Chapter Title: Shadows Beneath the Valor Sky
The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, bleeding into the sky like golden ink over parchment. Birds began to stir from their slumber, their gentle chirping a quiet prelude to the world waking once more.
The cart came to a slow halt on a hill that overlooked the sprawling valley below. Stretching far and wide was the Valor Region—a rugged expanse of wind-carved stone, violet grasslands that shimmered under morning light, and ruins half-swallowed by time. Thin wisps of fog clung to the ground like ghosts reluctant to let go.
Kairos jumped down from the cargo bed, his boots crunching softly on the dew-slick earth. He stood still, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the quiet land. Something about it felt... hushed. Like the land itself was holding its breath.
Lysander stepped beside him, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "Smells like silence. The dangerous kind."
Zephyrus dismounted from the front, adjusting the twin sheathed swords across his back. His gaze scanned the terrain—measured, almost clinical. "No birdsong down there. No visible movement. If the reports were right, then the beasts must've made this place their hunting ground."
A long pause settled between them.
Then Zephyrus added, "We set up base near the ruins. We'll scout in teams before making any decisions. Sound good?"
Lysander nodded, then looked to Kairos. "You alright?"
Kairos blinked, breaking from a brief daze. "Yeah... Just thinking."
They began moving toward the edge of the valley. The air grew colder with every step, the wind sharp and thin like it had sliced through distant mountains before finding them.
---
They set up camp near a broken watchtower made of bone-white stone. Time had carved deep grooves into its surface, and ancient glyphs—faintly pulsing with color—lined its foundation. Some were green. Some were red. Others were colors Kairos had no names for.
As they sat near the fire Lysander lit, Zephyrus leaned back, arms folded behind his head.
"You asked me once about my trial, Kai," he said, not looking at him. "I didn't answer. Thought I would now."
Kairos turned toward him, surprised.
Zephyrus exhaled slowly, like dragging words out from a place he'd buried them. "When I turned twelve, I faced the soul trial like Lysander. Only... mine didn't go cleanly."
Lysander glanced over, but said nothing. She knew this story—had heard it through whispered walls when they were younger.
"I stood before the mirror of echoes. Just me, the silence, and... something else. A presence that spoke without speaking." Zephyrus' fingers grazed the hilt of one of his swords. "My soul shattered into four fragments. I watched it happen. Saw the pieces scatter into the void."
Three of his fingers tapped each of the hilts strapped to his back.
"One took form as flame, the second as shadow, the third as weightless steel. They became my swords. Bound to me—but cursed in their own way."
Kairos stared. "And the fourth piece?"
Zephyrus didn't answer immediately. Then, with a half-smile: "Still searching for it."
Lysander picked up from there, her voice soft. "We each carry our burdens, Kai. None of us came through the trial whole."
Kairos looked down at his palms. They still bore faint scars from the coronation ritual. "But I failed. The throne rejected me. Isn't that different?"
"No," Zephyrus said firmly. "The throne's a title. A mirror too. Sometimes it reflects what you're not yet ready to see."
"Failure is just another beginning," Lysander added, reaching over to tap his chest. "What matters is whether your heart breaks open... or just breaks."
The fire cracked, spitting sparks into the sky.
For the first time in days, Kairos felt a weight shift within him—not vanish, but shift. Like something inside him had leaned forward, listening more closely to the world.
He nodded quietly.
---
By sunrise, the fog had thinned into long strands, curling like tendrils around ruined stone pillars. The siblings stood at the edge of the grasslands, gear strapped on, eyes sharp.
From the east, a low growl rolled across the wind.
"Time to hunt," Zephyrus murmured.
Kairos clenched his fists once, then let them go. "Then let's start with answers."
And without another word, the three of them stepped into the wilds of Valor—where beasts roamed, colors bled, and the truth of one's soul was never far behind.