The sun rose higher, but the chill did not fade.
Aurelion walked through the empty village again, his footsteps loud in the stillness. The wyvern's presence lingered at the edge of his senses—a weight, a pressure, a promise. He could feel it even now, miles away, watching from somewhere beyond the horizon.
It knows where I am, he thought. It will always know.
He stopped at the village well. The bucket was still full. The rope was still tied. He splashed water on his face, washing away the dust and blood.
His reflection stared back at him. Pale. Tired. Haunted.
You've faced worse, he told himself.
Have you?
He left the village behind and walked west.
The journey back took two days.
He avoided the main roads, sticking to forests and ridges, keeping his head down. The wyvern did not attack again—but he felt it there, a constant pressure at the edge of his consciousness, a thread connecting them.
The shard, he thought. It marked me.
He touched his chest. The scar from Zarveth's spear was warm, but there was something else now—a new heat, deeper, older. The shard's warmth had seeped into him when he touched it.
I'm carrying a piece of the gate, he realized. And the wyvern is the gate's guardian.
It will hunt me until I return what I took.
Or until it kills me.
He reached the valley at dusk on the second day.
The walls were higher than when he had left. More watchtowers. More guards. The government's invitation had brought not just promises, but also soldiers—a permanent garrison to protect the settlement and its famous inhabitants.
Ami was waiting at the gate.
She didn't say anything. She just looked at him—at his torn coat, his bruised face, his empty hands—and her expression shifted from relief to fear to anger in the space of a heartbeat.
"You're late," she said.
"I took the scenic route."
"You're hurt."
"I've been worse."
She stepped forward, close enough to touch. "Your sword?"
"Gone."
"Again?"
"It's a long story."
She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the communal hall. "Then start talking."
The hall was crowded.
Word of his return had spread. Corrin, Kael, Thalia, the general, and a dozen others filled the benches, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. Lina sat in the corner, her too-old eyes fixed on Aurelion.
Ami pushed him to the front of the room. "Tell them."
Aurelion looked at the faces. At the people who had followed him, trusted him, survived with him.
He told them everything.
The empty village. The temple. The carvings. The shard. The gate. The wyvern.
He did not mention his past life. He did not need to. The story was terrible enough without it.
When he finished, the room was silent.
The general spoke first. "A wyvern. You're sure?"
"I've seen it. Felt it. It's real."
"And it's connected to this gate?"
"The shard was a piece of the gate. The wyvern was its guardian. When I touched the shard, the seal broke. The wyvern woke."
"Can it be killed?"
Aurelion thought about the creature's size, its speed, its power. The void in its jaws. The way it had torn through the temple like paper.
"I don't know."
Thalia leaned forward. "Where is it now?"
"Somewhere east. Watching. Waiting."
"For what?"
Aurelion met her eyes. "For me to lead it to more."
The general stood. "Then we need to get you out of here. The government's offer—Central City. It's fortified. Walled. Hundreds of hunters. If the wyvern attacks there, it can be contained."
"And everyone else?" Aurelion asked. "The valley?"
"The valley can be evacuated. We have the resources now. The government will guarantee housing for every man, woman, and child in this settlement."
Aurelion looked at the faces around him. Corrin. Kael. Lina. The refugees who had built a new life in the shadow of the mountains.
"Then that's what we do," he said. "Everyone goes to the city."
Ami's head snapped toward him. "Everyone?"
"Everyone."
"Even you?"
He was silent for a moment. Then: "I'll join later."
The room erupted.
Corrin stood. "You're not staying here alone."
"I'm not alone. The wyvern will find me wherever I go. If I go to the city, I lead it straight into millions of people."
"Then we stay with you," Kael said.
"No. The government's offer is for everyone. That's what's best for the valley."
"What's best for the valley is keeping you alive," Ami said. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise.
"Ami—"
"I'm not asking." She crossed her arms. "I'm staying. End of discussion."
The room went silent.
Aurelion looked at her. At the fire in her eyes. At the set of her jaw.
He had seen that look before. In the throne room, when she had stood between him and the Demon King's claws. In the tournament, when she had refused to fall. In Lancet, when she had dragged him from the ruins.
"Fine," he said.
"Fine?"
"You're staying. So is Corrin. So is Kael." He turned to the general. "Everyone else goes to the city. Tonight."
The general nodded. "I'll make the arrangements."
The evacuation was chaos.
But organized chaos. Families packed their belongings. Supplies were loaded onto transports. The government's soldiers helped herd the refugees toward the convoy.
Aurelion stood at the gate, watching them go.
Lina was the last.
She walked up to him, her too-old eyes fixed on his face.
"You're scared," she said.
"I'm cautious."
"Same thing." She hugged him—quick, fierce, unexpected. "Come back."
"I will."
She joined the convoy. The gates closed behind her.
The valley was empty.
Not silent—the wind still blew, the stream still burbled, the trees still rustled. But the life was gone. The cabins were dark. The paths were bare.
Aurelion, Ami, Corrin, and Kael stood in the center of the settlement, looking at the homes they had built.
"Now what?" Corrin asked.
"Now we wait," Aurelion said.
"For the wyvern?"
"For whatever comes next."
That night, they sat in the communal hall.
A fire crackled in the hearth. Aurelion had found an old sword in the armory—nothing special, just steel and edge, but enough.
Corrin sharpened his spear. Kael cleaned his pistols. Ami sat beside Aurelion, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"You should sleep," she said.
"I should train."
"You should sleep."
He looked at her. "You're not sleeping either."
"Someone has to watch your back."
"Corrin can watch my back."
"Corrin is sharpening his spear. Kael is cleaning his guns. I'm here."
They sat in silence, watching the fire.
"Do you think the wyvern will come tonight?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"Do you think we can kill it?"
He thought about the creature's size, its speed, its hunger. The void in its jaws. The way it had torn through the temple.
"Maybe."
"That's not very reassuring."
"It's the best I can do."
The wyvern came at midnight.
Not from the east—from the sky. It descended through the clouds like a falling star, its wings blotting out the moon, its burning eyes lighting the valley.
Aurelion was on his feet before it landed.
Ami was beside him. Corrin and Kael flanked them.
The wyvern touched down in the center of the settlement, crushing a cabin beneath its weight. Its tail lashed, sending debris flying. Its head lowered, its burning eyes fixed on Aurelion.
"You sent them away," it said, its voice pressing against his mind. "Clever. But pointless. They are not my target."
"I know."
"You are."
Aurelion raised his borrowed blade. "Then come and get me."