he kept walking.
By twilight, he reached the outer edge of the city, where wild meadows opened like forgotten memories. The road curved toward the hills—toward the old forest where it had all begun.
Where he had met Andrew.
Where his destiny had shifted forever.
He stopped as the stars began to rise—and there, beneath the old withered tree, sitting exactly where she had been that first day, was her.
The girl with the quiet smile and the encrypted scroll that had led him to Andrew so long ago—Lira.
She looked up at him, surprise flickering in her dark eyes before it turned to warmth.
"I hoped you'd come back here one day," she said.
Kael sat beside her beneath the tree, the bark rough behind his back, the stars spilling like stories across the sky. Silence stretched between them—but it was a comfortable silence. He watched her as she leaned her head back, hair glowing in the moonlight.
He smiled faintly.
"You never told me your name back then."
"Didn't need to," she said. "You weren't listening."
He chuckled softly. "I'm listening now."
They talked until the fireflies came, until the stars blinked drowsily above them, and Kael found—without realizing it—that he liked her. Not just for the past, or the mystery. But for the way she made the world feel quiet, if only for a moment.
When dawn came, he left her sleeping beside the tree, wrapped in his cloak, and continued the final stretch of his journey.
Back to the hill of swords.
Back to the training grounds where Andrew had broken him—and rebuilt him.
But when Kael arrived… the place was empty.
No banners.
No echo of steel.
No footprints in the dirt.
No Andrew.
Only the wind.
And the sword Kael had once trained with—left driven into the earth, as if it waited for someone to claim it once more.