Lane sipped his tea, savoring the slightly sweet aroma that the warmth left on his tongue, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The scent and smoothness of the tea were so familiar, so full of peace, that his mind drifted for an instant to older days, when he would sit with old Vaen and drink tea together. Back then, the wind blew softer, the world felt smaller and safer.
He murmured to himself:
"The tea is really good… It reminded me of the days I drank tea with my master. Those were nice days… calm… full of peace…"
He drank the last sip and placed the cup on the table. He didn't get up; he watched the village from where he sat. The villagers were carrying out the orders given to them with absolute precision, not showing even the slightest negligence. As Lane observed them, the weight on his shoulders seemed to grow heavier. But this weight did not scare him; instead, it sharpened the plans forming in his mind.
A deep thought echoed silently within him:
"This place could become my starting point… I can develop this village into both a spy network and a trade center. Its location, its secrecy, the underground cave… everything is perfect. Yes… this place is truly worth raising."
The underground cave, its position between the kingdom and the Solarin Empire's buffer zone, and the quiet remoteness of the village offered Lane an unmatched advantage. An advantage most people wouldn't even notice—but Lane had. A faint smile settled on his face.
"This will be the central hub of the spy network…" he continued inwardly. "At the same time, it will develop economically, looking poor from the outside but growing rich from within. It will reach a point where… it can even compete with empires. In both trade and military… yes… this is going to be very good. Everything will work like clockwork."
These thoughts had crystallized into a clear and precise strategy in Lane's mind. Years later, when he looked back, it would be understood that this moment had been a turning point for him. He slowly stood up, and just then, one of the villagers approached him.
"Have you finished your tea, sir?" the villager asked respectfully.
Lane nodded with a faint smile. "Yes, I have. Thank you for the tea. It truly tasted wonderful. I'm curious… where did you learn to prepare tea like this? The slight herbal aroma inside felt familiar…"
The villager seemed surprised that Lane understood tea so well.
"Sir, it's clear you know tea. Most people who come here just drink it because it's refreshing; they don't even care about the taste. But for someone like you—only ten years old—to notice such a detail… that's something to admire. I didn't make this tea; my master did. He's downstairs. If you wish, I can take you to meet him."
Lane smiled. "Of course. I really want to know whose hands prepared this tea. Honestly, it resembles someone I know."
He followed the villager down the stairs. In the kitchen below, the steam of hot water and the fresh scent of tea filled the air. The tea master, with his back turned, was working with a large kettle, performing the tea-making ritual with the finesse of an artist.
His apprentice called out:
"Master! Someone wants to see you!"
The tea master paused his stirring motion, slightly furrowing his brows.
"Who is looking for me?"
Lane stepped forward. "Me. I wanted to see you. May I know your name?"
The tea master was taken aback when he saw Lane. A white-haired, tall-for-his-age child standing before him was not a sight he expected. His eyes narrowed slightly, an expression of caution appearing on his face.
"What brings you here, child?" he asked.
"These white hair… this special appearance… they exist only in one family. Are you… from the Skydrane bloodline?"
Lane couldn't respond for a few seconds. How had this man recognized him so quickly? He thought:
This man definitely has a royal background… otherwise, he wouldn't identify me this fast.
Finally, he spoke openly:
"Yes. I am the young lord of the Skydrane dynasty. My name is Lane… Lane Skydrane. The reason I came to see you is the taste of your tea. It felt very familiar. It resembled my master Vaen's tea."
At these words, the tea master's face suddenly turned pale. The cup in his hand trembled and shattered on the floor. His eyes filled with tears; his breath quickened.
"You… you're his student?" he said with a trembling voice.
"I searched for him… for years…"
Lane was surprised but remained silent.
The old man stepped forward and placed his hands on Lane's shoulders, his head lowering as he began to cry.
Lane thought:
Why is this man so emotional? My master isn't even that far… walk four or five days and you're right next to him.
Lane gently lifted the old man's head and spoke softly. He then told him about his time with Vaen, their days together, and that his master was still alive, living in the forest.
The old man took a deep breath, his eyes shining faintly.
