The carriage rolled steadily along the ancient stone road, its wheels humming against the rock like a rhythmic heartbeat. Outside, the forest was a dense, emerald cathedral; thick branches arched overhead like the ribs of some colossal, sleeping beast. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in thin, golden needles, flickering across the carriage windows in a strobe-like rhythm—as if the world itself were blinking in disbelief at the passengers within.
Inside, the air was warm and still, heavy with the gravity of four legends sharing a single space.
Eiden sat by the window, his black cloak draped loosely over his lap. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but his grey eyes remained razor-sharp. He watched the passing trees, though his mind was clearly miles ahead—drifting toward the Whitecrest village, the mother who had called him a "dumbass," and the two swords that held the missing pieces of his soul.
Across from him, Dyuke was a portrait of nervous discipline. He flipped through his blue-and-gold grimoire, but he wasn't truly reading. Every few pages, his eyes would dart up to confirm Eiden was still there, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly as he turned the parchment.
Iris sat beside Eiden, her arms folded and legs crossed. She made a valiant effort to appear indifferent, but her crimson eyes betrayed her. They softened every time she glanced at him, only to dart away the second he moved, her cheeks holding a faint, lingering heat from the night before.
In the corner, Vaelus was the embodiment of chaos. He lounged with his boots up, shamelessly chewing on dried fruit he'd scavenged from Dyuke's personal travel bag. His green robe was a wrinkled mess, and his grin was—as always—infuriatingly smug.
Selyndra sat closest to the door, her elegance radiating a quiet, almost divine warmth. Her golden eyes flickered between the passing scenery and Eiden's profile. Looking at her now, it was hard to reconcile this serene woman with the ruthless killer she had once been.
The carriage rocked gently, the silence stretching until Dyuke finally snapped his grimoire shut with a soft, decisive thud.
"Eiden," he said, the sound cutting through the hum of the wheels. "You're unusually quiet."
Eiden didn't pull his gaze from the window. "I'm thinking."
"About what?" Iris asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"About what I'll do when I get my swords back," Eiden replied. His voice was flat, almost bored, as if he were discussing the weather rather than world-altering power.
Vaelus snorted, nearly spitting out a piece of fruit. "What, kill a god? Again?"
Eiden blinked once, his expression unchanging. "If necessary."
Vaelus actually choked this time, coughing violently. "I was joking!"
"I wasn't," Eiden said simply.
Selyndra hid a small, knowing smile behind her hand. "He's always been like this, Vaelus. You should really know that by now."
Eiden leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, his eyes drifting upward toward the patches of blue sky visible through the leaves. "Today is the beginning," he murmured.
"Of what?" Iris asked, leaning in slightly.
Eiden's eyes narrowed, a sudden, cold intensity flaring within them. "Of my return."
As the carriage moved forward, the forest grew unnervingly quiet. The wind died down to a breathless standstill. Even the mana in the air seemed to warp, bending subtly toward the carriage as if paying homage to its passenger.
Vaelus stretched his legs, his smugness replaced by a slight frown. "Man, this is weird. It's like the world actually knows you're back."
"It does," Selyndra said softly, her golden eyes reflecting the flickering sunlight. "It always did."
Dyuke swallowed hard, his throat dry. "You're all entirely too calm about this."
Eiden finally turned his head, his grey eyes locking onto Dyuke's. "Dyuke," he said calmly, "you're tense."
"I'm currently escorting four of the most dangerous individuals in existence," Dyuke muttered, rubbing his temples. "Forgive me for being a little 'tense'."
Vaelus flashed his sharp teeth in a grin. "Aw, come on. We're not that bad."
"You killed a dragon by accident," Dyuke reminded him flatly.
"It was one time!" Vaelus barked back.
Iris sighed, leaning her head back. "He's right, though. We're… a lot."
Selyndra's smile widened, warm and nostalgic. "We always have been."
Eiden looked at each of them in turn—the thief, the blood mage, the goddess, and the council leader. His expression remained unreadable for a moment before he looked back out at the road.
The carriage rolled on, deeper into the thick woods and toward an uncertain future. For the first time in nineteen years, the four Great Sages were whole again. They weren't on a scorched battlefield or in the middle of a world war; they were simply sitting in a quiet carriage, sharing silence, memories, and the crushing weight of what was to come.
The journey had begun, and as Eiden felt the hum of the road beneath him, he knew that this time, nothing would stop him.