The first rays of dawn had yet to break over the mountains when the sound of steel echoed through the quiet valley.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Riven’s sword cut through the cold morning air again and again, each swing crisp and controlled.
Sweat already rolled down his forehead despite the cool breeze drifting through the trees.
Most of Thunderwood still slept.
Riven had been awake for hours.
“You call that a proper stance?”
Raku’s voice rang across the training field like a commander’s shout on a battlefield.
The spirit stood with his arms folded, his translucent armor shimmering faintly in the moonlight.
“No, sire!”
His voice carried the same authority it must have centuries ago when he commanded soldiers.
“Again!”
Without a word, Riven reset his footing.
His left foot slid back.
His shoulders lowered.
His grip tightened.
He swung.
The blade sliced cleanly through the air.
Raku’s eyes narrowed.
“Better.”
A brief pause.
“…Still wrong.”
Before Riven could ask how—
“Fifty trips.”
Riven blinked.
“…What?”
“The mountain.”
Raku pointed toward the steep slope rising behind the house.
“You were three centimeters off.”
Javon, sitting comfortably on the front porch with a steaming mug in his hands, nearly choked.
“Three centimeters?!”
Raku didn’t even look at him.
“Yes.”
“…You measured that?”
“I saw it.”
Javon slowly lowered his cup.
“…That’s terrifying.”
Riven simply nodded.
“Understood.”
Without complaint, he placed his sword against a nearby stump and immediately started running toward the mountain.
Javon watched him disappear into the trees.
“…He’s actually doing it.”
Raku looked almost offended.
“Of course he is.”
“You’re telling me if someone said I was three centimeters off—”
“They often do.”
“I’d quit.”
“You also hide behind a shield.”
“I survive.”
“You survive because other people are fighting.”
Javon pointed dramatically.
“I don’t like this ghost.”
Raku smiled.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Nearly an hour later…
Riven returned.
His breathing was heavier now, but his expression hadn’t changed.
Without resting…
Without drinking water…
He picked up two enormous boulders.
One rested across each shoulder.
They were so large that most men wouldn’t have been able to roll them across the ground.
“Move.”
Raku didn’t yell.
He simply gave the command.
Riven obeyed.
He sprinted.
Each step shook the earth beneath him as he climbed the nearby hill carrying the impossible weight.
His muscles screamed.
His lungs burned.
Still…
He didn’t stop.
Halfway up the hill, his legs nearly buckled.
“You are tired.”
Raku’s voice echoed behind him.
“But exhaustion is not permission to stop.”
Another step.
“You think Varnis would have rested?”
Another.
“You think the men hunting you will wait until you’ve caught your breath?”
Riven gritted his teeth.
“No.”
“Then keep moving.”
With a determined exhale, he pushed onward.
By the time he reached the summit, the sun had finally begun rising over Thunderwood.
Golden light spilled across the valley below.
Riven stood there for only a single breath.
Then—
He jumped.
His body launched from the cliff’s edge, soaring over the valley below before landing heavily on another rocky outcrop with a thunderous crash.
Dust exploded into the air.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Raku had him leap from boulder to boulder, forcing him to control every landing.
“Power means nothing without balance.”
Another jump.
“Balance means nothing without precision.”
Another.
“And precision…”
Raku’s eyes narrowed.
“…keeps you alive.”
Back at the house, Javon leaned against the porch railing, watching the impossible training unfold.
He slowly shook his head.
“You know…”
He took another sip from his mug.
“It really is fascinating watching him train.”
His eyes followed Riven as he carried another pair of massive stones uphill.
“He somehow makes all of that look easy.”
Vistara stepped onto the porch beside him.
She had been watching quietly for several minutes.
Her eyes never left Riven.
“He doesn’t make it look easy.”
Javon glanced sideways.
“He just never complains.”
Vistara smiled faintly.
“He works harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She watched as Riven stumbled slightly beneath the weight of the boulders…
Only to immediately regain his footing and continue climbing.
