The night air was cold as the Phalyx soared above the darkened landscape, its wings cutting silently through the sky. Trails of soft blue Lumina energy flowed from the creature's feathers, leaving a faint, shimmering path behind them. Beneath them, the land stretched out in shadow, but far in the distance, Renjiro could still see the faint orange glow of his village burning, the embers flickering dimly against the night.

He couldn't bear to look at it any longer. The pain was too fresh, the images of his uncle lying lifeless, of his home reduced to ash, played over and over in his mind. His hands clenched the Phalyx's smooth, cool scales so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

The Blue Clan soldier beside him remained silent, his face hardened by battle and exhaustion. Renjiro could see the wear in his posture, the weight of whatever war the man had been fighting. But it wasn't just the soldier's injuries that kept him quiet—it was the gravity of everything they had just left behind.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken until the soldier finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "You're still in shock," he said, not unkindly. "It's hard to accept what's happened."

Renjiro didn't answer at first. His gaze remained on the horizon, on the distant glow that marked his village's destruction. The wind rushed past him, but the cold did nothing to numb the raw ache in his chest. "I… I couldn't do anything," he whispered at last. His words fell like stones into the stillness around them, swallowed by the vastness of the night.

The weight of that admission pressed heavily on him. The memories of his uncle's last moments haunted him—Satoshi fighting with everything he had and then being crushed by General Calo as though he were nothing. And Renjiro… too weak to stop it.

"I wasn't strong enough," he continued, his voice breaking. "I couldn't protect anyone. Not my home, not my uncle…" His throat tightened as he thought of Kaelan, still buried under the rubble when they fled. "I don't even know if my friend is alive."

The soldier said nothing for a moment, letting Renjiro's words hang in the air. His expression softened slightly as he glanced at Renjiro. "You did what you could," he said finally. "Sometimes, surviving is the only thing you can do."

Renjiro shook his head, anger bubbling up in his chest. "That's not enough," he snapped, his voice sharper now. "Surviving isn't enough. I couldn't save them, and now they're all gone. My whole village…" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

The soldier turned his gaze back to the sky. "You were never going to stop Calo. No one could—not alone. You weren't ready for a fight like that." His voice was calm, but the truth in his words cut deep. "But that doesn't mean it's over. The fight is still ahead of you."

Renjiro's hands clenched tighter around the Phalyx's scales, the sharp cold of the air stinging his face. His uncle's final struggle, the helplessness of watching him die—it was all he could think about. "I wasn't strong enough," he repeated, the words bitter on his tongue. "I failed."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The soldier gave a deep sigh, his voice taking on a firmer tone. "Strength isn't just about winning every battle. It's about knowing when to fight—and when to live to fight another day." He glanced at Renjiro, his expression hardened. "You're alive. You have another chance. That's what matters now."

Renjiro's heart clenched. His uncle was dead, his village destroyed, and Kaelan… Was there even hope that Kaelan survived? His mind raced with the uncertainty, the guilt. "Kaelan…" Renjiro muttered, his voice barely audible. "What if he didn't make it?"

The soldier's brow furrowed, his voice quiet but steady. "The Crimson Dynasty takes prisoners. They don't kill everyone. If your friend wasn't there when you left, there's a chance he was taken."

Renjiro's heart skipped at the words, hope flickering faintly. "Prisoners?"

"Yes. They use them as leverage—slaves, or worse. But the fact that you didn't find him doesn't mean he's dead. There's a chance he's still alive."

The flicker of hope sparked something in Renjiro, but it was fragile—fragile because he knew what the Crimson Dynasty was capable of. If Kaelan had been taken, he was in the hands of monsters. The thought of Kaelan suffering, helpless against their cruelty, sent a fresh wave of anger through him. His fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms.

"I need to get stronger," Renjiro said, his voice hardening with conviction. "I need to be able to protect the people I care about. I won't let this happen again. I can't… I can't feel this powerless ever again."

The soldier looked at him closely, his eyes narrowing. "Strength doesn't come from anger alone," he warned. "You'll burn out before you even get close to becoming strong if you let revenge drive you. Discipline and focus—that's what you need if you want to survive this war. You need to be more than just angry."

Renjiro turned his gaze to the stars above, his frustration building. "How can I move on? My whole village is gone. My uncle died because I wasn't strong enough. Kaelan… I don't even know if he's alive. How am I supposed to let go of that?"

The soldier's voice remained calm, but it was firm, almost unyielding. "You can't change what happened. You can't bring them back. But you have a choice now—to stay trapped in the past or to focus on the future. You've got potential, Renjiro, but if you're only chasing revenge, you'll never reach it."

Renjiro swallowed hard. He wanted to argue, to reject the soldier's advice, but deep down, he knew the truth. Clinging to his guilt, his anger—it wouldn't bring his village back. It wouldn't bring his uncle back. But it was hard to accept, harder than anything he'd ever faced. He was torn between the grief of the past and the uncertain path ahead.

After a long silence, Renjiro finally spoke, his voice steadier now. "I'll go with you. To the Azeron Academy. I'll train. I'll get stronger. I won't let something like this happen again."

The soldier nodded a faint glint of approval in his eyes. "Good. That's the first step. The training won't be easy, but you'll learn if you're serious about getting stronger. You've got more potential than you realize."

As they flew onward, the landscape below them began to shift. Mountains rose in the distance, their jagged peaks cutting through the darkness. The air grew colder and thinner, and Renjiro could feel the shift in the wind as the Phalyx carried them higher, closer to the Azeron Citadel.

Renjiro closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. The grief still burned inside him, an ache that wouldn't go away. But alongside it, something new was growing. A resolve he hadn't felt before.

If Kaelan was alive, he would find him. If the Crimson Dynasty thought they could break him, they were wrong. He would train, become stronger, and one day, be powerful enough to protect the people he loved.

As the Phalyx continued to soar the night, leaving the remnants of his village far behind, Renjiro made a silent vow. He would never be powerless again.