The morning sun filtered through the curtains.
For the first time in six months, Riven woke without pain.
No nightmares.
No screaming.
No visions of burning villages.
No memories of Aurelion's fist crushing him into the earth.
Just silence.
Peace.
For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling.
Listening.
The distant sounds of life echoed through the estate.
Servants moving through hallways.
Birds outside the window.
The soft rustling of leaves in the wind.
Life.
Normal life.
Something he hadn't experienced in a very long time.
Slowly, Riven sat up.
His muscles felt different.
Lighter.
Stronger.
The mutation inside his core had healed his body completely, but the sensation remained strange.
Like he wasn't entirely accustomed to himself anymore.
His gaze drifted toward a nearby mirror.
And immediately he frowned.
"...Absolutely not."
His hair had grown far too long during his coma.
The dark strands reached past his shoulders.
Messy.
Unruly.
Wild.
He looked less like a warrior and more like someone who had spent six months unconscious.
Which, admittedly, he had.
A short while later
The long hair was gone.
Riven stood before the mirror once more.
Much better.
The dark hair now stopped just above his ears.
Clean.
Short.
Practical.
The faint stubble that had appeared during his coma was gone as well.
The face staring back looked older than before the war.
Sharper.
More mature.
Yet still unmistakably him.
For the first time since waking.
Riven almost recognized himself.
Almost.
Because behind those silver eyes now existed things that hadn't been there before.
Pain.
Experience.
Loss.
And something deeper.
Something older.
The Dark Shadow remained silent.
But he could feel it.
Watching.
Waiting.
Learning.
Riven looked away from the mirror.
"One problem at a time."
The estate felt alive.
As he walked through its halls, servants immediately straightened.
Some bowed.
Others smiled.
A few stared.
Many of them hadn't seen him awake until now.
Word had spread quickly.
The Hero of the Blood Moon had returned.
Riven still wasn't comfortable with that title.
He doubted he ever would be.
Eventually he stepped outside.
The morning air felt refreshing.
Cool winds swept across the estate grounds.
Workers moved between buildings.
Guards patrolled the walls.
Everything appeared normal.
Yet he quickly realized something.
People kept looking at him.
Not out of fear.
Not out of suspicion.
Something else.
Respect.
The realization felt strange.
Before the war, many people had been cautious around him.
Some feared him.
Others distrusted him.
Many simply didn't know what to make of him.
Now
That uncertainty was gone.
They looked at him differently.
As though he belonged.
As though he had earned his place.
The feeling unsettled him more than hostility ever had.
Eventually his wandering carried him toward the stables.
The familiar scent of hay and horses greeted him immediately.
And standing near the largest stall
Was Eryx.
The veteran warrior stood beside a massive black steed.
Brushing its mane.
The horse looked almost as intimidating as its owner.
Almost.
Eryx glanced up.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Then
"You're awake."
Riven rolled his eyes.
"Apparently."
Eryx nodded.
"As observant as ever."
A small smirk appeared on Riven's face.
That earned a rare chuckle from the older warrior.
For a while they simply stood there.
Enjoying the silence.
Unlike most people, Eryx never felt the need to fill quiet moments with unnecessary words.
Eventually he spoke.
"You cut your hair."
Riven touched it.
"You noticed?"
"You looked ridiculous."
"Good to know."
"You did."
"Thanks."
Eryx laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Rare.
Very rare.
Then his expression became more serious.
"You feeling better?"
Riven hesitated.
Physically?
Absolutely.
Mentally?
That was harder.
"I'm alive."
Eryx snorted.
"That's not what I asked."
Riven sighed.
"Still figuring things out."
The older warrior nodded knowingly.
"I figured."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"Your aura changed."
Riven wasn't surprised.
Everyone seemed to notice.
"That obvious?"
"To people like us?"
Eryx folded his arms.
"Very."
Silence followed.
Then Eryx jerked his head toward the stable entrance.
"Come on."
Riven blinked.
"Where?"
"Ride."
Half an hour later
Two riders emerged from the estate gates.
The city stretched before them.
Riven sat atop his assigned steed.
A powerful silver-gray horse named Stormrunner.
One he hadn't ridden in almost a year.
The horse seemed genuinely happy to see him.
Or perhaps it simply remembered who fed it extra apples.
Either way, Riven appreciated the welcome.
Beside him rode Eryx.
The two moved through the streets at a comfortable pace.
The city bustled with life around them.
Markets overflowed with activity.
Workers repaired roads.
Merchants shouted advertisements.
Children played in alleyways.
Normal.
Peaceful.