A warmth settled in her chest.
“He really is amazing…” she whispered.
Javon noticed the look on her face almost instantly.
A grin slowly spread across his own.
“…Hey.”
Vistara didn’t answer.
“Hey, tiny.”
She sighed.
“What?”
“When are you finally going to tell him?”
She blinked.
“…Tell him what?”
Javon gave her the most unimpressed look imaginable.
“Oh, don’t even start.”
He pointed directly at Riven.
“We all know.”
Vistara’s cheeks immediately began turning pink.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.”
“I am not lying.”
“You’ve watched him train every morning for two weeks.”
“I like watching people improve.”
“You made him lunch yesterday.”
“He forgot to eat.”
“You repaired his shirt.”
“It had a hole.”
“You spent twenty minutes brushing sawdust out of his hair.”
“…”
Vistara looked away.
Javon’s grin grew even wider.
“I rest my case.”
She folded her arms tightly.
“…It’s not like that.”
Javon laughed.
“Vistara.”
He leaned closer.
“That man has spent most of his life talking to trees, ghosts, and books.”
She couldn’t help laughing a little.
“He has absolutely no idea when someone likes him.”
He looked back toward Riven, who was now swinging his sword under Raku’s watchful eye.
“If you don’t tell him…”
Javon shrugged.
“…he’ll probably think you’re just being nice.”
Vistara sighed softly.
“I know…”
Her eyes drifted back to Riven.
Watching him smile ever so slightly after finally earning a nod of approval from Raku.
“…I’m just waiting for the right time.”
Javon smiled.
“…Just don’t wait too long.”
Neither of them noticed…
That Aelwyn had quietly appeared in the doorway behind them.
The old wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully before smiling to himself.
“Youth…” he murmured.
“…is wonderfully complicated.”
The sun had nearly disappeared beyond the mountains, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet.
Long shadows stretched across the clearing as another exhausting day of training finally came to an end.
Riven dragged his sword behind him as he walked toward the house.
Every muscle in his body burned.
His shoulders felt as though stones had been tied to them, and each step sent a dull ache through his legs.
Behind him, Raku floated with his hands folded behind his back, completely unfazed.
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” he said in his usual calm voice.
“And if your sword is off by more than two centimeters…”
He glanced at Riven.
“…it will be one hundred trips up the mountain instead of fifty.”
Riven didn’t even have the strength to argue.
“…Understood.”
He simply continued walking, breathing heavily with every step.
From the porch, Vistara had watched the entire day’s training.
She had watched him carry boulders until his hands bled.
She had watched him collapse only for Raku to order him back to his feet.
She had watched him climb the mountain so many times she had eventually lost count.
Every instinct in her wanted to stop it.
Yet every time she took a step forward…
She remembered why he was doing this.
The world beyond Thunderwood had already taken everything from him once.
He refused to let it happen again.
Still…
Seeing him like this hurt.
Riven reached the porch steps and grabbed the railing for support.
His legs trembled.
He tried to hide it.
He didn’t want anyone worrying about him.
Just one more step…
His knees nearly buckled.
Before he could catch himself, a small pair of hands wrapped around his arm.
“I’ve got you.”
Riven looked down.
Vistara had slipped beneath his arm, supporting far more of his weight than someone her size should have been able to.
She struggled slightly under the difference in height, but she didn’t complain.
Instead she smiled up at him.
“You’re impossible.”
Riven let out a quiet breath that almost resembled a laugh.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I know.”
She carefully helped him toward the front door.
“You push yourself until you can’t stand.”
She paused.
“You don’t have to carry everything by yourself anymore.”
Almost pleading.
Riven looked at her.
Only now did he notice how worried she looked.
Her eyes searched his face as though checking for injuries she couldn’t see.
The same way…
His mother had.
His chest tightened.
“You know…”
His voice was quiet.
“You look at me the same way my mom used to.”
Vistara blinked.
“When I’d come home after sparring with my father…”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“I’d always pretend I wasn’t hurt.”
