[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom Outskirts]
[Virelheim Mountain Village]
Exiting the village had been quick, yet the silence that followed was thick.
The wind pressed softly against their backs, even as they left the village's boundary, the faint scent of death and the frostbitten earth lingered.
For a long time, none of them spoke. It was not the comfortable silence nor the thoughtful kind—it was hollow, uncomfortable almost. When they finally crested a ridge overlooking the village, Mikoto turned. From that height, the scattered rooftops looked like broken bones just hanging out.
He could fix it—every broken wall, every collapsed building, everything in ruin. His magic was precise enough, his control meticulous enough. A few minutes, maybe less, and the village could be made whole again.
But his expression didn't soften at the thought.
He knew the truth.
They wouldn't want his help. Not from him. Not after everything that had happened, not from another unknown.
