The sun slowly surrendered to the horizon.
Its golden light melted into deep shades of orange and violet as evening settled over Thunderwood.
Wisps of clouds stretched across the sky like painted brushstrokes, catching the last rays of daylight before giving way to the coming night.
The world had become quiet again.
The sounds of hammers rebuilding damaged homes echoed faintly from the city below, while a cool breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the scent of fresh pine and damp earth.
Riven stood alone at the edge of the clearing.
His golden eyes remained fixed on the four shattered pieces of his chokutō resting on a weathered tree stump.
The blade that had once reflected the sunrise…
The blade that had carried him through every battle.
Broken.
He slowly knelt and picked up the largest fragment.
The thin golden line running down its center—the mark that had always made it feel uniquely his—ended abruptly where the steel had splintered apart.
His thumb brushed over the jagged edge.
“So…” he whispered to himself.
“This is what defeat feels like.”
The sword hadn’t simply broken.
It had failed to protect the people he cared about.
Just like he had.
Footsteps crunched softly behind him.
Javon walked up beside him, hands tucked behind his head as if he hadn’t spent the last several days worrying sick.
For a while, he didn’t say anything.
He simply looked down at the ruined blade.
Then he shrugged.
“…I knew that sword sucked.”
Riven slowly looked up.
Javon pointed toward the broken pieces with exaggerated seriousness.
“I mean, look at it.”
“One fight with some ancient immortal psychopath and it falls apart?”
He folded his arms dramatically.
“I’ve seen kitchen knives put up a better fight.”
The corner of Riven’s mouth twitched.
Barely.
But Javon noticed.
“There it is.”
He smiled.
“I was wondering if your face still remembered how to do that.”
Riven looked back down at the shattered blade.
“It wasn’t the sword’s fault.”
His voice was quiet.
“It did everything I asked of it.”
Javon’s expression softened.
“I know.”
He crouched beside Riven, carefully picking up one of the smaller fragments.
“You know…”
He turned the broken steel over in his hand.
“I actually know someone.”
Riven looked toward him.
“A blacksmith.”
Javon nodded.
“And not just any blacksmith.”
“The best I’ve ever met.”
“He lives in a mountain town called Cliffhaven.”
He handed the fragment back.
“They say he can forge weapons capable of withstanding Vyr itself.”
Riven looked down at the broken sword once more.
“…Can he repair this?”
Javon studied the cracked steel before slowly shaking his head.
“I honestly don’t know.”
He hesitated.
“But if anyone in this world can…”
“…it’s him.”
Silence settled between them.
The evening wind stirred the grass around their feet.
“Only problem…”
Javon scratched the back of his head.
“Cliffhaven is about a ten-day journey from here.”
Riven stared toward the distant mountains silhouetted against the fading sunset.
Ten days.
Farther than he’d traveled since arriving in Thunderwood.
Farther from the only home he’d managed to build since losing Soulmere.
His fingers tightened around the broken blade.
He couldn’t keep fighting like this.
Not after Lucifer.
Not with stronger enemies waiting somewhere beyond the horizon.
Slowly…
He nodded.
“Alright.”
His voice carried quiet determination.
“We leave as soon as I’m able.”
He paused before adding,
“But Vistara comes with us.”
Javon blinked.
“That’s… oddly specific.”
Riven remained staring at the horizon.
“I don’t know why.”
He frowned slightly.
“But ever since the battle…”
He unconsciously touched the faint crimson scar stretching across his chest.
“…something inside me refuses to let her out of my sight.”
The words surprised even him.
It wasn’t love.
At least…
He didn’t think it was.
It felt deeper than that.
As though some unseen part of him kept whispering the same warning.
Protect her.
No matter what.
Javon stared at him for a moment.
Then a grin slowly spread across his face.
“You two have the most confusing relationship I’ve ever seen.”
Riven looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
Javon laughed.
“You act like strangers.”
“You worry about each other like family.”
“And everyone else can tell you like each other except…”
He pointed at Riven.
“…the two people involved.”
Riven frowned.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Exactly.”
Javon laughed harder, shaking his head as he turned toward the house.
“I swear, one of these days you’re going to figure it out.”
Still chuckling to himself, he walked back toward the warm glow spilling from the cabin windows.
Riven watched him disappear inside.
“…He always says odd things.”
A faint smile lingered on his face as he looked back at the broken pieces of his sword.
Then he carefully gathered every fragment.
Not a single piece would be left behind.
Because no matter what the blacksmith said…
He wasn’t ready to let go of his first blade.
Not yet.
The days passed quietly.
Life continued in Thunderwood.
Merchants reopened their shops, children returned to the streets, and the laughter that had vanished after Lucifer’s attack slowly found its way back into the city.
But several miles outside the city…
On the secluded stretch of land that Lord Alric had gifted to Riven…
Nothing had changed.
The battlefield remained exactly as Lucifer had left it.
Massive craters scarred the earth.
Entire rows of trees had been snapped in half like twigs.