He chuckled softly.
“She never believed me.”
He looked into Vistara’s emerald eyes.
“She’d scold me while patching me up.”
His smile became warmer.
“But she always had this look.”
He searched for the words.
“Like seeing me hurt hurt her even more.”
Vistara’s eyes widened slightly.
She hadn’t expected him to speak about his mother.
Especially not like this.
Riven’s expression softened.
“When you look at me…”
“…I see that same expression.”
For a moment neither of them spoke.
The evening breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the house.
Vistara lowered her eyes, trying to hide the tears beginning to gather.
“I just…”
Her voice caught.
“I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
She laughed quietly at herself.
“I know you’re trying to become stronger.”
“I know you have to.”
“But every time you come back covered in bruises…”
She tightened her grip on his arm.
“…my heart aches.”
Riven stood silently.
No one had ever admitted something like that to him before.
Not since…
His parents.
Slowly, he reached over and gently placed his hand on top of hers.
His touch made her heart nearly stop.
“I’ll be more careful.”
His voice carried a warmth she had never heard before.
“I can’t promise I won’t get hurt.”
He smiled softly.
“But…”
“If being careful eases your heart…”
“I’ll do my best.”
Vistara slowly looked back up at him.
For just a second…
The exhausted warrior standing before her disappeared.
All she could see was the kind young man beneath the scars.
A smile spread across her face despite the tears threatening to fall.
“Good.”
She nudged him lightly with her shoulder.
“Now let’s get you inside before you fall over.”
Riven laughed.
A real laugh.
Small…
Quiet…
But genuine.
Watching from the porch, Javon folded his arms and grinned.
“…Well.”
“They’re hopeless.”
Raku sighed beside him.
“It appears even our future king is powerless against one worried woman.”
“Should we tell him?”
Raku looked toward the pair slowly disappearing into the house.
“No.”
A faint smile crossed the old swordsman’s face.
“Some battles are best discovered on one’s own.”
Aelwyn and Syanna made their way back toward the house, their conversation drifting through the afternoon breeze.
Tiny motes of pale blue Vyr danced between Syanna’s fingertips before fading into the air.
“…and remember,” Aelwyn said patiently, “don’t force your soul into another person’s. Healing is like guiding a river. If you push too hard, both rivers flood.”
Syanna nodded thoughtfully.
“I know… I’m getting better at sensing the flow now.”
“You are,” Aelwyn replied with a proud smile.
“A few months ago your Vyr was wandering in every direction. Now it listens to you.”
A faint smile spread across Syanna’s face.
Praise from Aelwyn was rare enough that every compliment felt earned.
As they rounded the corner of the house, they both slowed.
Standing near the porch were Raku and Javon.
Side by side.
Neither of them was yelling.
Neither of them was threatening to throw the other off a mountain.
They were simply standing there in complete silence, watching Riven continue his training in the distance.
Syanna blinked twice.
“…Am I seeing things?”
Aelwyn rubbed his chin dramatically.
“I don’t believe so.”
Syanna looked back toward the pair before calling out,
“Oh my god…”
Both men turned toward her.
“Did you two finally become friends?”
The silence shattered instantly.
“Me?” Javon scoffed, pointing a thumb at himself.
“Friends with a ghost whose ego is somehow bigger than his kill count? That’s hilarious.”
Raku folded his arms.
“And me? Friends with a coward who hides behind a shield?”
He gave Javon a slow look of disappointment.
“Never.”
He shivered dramatically.
“I would rather be chased by the Grim Reaper for a second time.”
Javon’s expression changed immediately.
“…Wait.”
Everyone looked at him.
“You were chased by the Grim Reaper?”
Raku’s eyes widened just a little.
“…That wasn’t the important part.”
Javon stepped closer.
“No! Hold on! Back up!”
He pointed accusingly.
“You can’t casually say you’ve been chased by the Grim Reaper and expect me to ignore it!”
Aelwyn couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Careful, Raku.”
He looked toward the empty sky with exaggerated caution.
