Kyro gazed intently ahead, his heart racing as he recognized the figure standing outside the cave. To his astonishment, it was Tharic, spear in hand, a determined look etched on his face.
"Tsk, it's the village boy," Yusef sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Yusef's gaze shifted to Kyro, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"But to let go of the weak boy…we would be fools."
"Everyone, get him!" Yusef bellowed, drawing a short sword and charging at Tharic with reckless abandon.
Tharic, quick on his feet, darted to the right, plunging his spear into Yusef's side before turning his attention to the robed man who was ensnaring Kyro with vines. The robed figure attempted to conjure a long sword from the very vines that bound Kyro, but Tharic kicked him hard in the chest, sending him crashing against the wall. The other three men stood frozen, paralyzed by fear of Tharic's prowess. Meanwhile, Kyro finally broke free from the vines that had held him captive.
Tharic seized Kyro's arm, urgency lacing his voice. "We need to get out of here, now!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Kyro grabbed his axe, and together they sprinted from the cave, adrenaline surging through their veins.
"What are you three doing? Go after them!" Yusef wheezed, desperation creeping into his tone.
The other three men scrambled to pursue, but by the time they moved, Kyro and Tharic had vanished from sight.
As they ran, Kyro turned to Tharic, gratitude spilling from his lips. "Thank you for saving me back there."
Tharic remained silent, his focus unwavering as they fled further from the cave.
Eventually, Tharic halted, panting heavily, and Kyro followed suit, both of them catching their breath.
Once he regained his composure, Tharic fixed Kyro with a fierce gaze. "Fool! Do you not understand the absolute evil that lurks in this world? You thought you could trust strangers you've never met?"
"But—" Kyro began, but Tharic cut him off.
"But what? You believed you could convince them to stop? For them to trust a stranger who can't even remember his past to save them from impending doom?"
Kyro fell silent, the weight of Tharic's words pressing down on him. In that moment, he realized the truth: Tharic was right. Perhaps he had been naive in his thinking.
"Now you see why I laughed earlier. I've witnessed such unimaginable pain and suffering, something you have never seen with your own two eyes. Changing it is nothing but a fantasy. It will never happen. You nearly got yourself killed with your foolishness."
Once again, Kyro stood mute, unable to retort.
"You're lucky I woke up when I heard that strange man outside. But enough of this. Let's head back," Tharic said, striding ahead of Kyro.
When they returned, the sun was breaking through the clouds, birds chirped merrily, and a gentle morning breeze danced through the air.
As they approached Oliver's house, Kyro found himself lost in thought, contemplating Tharic's words and the path he should take. They entered to find Hunter and Oliver seated at the table, sharing a cup of coffee.
"Ah, there you are, Kyro," Hunter greeted with a warm smile.
"Thank you, son," Oliver added, his eyes twinkling with relief.
Tharic shrugged, leaning his bloody spear against the wall before sitting beside his father.
Hunter's gaze fell on the bloodstain near Kyro's left hip. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
Kyro, momentarily distracted by the injury, shook his head. "Oh, this? I'm fine, just a little scratch. I should be alright," he replied, glancing down at the wound he got from the stab.
"Here, sit down," Hunter urged, gesturing to an empty chair as he brought out a roll of bandages. "I want to hear everything that happened."
Kyro complied, recounting the harrowing incident to Hunter and Oliver.
"I see," Hunter said, relief washing over him. "I'm just glad you're safe."
"I hope you now see a greater perspective on our country," Oliver remarked, sipping his coffee.
"While you may have ambitious goals, not everyone shares your fervor. And given your memory loss, you can't truly grasp the pain of the people here or the length of their suffering," Oliver continued, his tone serious.
"So give up on your foolish thoughts and return to a quiet life," Tharic interjected harshly.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again: this country is beyond saving. If there's anyone you want to save, save yourself."
With that, Tharic stood abruptly, grabbed his spear, and stormed outside.
Oliver turned to Kyro and Hunter, an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry about that. Though he sounds harsh, Tharic comes from a good place. The loss of his mother has deeply affected him. He speaks this way to protect others from suffering the same fate."
"No need to apologize; it's quite alright," Hunter replied, his voice steady.
Kyro spoke up, "If it's alright, I'd like to hear about what happened to her. It might help me understand him better."
Oliver looked surprised by Kyro's kindness, despite Tharic's earlier harshness. Nevertheless, he nodded, willing to share. "Very well, I shall tell you."
"A few weeks ago, my wife, Marcel, went to the farmers market to buy some vegetables. Tharic usually accompanied her for safety, but that day, he was sharpening his spear. With the sun setting, she couldn't wait for him any longer," Oliver explained, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"At that time, I was out of town gathering supplies to sell, so I couldn't go with her. Tharic told me that when she arrived, she was kidnapped by a group of aether hunters and taken into the forest leading north."