"Child… my name is Morris. I was once a royal advisor. Vaen and I were very close friends. I used to make tea for him, and we would spend long nights together. But then the wars began. Demonic creatures appeared. He had to go to the front lines, and we were separated. When the war ended, he came to me one night. There was a strange happiness on his face, but I didn't understand why. He only told me this:
'Brother, I am setting out on a new journey now. Farewell.'
His words hit me hard. I spoke harshly to him that day. Since then, I've carried that wound inside me…"
Lane smiled lightly. "If you want, I can let you talk to my master."
Morris' eyes widened. "Can you really do that?"
Lane took out the communication device his master had given him. He shook it gently and activated it. For a few seconds, static crackled. Then a familiar old voice:
"Child… I can hear you. How are you? How is your journey going?"
The moment Morris heard that voice, his legs almost gave out. Tears streamed down his face.
Lane spoke:
"Master, I'm fine. There is someone here who wants to talk to you."
After a brief pause, Vaen's voice came:
"And who might that be?"
Lane handed the device to Morris.
Morris spoke in a trembling voice:
"Vaen… it's me… Morris. Your wine-drinking friend. I want to apologize. I spoke harshly to you that day. I've carried that burden for years…"
There was silence for about a minute. Then Vaen's softened voice came:
"Morris… it really is you. Hearing your voice is good. Has it been 20 years… 25… I don't remember, but hearing you feels good."
Lane quietly stood up.
"You two talk. I'll be outside."
He stepped out and met the apprentice.
The apprentice asked nervously:
"Sir… should I not disturb the master?"
Lane nodded. "Definitely do not disturb him. These moments… are valuable for them."
He stepped outside. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair. He looked at the sky.
"Longing…" he whispered to himself. "A strange feeling. The absence of someone seeps into you. Two friends separated for years… a child torn away from his father… a mother taken from her child… It's all a face of longing. But attachment… is it really necessary? Can a person live without attachment?"
He murmured to himself:
"I guess… sometimes I miss my family too."
He wandered around the village for an hour. He noticed what was happening in the square, the order in the streets, and that the church soldiers had begun withdrawing.
"The plan worked…" he said to himself. "Now it's time to attack."
As the sun set, the sky turned orange. The village looked like a burning painting.
Lane returned to Morris' house. The apprentice saw him and said:
"Master has finished. He is waiting for you."
Lane knocked on the door.
"Come," Morris' voice said.
Lane entered. Morris was sitting by the window, drinking tea.
"Child," he said. "Isn't the view outside beautiful?"
Lane smiled. "Yes. Very beautiful."
Morris nodded.
"Do you know why I make tea here? Why I didn't stay a royal advisor?"
Lane waited silently.
Morris gazed at the window as he spoke:
"The reason is that view. This village is very strategic and yet hidden. When I first came, its air, its wind, its silence… it gave me peace. So I left the palace. I decided to make tea here. This place healed me."
Lane thought:
This man… he found peace. Something everyone looks for.
Then he smiled.
"Your tea was really good. Would you make tea for me in the future as well?"
Morris laughed. "So you've learned the taste from that old fool Vaen, huh?"
Lane: "Yes. It was refreshing and peaceful."
Morris placed a cup of tea on the table.
"Sit. Tell me what you've experienced. Your master told me a little, but I want to hear it from you. How did you get here? What did you go through?"
Lane sat. He took a deep breath and began explaining. His memories with Vaen, the fall of the kingdom, his escape, the underground vault, what happened in the village…
Morris was shocked by everything he heard. His fists clenched.
"So they attacked the Skydrane Kingdom… I told those fools hundreds of times! Not to attack! But those idiots didn't listen!"
Then Lane told Morris about his plans: the development of the village, the trade network, the spy system, the military structure…
Morris looked at him in astonishment.
"Child… Vaen said you were a genius, but… are you really ten? I thought I was speaking to someone who lived for decades."
Lane scratched his head. "Actually, I'm nine. I'll turn ten next month."
Morris laughed. "Your plan is excellent. It's doable."
Lane immediately spoke:
"Someone must manage the village while I'm gone. Please take this role."
Morris refused at first. But Lane insisted.
Finally, Morris sighed. "Alright… I accept. But on one condition."
Lane straightened his back.
"You will never abandon this village."
Lane didn't hesitate.
"I promise."
Inside, he thought:
My plans are in motion now. I will never abandon this village.