“He may hear you if you keep saying his name.”
Raku’s confident posture disappeared almost instantly.
His translucent shoulders stiffened.
“…Don’t joke about that.”
“You seriously believe he’ll show up?” Syanna asked, trying not to laugh.
Raku looked around cautiously.
“You didn’t see him.”
Javon threw both hands into the air.
“Will somebody answer my question?!”
He looked from one face to another.
“The Grim Reaper is real?”
Nobody answered.
Instead, Aelwyn casually walked past him.
Syanna followed without another word.
Raku did the same.
Javon spun around after them.
“HEY!”
Still no response.
“You can’t just drop world-changing information and keep walking!”
The three of them continued toward the porch as if he hadn’t spoken.
Javon groaned dramatically before hurrying after them.
“I hate all of you.”
Raku smiled to himself.
“The feeling is mutual.”
That earned another loud sigh from Javon.
Once they reached the porch, Raku finally looked toward Syanna.
“So,” he asked, his tone becoming noticeably gentler, “how are your lessons with Aelwyn progressing?”
Syanna’s face brightened immediately.
“They’ve been amazing.”
She glanced toward Aelwyn with obvious admiration.
“I can finally guide my Vyr instead of just pushing it around. I even managed to repair damaged soul pathways yesterday without exhausting myself.”
Aelwyn nodded proudly.
“She learns quickly.”
“I still have a long way to go,” Syanna admitted.
“But… I think I’m finally starting to understand what it truly means to heal.”
Raku smiled warmly.
“A lifebinder who understands the soul instead of simply mending wounds…”
He looked toward Riven, who was being tended to by Vistara while exchanging smiles with each other.
“…will someday save more lives than any warrior ever could.”
For a brief moment, the group fell silent.
Then—
“Can we PLEASE go back to the Grim Reaper thing?!”
Everyone collectively groaned.
Even Riven and Vistara in the next room over laughed at him.
Javon really never knew when to let something go.
The sun had long since slipped beneath the horizon, leaving the world bathed in the pale silver light of the moon.
The forest had grown quiet, save for the gentle chorus of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves dancing in the cool night breeze.
In front of Riven’s newly built home, a bonfire crackled steadily.
Bright orange flames reached toward the sky while glowing embers drifted lazily upward before disappearing into the darkness.
The group had gathered around the fire after another long day.
Raku sat with his arms folded, polishing the edge of his old sword despite the blade already being spotless.
Aelwyn hovered quietly nearby, tiny wisps of blue light circling around him like curious fireflies.
Syanna leaned comfortably against a log with a warm cup of tea in her hands, while Javon rested on another log, lazily poking the fire with a stick.
Vistara sat beside Riven.
No one spoke for several minutes.
It was one of those comfortable silences that only existed between people who had grown used to one another.
The fire crackled.
Wood popped.
The scent of roasted meat still lingered in the cool night air.
Syanna looked toward Riven, curiosity slowly replacing the peaceful silence.
“Hey, Riven…”
He looked over.
“I’ve always wondered…”
She smiled softly.
“What exactly is your goal?”
The question caught him off guard.
“My goal…?”
He stared into the dancing flames.
Months ago…
His only purpose had been survival.
Every morning had been about finding enough food to eat.
Every night had been about staying alive until the next sunrise.
Then came Varnis.
Then the truth about Yewshade.
Then his parents.
Then this house.
Then these people.
His life had changed so quickly that he had never stopped to ask himself what he truly wanted.
The fire reflected in his golden eyes as memories slowly surfaced.
His mother smiling while making dinner.
Oliver teaching him how to swing a sword.
The laughter of the children in Soulmere.
The destruction.
The loneliness.
Raku reaching out his hand.
Meeting Vistara.
Javon arguing with Raku almost every day.
Syanna patiently healing his wounds.
Aelwyn teaching everyone with endless patience.
Without realizing it…
He smiled.
“…I guess…”
He spoke quietly.
