The silver Knight

Chapter 25: Veyrune



Rai stood at the bow of the ship, the deck creaking faintly beneath his feet, surrounded by the murmurs of those who had cleared the exams. The number on his wrist was gone, leaving only faint marks where it had once been etched. In its place was a map, pressed into his hands like a token of the next chapter. Some examined their maps with furrowed brows, others folded them carelessly into rockets, as if the vastness of the world could hold no surprises for them.

Rai held his map tightly, his gaze drawn to the intricate borders and swirling ink. His finger paused over a name, Veyrune, the letters curling like vines across the page. A shadow crossed his vision, and he turned to see Hydrorina standing beside him, her blue hair catching the faint light of dawn.

"We'll be dropped off in this country," she said, her voice calm, though her fingers fidgeted as she tucked her hair back behind her ear.

"I see," Kaizen murmured, his words sparse but steady.

Nearby, Raze snored loudly, a bubble swelling and shrinking at his nose as he slept, oblivious to the gentle shift of the ship. Normally, Giro would have kicked him awake by now, grumbling about his noise. But tonight, Giro stood silent, his eyes locked on the sprawling night sky above. His fists were clenched just enough to show that something deeper churned within him, though he said nothing.

The hours slid by like the dark waters below, and the first light of the next day brought the jagged coastline of Veyrune into view. The air changed—gone was the biting cold of ice, replaced by a warm wind that carried the faint scents of earth and salt. As the ship reached the docks, voices rose in excitement, and the newly minted travelers wasted no time. One by one, they leapt from the ship, scattering like seeds into the breeze, each hurrying toward the dreams that had carried them this far.

Yet Rai, Kaizen, Raze, and Giro remained on the deck. Hydrorina turned to see them still standing there, their silhouettes framed by the golden light of morning. She didn't ask why they lingered; their silence spoke louder than any words could.

"Hey! Uhm… guys..." Hydrorina's voice faltered, her usual confidence buried under the weight of something unspoken. She shifted her feet and glanced down, as if the words she wanted to say might be written in the grain of the ship's deck. "I'm in this country for a very important reason... I'll catch up to you after finishing what I started. You can find me in a city called Waters." Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, and there was a glint in her eyes—a mix of determination and something softer, something harder to name.

Kaizen barely looked up, his focus already somewhere distant, perhaps in the city she had just named or further along his own path. "Okay! Do what you have to! I'll also do what I have to. Let's meet in the Waters," he said, his tone brisk, as if rehearsed, his thoughts elsewhere.

Giro stood apart from them, quiet. He didn't beg her to stay, didn't say a single word. He only raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, his eyes avoiding hers. Beside him, Rai and Raze did the same, their goodbyes simple, unburdened. Hydrorina hesitated, her gaze lingering on Giro. She saw it—the trouble he carried, heavy as an anchor—and knew there was nothing she could do.

Her hand lifted in farewell, though her fingers trembled. "Hey! Help him!" she called out, her voice catching in her throat. Then she turned and walked away, her steps quick but uneven, as if each one cost her more effort than the last.

"Help who?! What is she saying?" Raze spun around wildly, his eyes darting from one face to another, searching for some invisible clue. "Who are we supposed to help?!"

But no one answered him. Giro's silence deepened, like a shadow stretching as the sun moved on.

"Say! What is it?!" Rai's voice broke the tension, sharp and impatient. He turned to Giro, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Giro didn't answer right away. Kaizen stood in front of them, towering and silent, the sun catching on his broad shoulders, his chest bare, as if he carried the weight of their journey on his very skin. Giro's eyes darted from one face to the next.

"We don't have time..." Giro started, his voice low, almost hesitant. "I'll say once we start our journey there. If you don't trust me..."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, but the reply came swiftly, a chorus of certainty.

"I trust you," they said, one after another—Rai, Kaizen, and even Raze, who rubbed his nose absentmindedly.

Giro felt the weight lift slightly, but only slightly. There were things he wasn't ready to say, but he knew he wouldn't carry them alone. Not now.

