Kael and Elira stood near the edge of the square, watching the crowd thin. The soft hum of conversations lingered as the villagers dispersed to their homes, the echoes of Berry’s lecture still alive in their minds. Children’s laughter faded into the distance, and the cool evening breeze carried the faint scent of earth and woodsmoke.
Elira glanced at Kael, her expression soft but thoughtful. “It’s still early,” she said. “The sunset over the pier is beautiful this time of day. Would you like to join me for a walk?”
Kael hesitated, then nodded. “Why not? Lead the way.”
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The wooden planks of the pier creaked softly under their steps as they reached the end, where a few fishing boats swayed gently in the water. The waves lapped against the posts, their rhythmic sound blending with the calls of distant seabirds. They stood side by side, watching the sun dip lower into the horizon.
“Berry really knows how to command a room,” Elira said with a faint smile. “Though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lecture with so many interruptions.”
Kael chuckled. “It’s a tough crowd. But he got his point across. Most of them seemed pretty engaged by the end.”
Elira nodded, her expression growing thoughtful. “It’s strange… knowing that so many of us have potential for something so powerful, yet dangerous.”
“You’re handling it well,” Kael said. “Not everyone would step into that role so naturally.”
Elira glanced at him, her smile softening. “What about you? You seem like you’ve stepped into a lot of roles.”
Kael raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not just some ordinary wanderer. Anyone can see that. You’ve got… knowledge, experience. You’re holding onto secrets.” She paused, then added, “I think it’s time you shared a few.”
Kael sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.” Elira grinned. “So? Start talking.”
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Kael leaned against the railing, his gaze drifting over the water. “Alright,” he said. “Ask your questions.”
Elira’s eyes lit up. “Only one? Or—”
“Let’s keep it to a manageable number,” Kael interjected, smirking. “Otherwise, we’ll be here all night.”
Elira bit her lip, considering. “Fine. Why are you so heavy?”
Kael laughed, his tone teasing. “Are you calling me fat?”
“What? No!” Elira stammered, her cheeks reddening. “I mean… the day I pulled you from the river. You were impossible to move on my own.”
Kael’s laughter subsided, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It’s not fat—it’s my body. It’s been… altered.”
Elira tilted her head. “Altered? What do you mean?”
Kael paused, searching for words that might make sense to someone from her world. “Let’s say… I’ve been engineered. My body isn’t entirely natural anymore. Parts of it have been modified to make me stronger, tougher, and more resistant to things that would normally harm a person.”
Elira’s brows knitted. “Engineered? You mean like… built?”
“In a way,” Kael replied, leaning on the railing. “Not like forging a sword or crafting a wheel. More like… enhancing what’s already there. My muscles are denser, my bones harder to break. Even my immune system fights off things faster than it should. It’s not magic, though—it’s science.”
Elira’s gaze dropped to the water, her mind working to grasp his explanation. “Why would anyone do that to themselves?”
“To survive,” Kael said simply. “My line of work isn’t exactly safe. Exploration, mapping, resource acquisition—it’s dangerous. Without these… enhancements, I probably wouldn’t have made it this far.”
Elira looked up at him, her green eyes curious. “But what does it feel like? To know that parts of you… aren’t human?”
Kael’s expression softened. “Most of the time, I don’t notice it. It’s just who I am now. But yeah, there are moments where it feels… disconnected. Like I’m something other than what I was born to be.”
Elira frowned, her voice quiet. “That sounds lonely.”
Kael shrugged, offering a faint smile. “It can be. But it also lets me do things I never could’ve done otherwise.”
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she shifted the subject. “What about your eyes? There’s something different about them too, isn’t there?”
Kael turned to face her fully. “You’ve got a good eye—pun intended. Take a closer look.”
Elira leaned in cautiously, her face mere inches from his. At first glance, his eyes looked the same—intense and sharp—but as she examined them closer, she noticed the subtle difference. His right eye wasn’t entirely human. The iris had a faint, unnatural glow, and the surface seemed too perfect, almost metallic.
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“It’s… not real,” she whispered.
“Nope,” Kael said with a small smile. “This one’s a sensor. It can zoom in, detect heat signatures, and analyze certain materials. Useful for exploration and… spotting things most people can’t.”
Elira blinked, still studying his face. She hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten until Kael’s faint smirk broke her focus. Heat flushed her cheeks as she quickly stepped back, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Kael chuckled. “Something wrong?”
“N-no,” she stammered, shaking her head. “Where are you staying tonight?”
Kael blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “Hadn’t thought about it. I’m fine anywhere, really. My body’s resistant to cold. Maybe I’ll find one of those makeshift tents.”
Elira frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay with us. We have a spare room.”
Kael hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. It’s the least we can do after everything you’ve done for the village.”
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Elira led Kael through the quiet house, the faint glow of lanterns casting soft shadows on the wooden walls. She gestured toward a small but tidy room at the end of the hall. “It’s not much,” she said with a smile, “but it should be comfortable.”
Kael stepped inside, taking in the simple bed, a small desk, and a wooden chair. He set his pack down beside the desk and turned back to her. “This is more than enough. Thanks, Elira.”
