The Starling Gale cut through the smog of Iron reef, leaving the sounds of battle and the sting of loss behind. On the deck, the silence was heavier than any storm. No one spoke. The victory over Vorlag felt hollow, a ghost of a triumph overshadowed by the massive absence of Grak.
Liora was tending to Mara's wound, her movements slow and sad. The painkiller she had administered earlier was wearing off, and Mara winced but didn't make a sound, her eyes fixed on the receding, jagged silhouette of the island.
Kael stood at the railing, cleaning his swords with a quiet, methodical rhythm. But his usual calm was gone, replaced by a rigid tension in his shoulders.
Aarav was sitting alone, staring at the sword in his hands—the one Kael had given him. It felt impossibly heavy. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Grak's final moments, heard his final words.
"Protect… Iron Reef…"
"It wasn't your fault."
Kael's voice startled him. The swordsman had finished his ritual and was now standing beside him.
"I jumped off the ship," Aarav said, his voice low. "If I had just stayed… if I had let him handle it…"
"If you had stayed, Grak would be dead and Vorlag would be alive," Kael stated bluntly. "You made a choice. It was a warrior's choice. He made one too. He chose to buy us time. He chose to die protecting his home. Do not dishonor his sacrifice with your guilt."
"But he's gone," Aarav whispered, the words catching in his throat.
"Yes," Kael said, his voice softening slightly. "He is. And that is the weight of the blade you now carry. Every fight has a cost. Every victory, a price. Today you learned that. It is a lesson that cannot be taught. It can only be lived."
He looked at the Tide Compass, now resting on a nearby crate, its golden light a stark contrast to the gloom on the deck. "The compass is pointing northeast. Towards Verdance."
Aarav looked up. "The living forest-island?"
"Yes. According to the old charts, it's the next stop on the path to Antima," Mara said, joining them. Her arm was now in a clean sling made by Liora. "It's a place of life. Powerful Aether. Maybe we can find some answers there. And some rest."
"We won't find any rest," Kael countered. "Elara let us escape. She knows where we're going. She'll be waiting."
"Then we will be ready for her," Mara shot back, her spirit returning. "She's not the only one who can set a trap."
Suddenly, Aarav felt a familiar warmth in his palm. The BladeSigil was glowing faintly. But this time, it wasn't a reaction to danger. It was a reaction to the sword he was holding. He felt a connection, a hum of energy flowing between him and the steel.
He focused on that feeling.
He closed his eyes. He didn't see the structure of the ship or the flow of the wind.
He saw something else.
He saw a memory. Not his own.
*...a young Kael, no older than Aarav, standing before a stern-faced man. He is holding the same sword. The man speaks, his voice full of authority. "This blade is not just steel. It is a legacy. It will test you, and it will break you. Only when you are reforged will you be worthy of it."...
Aarav's eyes snapped open. He looked at Kael, stunned. "Your father… he gave you this sword."
Kael froze. His mask of indifference finally cracked, replaced by a look of pure shock. "How… how did you know that?"
"I… I don't know," Aarav stammered, looking at the sword. "I just… saw it. When I held the sword. I felt it."
Liora came over, her eyes wide. "The Sigil… it's evolving. The Blade Sigil allows you to feel the structure of things. But this sword… it's been with **Kael** his whole life. It holds his Aether, his memories. You're not just feeling the steel, Aarav. **You're feeling the story within it**."
This was a new power. A strange, intimate, and frightening power.
Kael stared at Aarav, his mind reeling. For years, he had been the master of his blade, the silent warrior. Now, this boy from another world could read its soul.
"This changes things," Mara said, her strategic mind already working. "If you can feel the story in a sword, can you feel it in other things? In a place? In a person?"
"I don't know," Aarav said, feeling overwhelmed.
"Then we will find out," Mara declared. "Elara can read our fears. But maybe… maybe you can read her secrets."
A new path had opened. A new weapon had been revealed. Grak's death had been a terrible price, but it had unlocked something new in Aarav. The weight of the blade was not just a burden of guilt; it was a key.
As the StarlingGale flew towards the vibrant green stormfront that marked the border of Verdance, Aarav held the sword. He wasn't just carrying a weapon anymore.
He was carrying a legacy. And he was beginning to understand that to defeat a monster who feasted on fear, he would have to become a warrior who wielded memory itself.