The night was too still for peace. Even after leaving the shrine, Kelivin felt the whisper pressing against his mind, each syllable of Maiko's name coiling through his thoughts like smoke that refused to fade.
The village slept, unaware of the tremors that brushed beneath its soil. From the veranda, he watched the mist curling around the mountains—those peaks where the Shinsei Market slumbered unseen. A faint hum carried on the wind, beating in rhythm with the pulse that had shaken the seals.
The sound guided him away from his home, past the training grounds, and toward the ancient cedar fields where shadows grew thicker.
"Maiko," he said under his breath. "You should not still be speaking."
The mountain answered with silence—until the ground split faintly at his feet, releasing a thin beam of twilight.
The Opening
The beam widened into a circle, black and silver spiraling together like water and ink merging. A faint scent of incense and rain drifted upward.
Kelivin hesitated only a moment. "After all these years," he murmured. "You still call to me the same way."
Then he stepped through.
The world folded inward. The wind reversed. For an instant, he felt weightless.
When his vision returned, he stood inside the Shadow Realm—the endless expanse that had once been his battleground, his prison, and hers.
Darkness pulsed gently, not oppressive but almost breathing. Above him were no stars, only floating symbols of shifting light, each representing an old binding seal. They shimmered faintly, their edges cracked.
"Your control fades," came a woman's voice—soft and calm, yet carrying the echo of years.
The Encounter
She appeared half-bound in light, half-lost in darkness. Maiko. Her form drifted at the center of the void, her white robes flowing as if caught in an unseen current. Her hair shimmered like the twin moons reflected on still water.
She smiled faintly. "You came faster than I thought."
Kelivin approached slowly, the void beneath his feet stretching and echoing each step. "You shouldn't exist in this state. The Seal should've dissolved your essence entirely."
"Should have," she said, eyes gleaming. "But the Market anchors me. You tied too much of yourself into it when you sealed me, remember?"
He paused. "That was to save you."
"And to hide the truth," she added softly.
The words made his pulse hitch. "The truth?"
Maiko looked past him, toward the outer edges of the realm where the symbols flickered. "They are awakening. The five elemental hearts. Your sons are pulling them open just by living. Every step of their training shakes the balance a little more."
Kelivin clenched his fists. "They have no knowledge of this. It's mine to bear."
She drifted closer, her form almost tangible now. "And when the world fractures again, will you let them die for a debt they never owed?"
He didn't answer. Only his silence filled the void, heavy with memory.
Fractures of Memory
Images burst around them—ghost‑fragments of their past. The war that brought them together. The sealing ritual that tore them apart. The moment Kelivin drew the Shadow Blade through the convergence circle, binding Maiko to the Unity Seal to stop her from merging with all five elements.
He had saved the realms at the cost of their bond. Or so he told himself.
Now, as he watched her eyes shimmer with residual light, his composure cracked. "I told myself you forgave me," he whispered.
"I did," she said. "Forgiveness does not erase the chain that links us. You sealed part of your own essence with me, Kelivin. That is why I can still speak."
His breath caught. That explained the moments of exhaustion, the phantom voices, the flickering of his own Ryuma—the gradual decay he'd hidden even from Lady Ai. Every surge of his sons' awakening powers tugged on what remained of his spirit bound to Maiko.
The Warning
"The seal beneath Kyomisu has weakened," she continued. "When the next alignment comes, the Market will awaken completely. You cannot contain it alone. You must train them, not to imitate you—but to surpass you."
Kelivin's tone grew sharp. "They are children, Maiko. You ask them to carry balance itself."
"I ask them to live in it," she replied. "The world is starving for harmony, not control."
She reached out her hand. Light and darkness swirled from her palm, forming a hollow shape—the outline of a pendant with five intersecting sigils. "Give this to the first who understands the meaning of strength."
The pendant drifted toward him, merging briefly with his aura before vanishing beneath his robes.
Farewell in the Void
Maiko's figure began to fade. The edges of her light unraveled into glimmering threads.
"The next time we meet," she whispered, "it will not be here. When they hear the Market's call, I will guide them."
He took a step forward, reaching a hand through the dissolving light. It passed through her form like mist.
Her final words lingered as the realm began to collapse around him:
"Do not fear their unity. Fear what happens if they fight it."
Return
The world righted itself in a rush of cold air. Kelivin stood once more in the cedar grove, dawn burning over the valley. The pendant symbol glowed faintly against his chest.
He turned toward the village. Smoke from morning fires curled upward, peaceful and unknowing.
For the first time in years, Kelivin felt true fear—not for his own life, but for how unprepared his sons were for the weight that awaited them.
He breathed deeply and whispered into the breeze,
"Then it begins again."