The village rarely received visitors—let alone someone from the capital.
But that morning, as the mist clung low to the ground, a sleek black carriage rolled through the dirt road, its surface unmarred by mud, as if it defied the earth itself.
Children stopped playing. Farmers paused their work. Even the mayor looked puzzled.
From the carriage stepped a young man—not much older than Ji-hyeon. He wore the crest of Astraea's Magic Council, and his robe shimmered with woven enchantments. His hair was silver, eyes sharp like a blade.
> "Name's Kael of House Merides," he announced. "I seek a boy named Ji-hyeon."
Whispers filled the air. The villagers turned to one another, confused.
How could someone like that know about a boy from a poor family?
Ji-hyeon, who had just returned from the forest, watched from a distance. He didn't recognize Kael—but something about him felt… familiar.
As if they had once stood on opposite ends of a battlefield.
Kael's gaze found him almost instantly.
> "There you are," Kael said. "So the rumors were true."
Ji-hyeon narrowed his eyes. "Rumors?"
Kael stepped forward. "The mana around you—it's ancient. Dangerous. Yet... restrained." He paused. "You should've been registered by the Academy long ago. Why weren't you?"
Ji-hyeon said nothing.
The mayor hesitated, then stepped in. "He's just a boy. Grew up with nothing. We have no idea what you're talking about."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. And that is precisely the problem."
He turned to Ji-hyeon again.
> "You're not normal. You feel it, don't you?"
For a moment, the world was quiet.
Then Ji-hyeon spoke, calmly.
> "I'm remembering."
Kael's expression flickered. Just for a second.
> "Then you need to come with me. Before others find you."
Ji-hyeon looked at the villagers—at the only home he'd ever known.
> "Not yet."
Kael didn't argue. He merely nodded.
> "Fine. But the world is moving, Ji-hyeon. You have less time than you think."
As Kael left, disappearing as suddenly as he came, Ji-hyeon stared at the trees once more.
The winds were changing.
And soon, nothing would ever be the same.