[RAY LEON(RAYON KRATER)]
The night had already fallen, draping the scarred land in a deep, solemn stillness.
The aftermath of battle stretched endlessly around us — fallen trees cracked and burned, the earth itself scorched and torn apart, as though nature had shared in our suffering. The scent of char lingered in the air, mingled with damp soil and the fading tang of mana.
And yet, when I lifted my gaze upward… the sky was impossibly clear.
A vast, ink-drenched canvas, where countless stars glittered like crushed gemstones scattered across eternity. Two moons hovered close together — twin silver orbs suspended in the dark — their pale light spilling gently across the ruins, softening what daylight had left in chaos.
Faint beastly roars echoed from the distance, crawling through the night like whispers that didn't wish to be heard. Despite everything, a strange calm washed over me. A peace that didn't belong here — but chose to linger anyway.
Near a smoldering tree trunk, Master was kneeling beside Krent and Kylon, both still unconscious. His hands glowed faintly as healing light threaded through the air, weaving itself into their wounds like strands of dawn. Aur sat close by, tiny and tense, his sharp eyes narrowing with suspicion as he watched Master's movements.
I shifted, pushing myself up from where I had been resting. My body ached — not from injury, but from exhaustion that reached deeper, into the soul. Wrapping my arms loosely around my knees, I watched them in silence.
"What will happen when they wake up and see you healing them?" I asked quietly. My voice nearly blended with the crackle of dying embers.
Master glanced over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm not worried. They won't wake until sunrise. I made sure of that." He flexed his fingers once, letting the last traces of magic fade into the air. "Besides, we've already wasted a day here. We can't afford to lose more. We resume our journey to the dungeon at first light."
I nodded slightly. His words were sharp, but true.
Drawing a little mana into my storage mark, I summoned a blanket and a small, round pillow. They shimmered briefly before materializing in my hands. I spread the blanket over the grass and lay back, the cool ground pressing against me through the thin fabric.
For a while, I just stared upward, lost in the stillness of the sky.
It felt endless… eternal. A world untouched by all the ruin below. Maybe that was what made it beautiful — the way it refused to share in our scars.
"Old man…" I murmured after a long silence. "Isn't the night sky too beautiful?"
Master chuckled softly, leaning back against a stone. His voice was low, filled with that weary wisdom that time leaves behind. "It is," he said. "But the day sky has its beauty too. You just have to look."
I frowned faintly. I could tell from his tone that he wasn't done.
He lifted his eyes to the heavens, his gaze calm, faraway. "The night sky teaches you that even in infinite darkness, there are sparks of light. No matter how vast the blackness… light endures. It reminds you that hope can exist even when everything else fades."
His words sank deep. I turned my head slightly, watching him through the corner of my eye. He wasn't talking to me anymore — not entirely. He was talking to the stars. To memories. To something far older than the both of me.
"But the day sky," he continued, "teaches something different. After every sunrise comes night again. No light lasts forever — but neither does darkness. The cycle never breaks. Each gives birth to the other."
He exhaled, the faint mist of his breath rising into the cold.
"Light and darkness, Ray, aren't enemies. They're partners. They exist because of each other. Without darkness, you wouldn't notice the stars. Without light, you wouldn't know what darkness was. Each gives meaning to the other."
I stared upward again, the words echoing in me like ripples in still water. Somehow… they weren't about the sky anymore. They were about everything — life, battle, loss, victory… and maybe, about me.
Master's chuckle was softer this time, almost fond. "One day, you'll understand. When you've lived long enough, fought long enough, lost enough… you'll see it too. There's darkness beyond light, and light beyond darkness. Always. It's universal."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My throat tightened, and I let my gaze drift among the stars.
'I've already lost enough, old man…' The thought whispered through my mind, bitter and fragile. 'If only you knew…'
So many faces. So many names I didn't dare speak anymore.
Loss wasn't a memory — it was a shadow that walked beside me, quiet and unrelenting.
Aur moved beside me, pulling me from the silence. The master retrieved two blankets from his storage mark, carrying them carefully in his small paws. Without a word, he draped one over Krent and Kylon, then wrapped himself in the other and curled up nearby.
A quiet warmth spread through my chest. Small gestures, simple ones — they always hit deeper than grand words.
Master tilted his head back again, eyes half-lidded, gazing at the night like a man who had seen too many of them.
From beyond the blackened trees, a sound drifted through the air.
Soft. Melodic. Haunting. Not a roar, nor a growl — but something between a hum and a song. It floated across the forest, carrying a strange, ethereal calm.
I sat up slightly, my senses sharpening. "What is that…?"
"Don't worry," Master murmured, his tone lazy, almost drowsy. "That's a flying beast. It won't harm us unless we provoked." A brief pause. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
I smiled faintly, the tension easing from my chest. "Yes," I said softly. "It is."
The melody wove through the night like a lullaby from an ancient world — something older than language, meant only for those awake enough to listen. The stars above shimmered brighter, as though answering the song. Maybe they were listening too.
The warmth of the blanket, the steady glow of the dying fire, the soft rhythm of Aur's breathing beside me — everything melted together until even my thoughts began to fade.
Sleep claimed us all — quietly, like a sigh against the stars.
. . .
When I opened my eyes, dawn had already begun to break.
Aur was curled up beside me, her small body radiating faint warmth. For a moment, I simply watched her — that gentle rise and fall of breath, her soft fur catching the light. She wasn't just a companion. She was… family.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I brushed a stray tuft from her head. The thought whispered again — what if this is all a dream? What if I woke up and found myself back in that cold, empty world, before rebirth, before all this warmth?
But deep down, I knew. This wasn't a dream. This was real. These bonds, this peace — they were mine.
I rose quietly, stretching the stiffness from my limbs. The forest was alive again — birds calling, wind brushing through leaves that had survived the fire.
Master was already standing beside Krent and Kylon. Both were awake now, calm, as though yesterday's storm had been nothing but a bad dream.
He turned toward me and gave a short nod. "Get ready," he said. "We're heading to the dungeon. We've lingered long enough."
At his voice, Aur stirred and yawned, blinking sleepily before leaping onto my shoulder. Her tail coiled gently around my neck.
'Good morning, Papa.' Her voice brushed softly through my mind.
A smile warmed my face before I could stop it. 'Good morning, little one.'
Even after everything… moments like this made the world feel lighter.
Not long after, with our gear packed and wounds mended, we set off toward the horizon — the path leading to the Destar Range, where the dungeon awaited.
The air felt different there — heavier, older, as though it remembered things even the gods had forgotten.
And as the twin moons faded beneath the rising sun, I couldn't help but wonder… Was this just another journey? Or the beginning of something the heavens themselves were waiting for?