Still, the day had drained them, and it was clear they needed rest. They turned toward the Harbour City, a place that seemed to pulse with life even in the fading light. It wasn't a grand city, but it was full of everything they needed—restaurants spilling light and laughter onto the streets, shops with their wares displayed proudly, the smell of salt and spice in the air.

For the first time in weeks, they let themselves breathe. They wandered into a clothier's shop, its walls lined with rows of fabric in every color imaginable. When they stepped out again, they wore clothes untouched by battle, clothes that fit. Giro ran his hands over his sleeves, marveling at the absence of tears and stains, the simple pleasure of feeling whole, even if only on the outside.

The city hummed around them, alive with the quiet chaos of ordinary life. For now, they were just four travelers, blending into the crowd. But each of them carried something—hope, fear, determination—that the city's noise couldn't drown out.

Rai felt the heat of the tea rise to his upper lip, the steam curling against his nose as he sipped. The four of them stood outside a small tea shop, cups in hand, the air around them thick with the aroma of brewed leaves and roasted spices.

"I need to deal with the scroll," Giro said, his voice low, his eyes fixed on the horizon as if it carried the weight of his thoughts. He took another sip before continuing. "The one that holds the secret of the final stage of the dark veil. I've decided... I'm going to burn it."

Raze snorted, almost choking on his tea. "That's it? You've been all serious for days over something as simple as this? Ha ha ha!"

But Rai shook his head, his gaze sharpening as he studied Giro. "No," he said firmly, "there's more to it. Something about this scroll made him this serious. What is it?"

Kaizen finished his tea in silence, his presence as steady and immovable as a mountain. When he spoke, his voice was calm but firm, like a blade cutting through the noise. "Where is the scroll now?"

Before Giro could answer, the others froze. For a split second, all three stared at Kaizen in disbelief.

He had tilted his head back, pouring the entire contents of his tea cup into his mouth in a single gulp. The scalding liquid must have burned, but Kaizen showed no sign of discomfort. He handed the empty cup to the shopkeeper with a nod, his face unreadable.

Raze blinked. "You're not human," he muttered under his breath.

Kaizen said nothing, his eyes fixed on Giro, waiting for an answer.

"Is your tongue still intact?!" Raze shouted, his voice rising above the clatter of cups in the tea shop.

Kaizen didn't even blink. He turned his gaze to Raze, his expression as calm as ever, as though swallowing molten tea was the most natural thing in the world. "Continue," he said, his voice steady as stone, directing the command at Giro.

Giro hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edges of the map he held. "The scroll is hidden in our old training ground," he began, his voice carrying a faint tremor. "It's the place where Zane and I were taught by our teacher when we were young. That's where we need to go—to destroy the scroll and return." He pointed to a spot on the map. The others leaned in.

Rai furrowed his brow. "It's a forest… hmm?"

"Yes," Giro replied, his voice low, his forehead glistening with beads of sweat that caught the light like tiny pearls. "Of course, I could do it alone. But that forest… it's not just any forest. Everyone who's ever gone in has never come out. I hid the scroll near the edge of that forest, thinking no one would dare look for it there." He looked at them, desperation creeping into his voice. "Please, come with me."

Raze leaned back, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Now you're talking!" he said, as though the gravity of the situation had just clicked into place for him.

Kaizen folded his arms, his stance as solid as an ancient tree. "We'll rent a vehicle," he said, his tone decisive. "And we'll go."

Raze had boasted he was an excellent driver, so they decided against hiring one. Now, as the battered jeep barreled down the road, its doors flapped wildly like the wings of a startled bird. Black smoke poured from under the hood, shrouding their view of the road ahead and forcing Raze to squint as he gripped the steering wheel with unshaken confidence—or perhaps misplaced pride.

Behind him, two passengers lay slumped in the backseat, utterly unconscious. Giro had succumbed the moment Raze turned the ignition, his body slack as though surrendering to the inevitable. Rai, who had made the mistake of looking at Kaizen for reassurance, promptly followed suit, collapsing into a faint at the sight of Kaizen's unchanging, almost serene composure. The jeep surged forward to the forest where the scroll is.


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