Five years have come and gone since Kyoya's fleeing of Teleo: one of which spent as a wanderer, and four training under a man who took him in upon a realization of potential. The now-Archduke Aronne Oberon successfully rid Teleo of its Demonic invaders—a brutally bittersweet victory, but one that placed him proudly atop the kingdom's heirarchy.

In contrast, across the years spent as a wanderer, Kyoya has grown under allegiance to no banner, swearing oaths to no throne. Across those spent training, his purpose slowly found its way back to him, and with it came the strength he'd sought for so long...

...And now, with the advent of ominous forces beginning to reveal themselves, it would appear that the time for his will to be tested once again slowly approaches.

It took a great deal of prodding for Kyoya to be allowed on an excursion into Altaire, Takera's central capital Kingdom. Even though he wouldn't be leaving for another day, the excitement building up in his mind could hardly be contained.

The stage was set for another day as normal; crisp, welcoming breezes painted autumn-orange over the surrounding forests' trees, ranging from pines to broadleaves wherever the eye could see. Their residence doubled as a training ground and a homestead, though leaning more toward the former. It had four rooms: a bath, commons, and a bedroom for his master and one more for the grounds' resident caretaker, along with an exterior battlefield.

Further up the mountain, up stairs fashioned out of solid rock, rested the pedestal: a fifteen foot tall, thirty long bronze sculpture of a dragon of unknown origin, standing pridefully on two legs, with its arms and wings outstretched. The beast was depicted to be roaring, testifying to an almost regal strength in doing so. Its horns and talons glistened in moonlight and shone in the sun, reflecting and seeming to even radiate tranquility in the knowledge of an unquestioned protector.

Year-round, it inexplicably resisted any and all elements that would have completely demolished any other structure. Snow wouldn't rest on it for more than a few moments, and even the most vicious winds couldn't do so much as sway the grand statue. Up until four years ago, his master and the three students that chose to devote themselves to serving it as he'd done the same for many years prior were the only residents.

This shrine was one that the master explained would require no sacrifice, but must be protected. Why? He was never told... but enough patience was said to yield the answer.

Even though none of those training or serving under his wing were of any relation, their seasoned overseer always referred to them as his grandchildren. Albeit odd at first, the feeling of acceptance and belonging the gesture instilled in Kyoya was more than enough for him to abandon any remotely negative interpretations. This only sharpened his desire to learn more from the man, culminating in his pupil's eventual allowance of unsupervised travel when the time came for excursions into potential dangers.

Following the completion of the boy's morning routine, a determined glare at the rising sun marked the advent of his reformed story.

"It's unlike you to be awake this early outside of training, my boy. Where does your mind wander today?" Even when gentle, the master's voice never failed to demand recognition. Out he trod from the commons, hands behind his back.

Feeling tender gusts of wind caress his hair, Kyoya's right hand stretched skyward, following a light yawn.

"Let's see..."

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The boy began, yet another yawn escaping him, "...that way." He pointed to the horizon, the fiery star illuminating their mountaintop in a show of prominence. Even if he hated flames, he had no malice to harbor toward the still-shining stars. It never truly meant anything to him, nor did they serve a divine purpose, and they reminded him of fire... but, they were what got him here.

They served as his excuse to have continued sharpening Fire magic in spite of his past—though not by his choice. His master made the decision for him to study it after hearing the boy's story, determined to prove Kyoya's single greatest fear as an asset rather than a hindrance. "Say, Guran—er, Master Guran?" he asked.

Following a poorly hidden laugh, his master responded.

"Even four years later, formality remains far from a strong suit." They shared a sigh, returning to the conversation. "What ails you?"

"I guess I've just been a bit curious, is all... but why is it that you decided to let me go on my own, now?" Kyoya kept his gaze forward, hands leisurely at his hips. Nothing felt wrong to him about it, but his tendency to think a little too hard often got the best of him.

"Well, your being seventeen does make you eligible for unattended travel. Although traditional laws haven't been a priority of mine, I'd still rather you were safe than sorry. All the time you've spent here has led up to the only trial I have left—so, past that, your path is your own." Guran walked to his pupil's side.

He traced the boy's gaze, ending up exactly where he was looking. "Do you remember how it was that you found yourself here?"

After a few moments of thought, Kyoya adopted an expression of interest.

"C'mon, gramps, it's been way too long to keep the specifics."

"The day you arrived at our gate, sister Reika asked how you'd managed to find this place. If you recall, a rather potent barrier protects our grounds. She said you told her that you were following the stars, and that when something got in your way, you moved it out... and then she proceeded to find a gaping breach in the barrier's southern wall!"

Guran cackled, "The Rose thought it to be fascinating, your choice to follow them. They didn't ever actually lead you in a different direction, merely straight—but somehow or another, you ended up here. Although, had she not stopped you, I figure you'd have kept on moving north."

Kyoya's eyes widened in response.

"Was it really that long ago?"

"Indeed, it was. I agree with you, though: it certainly does not seem to be so. Just look at how you've grown."

His master overturned a palm, creating a screen of reflective light before them both. Granted that the homestead only had one mirror, being in the young women's room, he'd never really taken it upon himself to see his reflection, save for scattered instances of seeing it in water.

He was much taller than he'd ever taken the time to think about. It would be expected for five years to grant height, but his lack of consideration made the discovery almost surprising. He stood around six feet flat, his skin hued a tanned peach that hinted at untold hours in the sun.

His build wasn't that of a Grandeur Knight's, but remained toned enough to escape the title of plump—it was more refined, even: boasting a sleek, well-kept frame as opposed to that of engorged muscles and a burly mass of unkept promises.

The boy's features were sharp, with striking sapphire eyes and a jaunty smirk serving as his calling card. Mid-length, wildly spiked hair of a dark navy hue complemented a rugged disposition, with two lighter azure crests extending up and out above his forehead. The right side went up a few inches, then angled back down to fall above his right eye and finish at his chin, while the left went further up with a few spikes, but had no such angle.

Kyoya begrudgingly took note of his acutely chipped right-canine tooth, which grew misshapen as time had gone on. Now, it'd have been more accurate to call it a fang, albeit with a less than commendable origin story—chronic toothaches were something he could definitely live without.

His attire wasn't anything fancy: a pair of brownish shin-length pants and a dark gray, mid-sleeved shirt with blue accents and highlights. On his feet were gray-black high-top combat boots, donning off-white laces and a strap midway down.

One wouldn't take him to be of any interest past first glance, but he was the type to prove his points with punches anyway.

"Jeez... It's almost like I've lived here my whole life," the boy said, taking a brief pause. "Or, everything worth remembering, I mean." He confided, offering a half-hearted smile.