"When Tharic returned and didn't see her, he quickly followed the trail left by the hunters. When he reached the scene, he found two aether hunters, one of which who was holding her by her hair. He tried to fight back and free Marcel, but ultimately, the hunters did enough damage to her that by the time they fled the scene, she didn't have long to live."
Oliver paused, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes clouded with pain. "It was a traumatic experience for him, losing his mother in such a horrific manner. He was already pessimistic about the future of our country, but that event only deepened his despair. He pleads with me daily to leave, but I cannot abandon my business here. So he remains, helping the village by driving away the aether hunters as best he can."
"Wow… I'm truly sorry to hear about your wife and what Tharic had to endure. That's truly heartbreaking," Hunter said, his expression somber.
For Kyro, however, the earlier sting of Tharic's words began to fade. He started to understand that Tharic's harshness stemmed from a place of fear, a desire to protect others from the fate that befell his mother. Tharic didn't want anyone else to suffer as he had.
"Thank you, my dear friend," Oliver said, his voice filled with gratitude.
Oliver turned to Kyro, curious if he felt satisfied. "Hopefully, that helped you understand Tharic better."
Kyro nodded, "It does. Thank you so much… and I'm sorry for what happened."
"Speaking of which, Kyro, how does your head feel? You fell hard yesterday after what I assume was a massive headache," Hunter asked, concern lacing his voice.
Kyro contemplated sharing his dream with them but hesitated, deciding it was unnecessary to burden them with his worries. It was likely just a meaningless dream, nothing more.
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine now," Kyro replied simply.
"I'm glad to hear. We were traveling for the entire day, so the exhaustion perhaps makes complete sense," Oliver acknowledged.
Hunter chimed in, "Now that you have an aetherite crystal, are you ready to start training again? More specifically, I want to make sure of what happened last night with aether flow was just a fluke."
"Uh, in a bit. I'd like to rest for a while before we begin," Kyro said slowly, rising from his seat.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the room he had slept in earlier. Oliver nodded, and Kyro walked in, closing the door behind him to find some solitude.
Kyro placed his axe aside and sat on the bed. Though rest was needed, he craved time alone to process the recent events. More importantly, he began to feel empathy for Tharic and the tragedy that had befallen him and his mother. He pondered his own path and what he should do next.
"Should I really be doing this? Am I being a fool?"
"There are probably hundreds more like Tharic who think similarly. How could I convince them to trust me, even if I wanted to save them? I have no idea how dire the situation truly is, as Tharic said. Perhaps it's best for a stranger like me to leave this alone…"
Kyro recalled Hunter's words during training,
_______
"But when the going got tough, you ran away. What will happen when the same adversity confronts you in the outside world?"
_______
"It's true this will be tough. But I'm going to keep trying, just like I did in training, to improve every day. Maybe then people will see that it's possible…and then I can get an answer to the feelings I felt all the way back."
Kyro thought once more about the dream he had,
"Besides, if this is indeed a lost memory I recovered through my adventures… then by following this path, I might remember the rest of my past."
Realizing this could be a genuine possibility, Kyro smiled, slamming his hands together in determination to continue his long journey.
He rose from the bed, grabbed his axe, and stepped outside the room with renewed purpose.
"Done so soon, Kyro? I thought you were going to rest a bit longer," Hunter chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.
"I'm ready now," Kyro grinned, rushing toward the front doorway.
"Let's go! I'm ready to train!"
Hunter stood, grabbing his bow from the doorway.
"Something changed within him so fast."
"I'm coming as fast as I can, future hero," he teased.
"Stay safe, both of you! We don't want any more trouble today," Oliver called out, waving goodbye as both set out to train.
They both went into the forest, ready to train like before.
"Earlier, you said Tharic used Aether to protect you and the others," Hunter began, his voice steady. "You saw the hunters wielding power—light, force, fire. That was all Aether at work. They were channeling it into Techniques, even if you didn't recognize them."
He paused, then added with a faint smile, "I was doing the same during our fight—just subtly enough that someone untrained wouldn't notice."
He turned his gaze toward the fire, then back to Kyro.
"Aether isn't just energy. It's existence. It forms the foundation of everything—land, sky, living beings… even our very selves."
Hunter slowly raised a hand, letting a gentle glow build in his palm.
"But Aether alone isn't what gives us power. It's how our soul connects to it. That connection is everything."
He turned slightly, flame flickering between his fingers.
"The soul draws in raw Aether—wild, untamed—and sends it to the heart. The heart gives it rhythm. With each beat, Aether flows into your blood, refined and distributed through your body. Muscles, nerves, breath—it all becomes a channel."
