The remaining weeks passed in rare peace.
Kael used the time wisely—training, studying, helping the villagers of Wrenvale, and pushing the limits of what he could teleport. Every now and then, he returned to the memory of the shadow beast horde, quietly improving strategies and imagining how he might do better next time.
He almost forgot the trader was supposed to arrive.
Until the horns blew one bright morning, three weeks later than expected.
A covered wagon pulled into the village square, flanked by two armed guards and drawn by large, stocky beasts with curling tusks. The driver was a short, grizzled man with white whiskers and a booming laugh.
"Balen, you old mossback!" he shouted, hopping down with more energy than a man his age should've had. "Still alive and ugly, I see!"
Balen grinned. "And you're still late, Erion."
The two men clasped hands like brothers.
Kael watched quietly from the side of the square as a young girl, maybe sixteen, stepped down from the wagon behind Erion. She wore travel leathers and carried a staff that seemed too tall for her, but what struck Kael first was her striking beauty—deep blue eyes framed by long lashes, her chestnut-brown hair tied back in a loose braid that swayed as she walked. Her skin had a sun-kissed glow from travel, and there was a quiet confidence in the way she moved, poised and elegant even after a long journey.
Kael found himself staring, just a second too long.
Mira met his eyes and quickly looked away, a soft blush rising to her cheeks.
Embarrassed, Kael cleared his throat and looked down at his boots.
It hit him then—he didn't know what he looked like. Not anymore. He hadn't seen a mirror since arriving in this world. Not a reflection, not even a polished surface.
Did he look the same as he did before? Did his new body carry some resemblance to the boy who once lay dying in a hospital bed?
He didn't know.
"This here's Mira," Erion said proudly, patting her on the shoulder. "My granddaughter. Took her on the road this time so she can see the real world before burying herself in books."
Mira gave a polite nod, still avoiding Kael's eyes.
"She's got two skills," Erion added. "One of them is Lightweaving, high rank. She's already at Beginner understanding. The other's Minor Creation, low rank, still Novice—but it'll come along."
Kael nodded, masking his thoughts.
By now, he'd learned that having two skills wasn't unusual—almost two-thirds of Wrenvale's villagers had at least two, though most were tied to agriculture, construction, or domestic tasks. Combat-capable skills were rare and usually kept quiet, especially in smaller communities.
Still, Lightweaving was a serious ability, and Mira carried herself like someone who knew it.
"She's hoping to enroll in the magic academy soon," Erion continued, puffing out his chest. "Not enrolled yet, but we're getting everything ready."
Balen crossed his arms, glancing from Erion to Mira, then over at Kael.
"You should consider going too," he said.
Kael blinked. "What?"
"You've got a strong base," Balen said. "Raw talent's not enough forever. If you want to grow, faster than you can out here, a place like that would challenge you in ways you haven't even imagined."
Kael turned the idea over in his mind.
A city. An academy. Teachers. Libraries.
More magic.
It was tempting.
But also unfamiliar. And risky.
For now, he watched Mira as she helped Erion unload the wagon—her light magic flaring gently around her hands like soft-glowing silk.
So this was what the wider world looked like.
And it was getting closer.