Morning arrived in slow, hesitant waves, spilling pale light across the forest canopy as the carriage pressed onward. Dew clung to the undersides of the leaves, shimmering like scattered crystals in the early dawn. In the distance, the soft, melodic calls of birds echoed through the ancient timber, a peaceful contrast to the power gathered inside the moving transport.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere had shifted. The silence was no longer thick with tension; it had become something familiar, even comfortable. Eiden sat in his usual spot, his black cloak wrapped tightly around him, eyes half-lidded in a state of meditative focus. He wasn't staring out the window today; he was listening. He tracked the rhythm of the wheels, the whistle of the wind, and the low, vibrational hum of mana that saturated the air.
Most of all, he was listening to the presence of the people around him.
Vaelus was the first to shatter the morning quiet. "Okay," he announced, his voice booming in the confined space, "I have a question."
"No," Eiden said instantly, without opening his eyes.
"You didn't even hear it yet!" Vaelus protested.
"I don't need to."
Vaelus groaned, sinking back into his seat. "Fine. I'll ask someone else. Iris—"
"No," Iris said, mimicking Eiden's tone perfectly.
"Damn it!"
Selyndra chuckled softly, the sound light and airy. "You really walked into that one, Vaelus."
Dyuke rubbed his temples, looking like a man who hadn't slept in three days. "Can we please have just one peaceful morning?"
"No," Vaelus said, a note of misplaced pride in his voice.
Eiden exhaled a long, measured sigh. "Vaelus."
Vaelus froze, sensing the shift in the air. "Yes?"
"Sit properly."
Vaelus hesitated for a fraction of a second before slowly lowering his muddy boots from the velvet seat. "Okay, okay… I'm sitting."
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled over a patch of uneven stones. Iris steadied herself, her hand gripping the edge of the seat as her shoulder brushed against Eiden's. She didn't move away, and Eiden remained as steady as a mountain, neither leaning in nor pulling back. Selyndra watched the interaction with a faint, knowing smile; Dyuke noticed it too, but quickly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by a smudge on his grimoire.
After a few minutes of rhythmic swaying, Iris spoke up, her voice quiet and sincere. "Eiden, what do you think the Whitecrest Clan will say when they see you?"
Eiden didn't hesitate. "They'll know."
"Know what, exactly?" Dyuke asked, looking up from his book.
"That I'm back."
Vaelus raised an eyebrow, his smugness returning. "You think they'll just… accept that? Just like that?"
"They don't have a choice," Eiden replied.
Selyndra tilted her head, her golden eyes scanning his face. "You sound remarkably confident."
"I am."
The carriage hit another bump, but Eiden didn't even flinch. His voice remained as steady as a heartbeat. "My swords are calling to me. My mana is still housed inside them. They will recognize their master before anyone else even realizes I've entered the village."
Iris looked down at her hands, her brow furrowing. "Do you think they'll be angry? That you… died?"
Eiden blinked once, his gaze finally shifting toward her. "I didn't die."
"You know what I mean, Eiden."
He leaned back, his eyes drifting upward toward the carriage ceiling. "They'll understand."
Vaelus stretched his arms behind his head, letting out a loud yawn. "Man… I forgot how dramatic you are."
Eiden chose not to respond, letting the jab hang in the air. Dyuke cleared his throat, checking a mental map of their progress. "We should reach the village gates by tomorrow morning."
Selyndra nodded. "Good. The sooner Eiden reclaims his swords, the better for everyone."
Vaelus grinned, his sharp teeth catching the light. "Yeah, because then he can finally go back to killing gods."
Eiden's eyes remained closed. "If necessary."
Vaelus groaned, throwing his hands up. "Stop saying that! It's creepy!"
Iris laughed softly, a genuine sound that seemed to lighten the mood even further. The carriage continued its winding path, venturing deeper into the heart of the forest. The trees here grew taller and more gnarled, their ancient branches twisting like skeletal hands reaching for the heavens. As they progressed, the air grew noticeably colder, and the density of the mana grew so thick it felt like moving through water.
Eiden closed his eyes fully. He could feel it now—the pull. The echo. The faint, rhythmic heartbeat of his steel waiting in the dark.
Tomorrow, he would reclaim his power. Tomorrow, he would reclaim everything.
The second day of their journey ended as the carriage rolled into the long, looming shadows of the ancient woods—the official border of Whitecrest territory.