The flame pulsed once, then vanished.
"That flow—soul to heart to blood to action—is what lets us shape Aether. If any part of that system breaks, the energy becomes unstable, deadly, or even worse… signals our death."
Kyro listened intently.
"From that soul-Aether bond, we develop what are called Techniques—combat abilities born from the essence of our own soul. No two are exactly alike. They're personal. Instinctive. They grow with us. Reflect us."
Hunter extended his hand again, conjuring a flickering flame.
"My Aethereal Art is fire," he said.
Then, focusing his palm toward Kyro—
Fire Technique: Embershield.
A swirl of gentle flame erupted around Kyro, encasing him in a radiant barrier. But it wasn't harsh or hot—it was warm, like a sunrise after a long winter. His aches softened, his injuries faded. Calm returned to his breath.
Kyro blinked in awe. "That's… incredible."
Then he noticed the gem around Hunter's neck. "And that? What is that crystal?"
Hunter unclasped the orange gem and held it out, its glow reflecting in his eyes.
"This," he said, "is a Soul Crystal."
Kyro leaned closer. "A Soul Crystal…?"
Hunter nodded solemnly. "These don't appear just because someone is strong. They're rare—only formed when someone forges a deep, spiritual bond with their soul. When that happens, the soul unlocks its ancestral memory—a trace of what came before."
He held the crystal between his fingers. "When that memory awakens, so does something extraordinary: Soul Techniques."
Kyro's brows furrowed. "Soul Techniques… so they're not like normal Techniques?"
"No," Hunter said. "They're far more powerful. These are ancient abilities—etched into the soul through countless reincarnations. Passed down from heroes, warriors, legends… each one carrying immense power and history."
He looked Kyro in the eye.
"You don't create a Soul Technique. You inherit it. And if it awakens, it means your soul was once something… much greater."
He lowered the crystal. "But there's a reason they're so rare. The bond required is deeper than most ever achieve. And even then, Soul Techniques burn through Aether fast. They can leave you exhausted… or worse."
He chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I'm rambling. Hopefully that helped clear things up."
Kyro nodded slowly. "Yeah… it actually does."
Hunter smiled. "Good. Now—about your own Aether. Yesterday, just before you collapsed, you were beginning to feel it, right?"
Kyro nodded.
"I want you to try again. Close your eyes. Focus on your breath. Feel the Aether—around you, within you. Once you sense its rhythm, your Aethereal Art will start to emerge… and from there, your Techniques will follow."
Kyro obeyed, closing his eyes. Silence.
Then—
A flicker. A beat. A wave.
A cold aether surged into him.
His eyes snapped open. His veins lit up with energy. He focused on his hand—but it spiraled out of control.
Sweat dripped from his brow. His muscles spasmed. His fingers twitched violently.
Then it hit him—
A flash. A vision.
A town in ruins. Screams swallowed by fire. Shadows soaked in hatred.
Destruction. Malice. Death.
And at the center of it all… something familiar. Something wrong.
"What about the people you said you save? Would you turn your back on us? After all we did to support you guys?!" a voice yelled from afar.
"Disgusting piece of shits!" another screamed
"My children, my babies!" someone else shouted
Kyro then looked down at his hand to then suddenly see blood dripping from it, his hand shaking more uncontrollable than before.
"What...what is going on, I don't understand…"
Hunter, from the outside looking in, immediately got concerned seeing Kyro tremble and fall to his knees.
"Kyro!" he shouted.
Kyro grabbed his head with both hands and started to scream uncontrollably from pain, anger, and sadness. Aether erupted from him and shot in the sky, as he could barely control its flow.
"Shit, this is really bad!"
Hunter quickly charged towards Kyro and encased his right hand in flames before flicking his forehead, knocking him unconscious. The cold feeling aether as well dissipated from Kyro.
Hunter let out a sigh of relief. He then looked over at Kyro, who laid on the ground wondering, "What was that all about? I've never seen something like this before…"
"Yo!" said a familiar voice from afar, interrupting Hunter's thoughts.
Hunter looked up to see Oliver standing over him carrying a huge backpack full of merchandise goods.
"What's going on over here? I noticed a surge of aether from this area," asked Oliver.
Hunter pointed at Kyro, "To be honest, I am not sure myself. I've honestly never seen anything like it either. You have to ask him when he wakes up."
"I see. Well, I hope he's alright," said Oliver, scratching his chin.
"Anyways there was also another reason why I came over here. You mind though if we sit down? There's a personal question I wanted to ask," Oliver said, in a more serious tone.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, "Hmm? About what?"
Oliver looked over at Kyro, "It has to do with him."