“I’ve been chasing revenge for so long…”
His eyes drifted toward the stars.
“I wanted to know who killed my family..”
He looked down at his hands.
“I thought if I found that answer… everything else would make sense.”
He shook his head with a faint laugh.
“But somewhere along the way…” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
His gaze slowly moved around the circle.
He looked at Syanna.
Then Javon.
Aelwyn.
Raku.
Finally…
Vistara.
“I realized…”
He paused, his voice becoming softer.
“…I already found something far more important.”
Everyone listened in silence.
“I want to protect my friends.”
Another pause.
“My family.”
The words came naturally now.
“You’ve all become family to me.”
His voice carried a quiet sincerity that none of them had heard before.
“I’ve already lost one family.”
His eyes lowered toward the fire.
“I don’t think…”
He swallowed.
“I could survive losing another.”
Silence settled over the camp.
Even the crackling of the fire seemed quieter.
Syanna lowered her cup.
Aelwyn smiled warmly.
Raku closed his eyes for a brief moment, pride swelling within the soul that had once believed he had failed everyone he cared about.
Even Javon looked unusually serious.
Vistara quietly turned away for a moment, pretending to watch the flames.
In truth, she was hiding the tears beginning to gather in her eyes.
For someone who had spent so much of his life alone…
Those words meant more than Riven probably realized.
After what felt like a full minute, Javon finally cleared his throat.
“So…”
He pointed at himself.
“You consider me family too?”
Riven looked at him with a perfectly straight face.
“No.”
Javon blinked.
“…What?”
“Just everyone else.”
The camp fell silent for half a second.
Then Raku burst into laughter.
“I knew it!” he shouted, slapping his knee.
“The boy finally understands!”
Javon pointed accusingly at Riven.
“You see?!”
He looked around the fire.
“I’ve been telling you all! He only makes jokes at my expense!”
Riven shrugged innocently.
“You make it very easy.”
“Oh, that’s it.”
Javon stood dramatically.
“I’m challenging you to a duel.”
Raku immediately stood beside Riven with a smug grin.
“Sire, shall I bury him?”
“You’ve been dead for centuries!”
“And yet I’m still a better swordsman than you’ll ever be.”
The camp erupted into laughter.
The sound echoed through the quiet forest, mixing with the crackling of the bonfire and the distant songs of the night insects.
Even Riven couldn’t hold it back.
A genuine laugh escaped him, deep and unguarded.
For a moment, he wasn’t the Soulbinder.
He wasn’t the Golden Demon.
He wasn’t the prince of a fallen kingdom.
He was simply Riven.
Raku stopped laughing first.
The old swordsman looked across the fire at his master, surprise softening his normally stern features.
Beside him, Aelwyn wore the same expression.
Neither of them had ever seen Riven laugh like that.
Not once.
When they had first met him, he had been nothing more than a lonely young man carrying far more grief than someone his age should ever know.
His face had almost always been unreadable, his words few, and his heart buried beneath years of pain.
Yet now…
Here he was.
Laughing with friends.
Smiling without forcing it.
For just a brief moment, the weight he carried no longer rested on his shoulders.
Raku folded his arms and allowed himself a faint smile.
“You’ve changed, Sire…” he thought quietly.
“And I could not be more proud.”
Aelwyn’s eyes glowed softly as he watched the scene unfold.
“Perhaps…” he thought.
“This is what healing truly looks like.”
The peaceful silence that followed was broken by Vistara.
She looked directly at Riven.
“My goal…”
Everyone turned toward her.
“…is to stay by your side.”
The words were spoken so naturally that it took everyone a second to process them.
Riven blinked.
“By my side?”
Vistara nodded without looking away.
“When I first met you…” she said quietly, “you carried everything by yourself.”
Her eyes drifted toward the fire.
“You never asked for help.”
“You never expected anyone to stay.”
She smiled softly.
“But somewhere along the way…”
She looked back at him.
“…I realized I don’t want you to carry everything alone anymore.”