For the first time in a long time.
Eryx broke the silence first.
"The city's changed."
Riven looked around.
"Seems that way."
"Not just the city."
His eyes shifted toward Riven.
"You."
Riven already knew where this conversation was heading.
"You mean the mutation."
"I do."
The veteran warrior's expression remained serious.
"You've gotten stronger."
Riven nodded.
"I can feel it."
"Can you control it?"
The answer came immediately.
"No."
Eryx wasn't surprised.
"Thought so."
They continued riding.
"The power isn't stable yet."
Eryx continued.
"You need training."
"I know."
"Not normal training."
His eyes narrowed.
"I mean serious training."
The kind of training that broke people.
The kind that rebuilt them.
Stronger.
Riven understood immediately.
After what happened during the war
He agreed.
Because the memory of Aurelion still haunted him.
Every single day.
The gap between them was incomprehensible.
The strongest warrior alive had destroyed him effortlessly.
If he wanted revenge
If he wanted answers
If he wanted to survive the future
He needed more power.
Much more.
Their conversation shifted toward the war.
The fall of the Second.
The rebuilding efforts.
The new territories.
The political changes.
Everything that had happened while he slept.
Riven listened carefully.
Absorbing every detail.
The world had moved forward without him.
Now he needed to catch up.
As they rode through one of the rebuilt districts
Something unexpected happened.
A group of people suddenly stepped into the street ahead.
Eryx immediately slowed his horse.
Riven did the same.
At first he thought something was wrong.
Then he noticed their expressions.
They weren't angry.
Or afraid.
They looked...
nervous.
Hopeful.
One by one
The people bowed.
Riven blinked.
"What?"
More citizens emerged.
Families.
Workers.
Elderly men and women.
Children.
Dozens of them.
All bowing.
All staring at him.
Confused, Riven looked toward Eryx.
The older warrior simply smiled.
A knowing smile.
Then one small boy stepped forward.
Perhaps eight years old.
Maybe younger.
The child clutched a small wooden carving.
Clearly handmade.
His hands shook as he approached.
Riven immediately dismounted.
The boy looked terrified.
Not of him.
Of speaking.
"It's okay."
Riven crouched slightly.
The boy swallowed.
Then extended the carving.
A wolf.
Crude.
Uneven.
But carefully made.
"I..."
The child's voice trembled.
"Thank you."
Riven froze.
The boy lowered his head.
"You saved me."
The words hit harder than any punch.
And suddenly
He remembered.
The collapsing district.
The burning buildings.
The screaming.
The children trapped beneath the rubble.
The desperate effort to hold up entire structures while civilians escaped.
This boy had been there.
One of the survivors.
Riven slowly accepted the gift.
For several seconds he couldn't find words.
Then
"You're welcome."
The boy smiled.
A huge smile.
Then ran back toward his family.
Immediately more people stepped forward.
Parents.
Grandparents.
Brothers.
Sisters.
One by one.
They thanked him.
Some bowed.
Some cried.
Some simply smiled.
But all of them said the same thing.
Thank you.
Thank you for saving us.
Thank you for protecting our families.
Thank you for coming back alive.
Riven stood frozen.
Because this felt far more overwhelming than any battlefield.
These weren't soldiers.
These weren't warriors.
These were ordinary people.
The people he fought to protect.
And for the first time
He understood something.
Before the war, they had feared him.
Feared his power.
Feared the stories.
Feared what he might become.
Now?
That fear was gone.
They had seen what he chose to do with that power.
And they had accepted him.
Not as a weapon.
Not as a monster.
Not as Nyxara's protégé.
But as Riven.
The realization hit him harder than he expected.
Beside him
Eryx quietly watched.
Saying nothing.
Because he knew.
He understood exactly what this moment meant.
Eventually the crowd dispersed.
Families returned home.
Children waved excitedly.
The little boy proudly showed everyone that Riven had accepted his gift.
And silence returned.
Riven stared at the wooden wolf in his hands.
Then looked toward Eryx.
"I wasn't expecting that."
Eryx smiled.
"No."
"You knew."
"I did."
Riven shook his head.
The veteran warrior laughed.
"Get used to it."
Then Eryx suddenly turned his horse.
"Come on."
Riven blinked.
"Where now?"
The older warrior's expression became unreadable.
Serious.
Almost solemn.
"We're not finished."
Something in his tone immediately caught Riven's attention.
Without another word
Eryx urged his horse forward.
Deeper into the city.
Toward somewhere Riven had never seen before.
And for some reason
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
As though whatever waited ahead...
was important.