She lingered at the doorway for a moment before nodding. “Goodnight, Kael. Get some rest.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Kael let out a long breath. For the first time in days, he felt a sense of normalcy—however fleeting it might be. He stretched his shoulders and began unpacking his belongings. His tactical suit, carefully folded, caught the faint light, the blue lines glowing softly along its surface. Beside it lay the broken hilt of his personal sword and a few rations.
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Lexa’s voice broke the silence. “Ha! Thought you were alone, didn’t you? Don’t forget about me. Oh, and by the way—I saw you blush earlier. Cute.”
Kael rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to be quiet.”
“I am,” Lexa replied, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “Just not silent.”
Ignoring her, Kael retrieved the sleek suit from his pack and began slipping it on. The material clung to his body, the faintly glowing lines coming to life with his movements. Lexa chimed in again. “Oh, yes. Very inconspicuous. You’ll blend right in.”
Kael groaned. “Less talk, more work. Help me configure something that fits this world.”
A moment later, Lexa projected an image of a bright pink medieval outfit onto the suit. Kael stared at his reflection in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What? It’s stylish,” Lexa teased.
Kael sighed. “Try again. Keep it dark—black, brown, green. Functional.”
With a soft hum, Lexa adjusted the projection. The suit transformed into a simple yet rugged ensemble, its dark tones blending practicality and subtlety. Kael inspected it in the mirror and nodded. “Better.”
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The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window as Kael stepped outside. The village was already alive with activity. On the central square, Berry stood with Elira and Alma, guiding them through magical exercises. Kael waved briefly, his mind preoccupied as he moved toward the outskirts of the village.
Near the edge of the village, he spotted Felix, training alone with a wooden shield and sword. The younger man’s movements were deliberate but strained. Kael approached, watching him for a moment before speaking. “Working hard, I see.”
Felix glanced up, panting. “I have to. This… it’s all I can do.”
Kael smiled faintly. “I’m not the best person to guide you on magical matters, but I can help with your technique. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Felix nodded, demonstrating his moves. Kael watched intently, listening as Lexa whispered observations about Felix’s stance and movements. When Felix finished, Kael offered his feedback, pointing out areas where his stance could be more stable.
Felix adjusted, and as he raised his shield, a faint shimmer of mana flickered along its edges, briefly extending its reach. He stared at it, astonished.
Kael nodded. “See? Progress. Keep at it.”
Felix grinned, his earlier frustration replaced by determination.
Kael gave him a pat on the shoulder before moving on, his thoughts turning to his own needs. I need a weapon. A real one.
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The seventh brigade had set up camp along a quiet stretch of road, their horses tethered nearby and the knights scattered in small groups, polishing weapons or speaking in hushed tones. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, leather, and the faint aroma of stew bubbling over a central fire.
Orlan Herdan sat apart from the rest, his ornate chair a stark contrast to the rough benches used by his men. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest, his eyes narrowing as a small caravan approached from the south. The rumble of wheels and the creak of wooden axles broke the stillness of the camp.
“Who approaches?” Orlan snapped, rising from his chair. His voice carried an edge of irritation.
Sir Drennor stepped forward, his sharp gaze fixed on the caravan. “A merchant’s caravan, by the looks of it. Likely traveling to the city.”
Orlan’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Stop them. Let’s see what they’re carrying.”
Drennor hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Is that wise? We’re on the king’s mission—”
“And as the king’s representative, I demand obedience,” Orlan interrupted sharply. “Have them stopped.”
Drennor’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, signaling a group of knights to intercept the caravan. The merchant, a wiry man with graying hair, pulled his cart to a halt as the knights surrounded him. His nervous eyes darted between the armored figures.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the merchant demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Orlan approached with a leisurely stride, his hands clasped behind his back. “Wrong? No, of course not. But it is your duty to support the crown, is it not?”
“I already pay my taxes,” the merchant replied, his tone clipped.
Orlan’s gaze drifted to the back of the cart. “And yet, you carry goods that could serve the king’s men. We’ll be taking what we need.”
The merchant’s face flushed with anger. “You can’t just take my wares! I have a family to feed.”
Orlan’s smile turned cold. “Your family should be grateful their sacrifice aids the kingdom. Perhaps you’d prefer to discuss this further—with my knights?”
The merchant opened his mouth to retort, but Sir Drennor stepped between them. His voice was calm but firm. “Enough, Herdan. The man’s given no cause for punishment.”
Orlan’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Do you question my authority, Drennor?”
“I question the wisdom of abusing it,” Drennor replied evenly, meeting Orlan’s gaze without flinching. “The men are watching. They signed up to serve, not to pillage.”
Orlan scoffed, turning away with a dismissive wave. “Take the wine. Leave the rest.”
The knights exchanged uneasy glances but followed the order, loading a crate of fine bottles onto one of their horses. The merchant stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides.
Drennor lingered, his expression grim. “I’ll see to it that your loss is accounted for,” he said quietly to the merchant, who gave a small, bitter nod before climbing back onto his cart.
As the caravan disappeared down the road, Drennor turned to one of the older knights nearby. “How much longer do you think they’ll follow a boy like him?”
The knight sighed, his voice low. “Not long. Not long at all.”