A faint blush crept across her cheeks, though she made no attempt to hide it.
“So wherever your journey leads…”
She smiled.
“…that’s where I want to be.”
For several long seconds…
Neither of them spoke.
They simply looked at one another.
The crackling fire became the only sound in the camp.
Until—
“Ahem.”
Syanna cleared her throat dramatically.
“If you two are done staring into each other’s souls…”
Both Riven and Vistara immediately looked away.
Vistara’s face turned bright red.
Riven scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“I-I wasn’t staring.”
“No?” Javon grinned.
“You were only looking at each other for what felt like an entire season.”
Even Raku chuckled.
Syanna laughed before speaking.
“As for me…”
She looked toward Aelwyn.
“My goal is to learn everything I possibly can from Master Aelwyn.”
The ancient mage looked pleasantly surprised.
“So that one day…”
She smiled brightly.
“…I can become the greatest lifebinder this world has ever seen.”
She clenched her fist with determination.
“I don’t want people to lose the ones they love because I wasn’t strong enough.”
Aelwyn’s gentle smile widened.
“A wonderful ambition.”
He slowly floated beside her.
“But remember…”
He placed a glowing hand over her shoulder.
“A lifebinder’s greatest strength is not simply restoring flesh.”
“It is giving hope to those who believe all hope has been lost.”
He nodded proudly.
“And I intend to pass on every lesson, every spell, and every piece of wisdom I have gathered over the centuries.”
His eyes glimmered warmly.
“When my time finally comes to fade…”
He smiled.
“…I want this world’s knowledge to continue living through you.”
Syanna’s eyes widened.
“…Master…”
She bowed her head deeply.
“I won’t waste your teachings.”
“I know you won’t.”
The old mage smiled.
“You’ve already made this old soul very proud.”
Javon stretched his arms above his head before speaking.
“Goals, huh?”
He thought for a moment.
“I guess…”
He glanced toward Riven.
“…my goal is to become strong enough to stand beside him.”
The joking tone had disappeared from his voice.
“I watched him fight Varnis.”
His smile faded.
“I’ve never felt weaker than I did that day.”
He looked at his shield resting nearby.
“I don’t want to be the guy everyone has to protect.”
“I want to be someone who can protect them too.”
Riven looked over at him with quiet respect.
Before he could respond—
“Well…”
Raku crossed his arms.
“…that’s probably not going to happen.”
Javon sighed loudly.
“There he is.”
“I was wondering when the old man would ruin the moment.”
Raku ignored him.
“My goal is simple.”
Everyone turned toward the old swordsman.
He looked directly at Riven.
“When I failed King Maxim…”
His voice became quieter.
“…I believed I had failed everyone.”
The camp fell silent.
“I could not save my king.”
“I could not save my homeland.”
“I could not save the future that had been entrusted to me.”
He slowly lowered his head.
“Those regrets followed me even after death.”
His hand rested over his chest.
“But fate gave me one final chance.”
He looked back at Riven.
“It gave me you.”
His voice carried an unwavering resolve.
“So hear me well, Sire.”
“I swear upon my soul…”
“…I will never fail you.”
“Not again.”
“If I must stand between you and death itself…”
“I shall.”
“If my soul is all I have left to give…”
“I will gladly give it.”
His hand tightened into a fist.
“This time…”
“I will protect the king.”
Silence filled the camp.
Even Javon couldn’t find a joke.
Finally…
Aelwyn smiled gently.
“It seems everyone has found their purpose.”
The old mage looked toward Riven.
“And what a remarkable thing that is.”
He looked around the fire at each of them.
“Some seek knowledge.”
“Some seek strength.”
“Some seek redemption.”
“Some seek companionship.”
His gaze lingered on each face before settling on Riven.
“And all of those paths…”
“…have somehow led here.”
For a long moment, no one spoke.
The fire burned brightly between them, its warmth reaching each person gathered around it.
Riven looked around the circle.
Not at warriors.
Not at heroes.
Not at spirits.
At family.