Deep trenches carved through the ground stretched for hundreds of feet, silent reminders of the blows that had sent Riven flying across the valley.
The mountainside where Riven and Raku had crashed still bore fresh fractures, pieces of stone occasionally breaking loose and tumbling into the clearing below.
No one had repaired it.
No one wanted to.
To anyone who stepped onto the land…
The destruction spoke for itself.
Riven stood in the center of it all.
His golden eyes swept across the ruined landscape.
He could still remember exactly where every strike had landed.
Where Lucifer had stood.
Where Raku had fallen.
Where his sword had shattered.
His hand unconsciously drifted to the crimson scar stretching across his chest.
The faint warmth beneath his fingertips reminded him that the battle had not been a nightmare.
It had been real.
Without another thought, he bent down and hoisted a massive boulder onto his shoulders.
His muscles immediately strained beneath its tremendous weight.
Stone scraped against his back as he slowly climbed the steep mountain path overlooking the battlefield.
Each step was deliberate.
Each breath controlled.
His boots sank into the dirt.
Sweat rolled down his face long before he reached the summit.
When he finally arrived, he gently lowered the enormous rock onto the growing pile already waiting there.
Seven.
Seven boulders now rested at the top.
Yesterday there had only been six.
Without stopping to admire his progress, Riven immediately turned and sprinted back down the mountain.
His feet blurred over the uneven ground.
The cold air rushed past his face.
The ruined battlefield became little more than streaks of brown and green beneath him.
Far behind…
“…Wait!”
Javon’s voice echoed through the valley.
“Slow down!”
Riven didn’t.
“I am!”
Javon shouted back between desperate breaths.
“Which is the problem!”
His legs felt like they had turned to stone.
Every muscle screamed for mercy.
Still…
He forced himself onward.
One step.
Then another.
If Riven could keep moving after everything Lucifer had done…
Then he refused to quit first.
“I…”
He gasped.
“…hate…”
Another stumble.
“…mountains…”
One more step.
“…and…”
His vision blurred.
“…exercise…”
Finally, his legs gave out.
He collapsed onto the grass with an exhausted groan.
He rolled onto his back, staring up at the evening sky.
“…keep…”
Another deep breath.
“…up…”
Nearly a hundred yards ahead, Riven finally stopped running.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Seeing Javon sprawled across the ground…
He quietly waited.
Javon groaned louder.
“Don’t…”
He pointed weakly toward Riven.
“…stand there looking all calm.”
“It somehow makes me feel worse.”
Nearby, beneath the shade of one of the few trees that Lucifer hadn’t destroyed, Syanna covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Beside her, Aelwyn watched with his hands folded behind his back.
“Excellent.”
Syanna blinked.
“Excellent?”
The old mage nodded.
“He’s exhausted.”
“Which means…”
He gestured toward Javon.
“…it’s your turn.”
Javon’s head slowly lifted.
“…Excuse me?”
Aelwyn ignored him completely.
“Today I want you to heal only his exhaustion.”
Syanna tilted her head.
“Only his exhaustion?”
“Correct.”
“A lifebinder who simply floods the body with Vyr will never master true healing.”
He pointed toward Javon’s trembling legs.
“Restore his stamina.”
“Leave the muscle fatigue.”
Javon’s eyes widened.
“No.”
“No, no, no.”
“I don’t like that sentence.”
Syanna knelt beside him anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
A soft emerald glow spread from her palms.
Gentle Vyr flowed through Javon’s body.
Within moments…
The crushing exhaustion disappeared.
He took a deep breath.
“…Whoa.”
“I can breathe again.”
He smiled.
Then stood.
Immediately—
“AAAAAH!”
He doubled over, grabbing both thighs.
“My legs!”
“They’re still trying to murder me!”
Syanna burst into laughter.
“It worked!”
Aelwyn smiled proudly.
“Very good.”
“Your control has improved significantly.”
He looked at Syanna with genuine pride.
“If you continue progressing at this rate…”
“…you may soon reach the level of a Neshama lifebinder.”
Syanna froze.
“…Really?”
“There are only a handful of lifebinders in Kavara capable of reaching that rank.”
“You should be proud.”
A warm smile spread across her face.
“…Thank you, Master.”
Meanwhile…
Javon was still dramatically clutching his legs.
“I’d like it officially recorded…”
“I volunteered to help.”
“I did not volunteer to become an experiment.”
Syanna crossed her arms.
“You literally asked me to practice.”
“I didn’t know practice meant me!”
“Too late.”
She smiled innocently.
“You signed the imaginary paperwork.”
Javon looked desperately toward Riven.
“Back me up!”
Riven looked at the three of them.
A small smile appeared.
“…You did this to yourself.”
Javon stared at him in disbelief.
“I have never felt so betrayed.”
Laughter echoed across the ruined valley.
For just a little while…
The battlefield where Lucifer had nearly taken everything from them no longer felt like a place of despair.
It had become something else.
A place where they would grow stronger.
And someday…
A place where Riven promised himself he would return.