The village was already alive with the chatter of merchants and fishermen as the sun rose higher over the river. Market stalls had been set up, the air thick with the scent of dried fish, salted meat, and tropical fruit. It was a day like any other—until whispers turned toward the unfamiliar.
"Did you see them last night?" one merchant whispered to his neighbor while weighing a bundle of herbs.
"Aye. Four of them, walking like lions among sheep. Cultivators, they said," the other replied, squinting down the dock.
"What do they want in Giga town? It's rare for cultivators to be this far south."
"Something's up. Did you see their swords? Shining like they were carved from moonlight."
Another woman near the mango stand chimed in, "My husband said they stayed at the Chief's home. Looked serious, all of them. Not a smile on any of their faces."
A group of children who had gathered near the edge of the dock pointed excitedly. "They're coming again!"
Down the main path, four figures emerged in coordinated white garments embroidered with cobalt blue, the proud colors of the Azura Sect. Their robes flowed like water, pristine and untouched by the dust rising from their steps. Hushed silence spread as they passed, villagers stepping aside with both awe and unease.
Back at the dock, Aithur was already preparing the large boat he only used for Giga-bound journeys. He hoisted a heavy sack of fruits and vegetables over his shoulder, letting it land with a satisfying thud into the boat.
"Don't bruise the bananas, fool boy!" a voice shouted from behind.
Aithur turned, grinning. "Old Hem! Still alive and complaining, I see."
Old Hem, a wiry man with sun-darkened skin and a patchy beard, hobbled toward him with a wooden box in hand.
"Bah! Of course I'm alive. Someone has to remind you not to crash the boat."
Aithur rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous I still have all my teeth and don't use my fishing rod as a walking stick."
"Careful now. This old rod's pulled more fish than you've had meals!" Hem retorted, chuckling.
"If by fish, you mean seaweed and shoe soles, then sure."
Old Hem waved a hand dismissively. "Just shut up and deliver this box to my daughter. Her shop's by the Giga eastern quay. Tell her it's from her doting father and to open it immediately."
Aithur took the box, eyeing it suspiciously. "Not a prank, is it?"
"Just some dried herbs and tea. Good for her husband's bad knees."
"If he drinks this and grows a tail, I'm blaming you."
Hem laughed, leaning his weight on the boat's railing. "Deliver it, boy. And catch me one of those river fish from Giga. The ones with silver scales."
"Only if you tell your son to hunt one of those fat boars I like."
"Done! He'll love an excuse to go out with his bow."
They laughed together, the moment briefly pushing away the tension that had settled in the village. But the laughter faded when the sound of boots against the wooden dock echoed closer.
The four cultivators arrived, their expressions neutral but their steps purposeful. Their robes shimmered faintly in the morning light, the embroidered blue patterns of the Azura Sect resembling flowing waves.
All eyes turned toward them. Villagers whispered, some in awe, others in fear.
Aithur's face hardened. He turned his back to them, tossing the last bag onto the boat with a grunt. He could feel their presence, the heavy aura of power surrounding them like a cloak.
"Are we ready to depart?" one of the cultivators asked, voice crisp.
"Yeah, yeah," Aithur muttered, climbing aboard. He untied the rope from the dock post and tossed it on deck.
As he pushed the boat away with his oak pole, he caught the quiet murmurs behind him.
"He didn't even bow to us," one of the younger cultivators grumbled.
"A mere fisherman, daring to speak to us like that," another snapped.
Hian, the leader, raised a hand. "If a simple insult unsettles you, what happens when an elder mocks you before a hundred sect members? Will you lash out? Or run like a child?"
The disgruntled cultivator clenched his jaw but said nothing more, tightening his grip on his sheathed sword.
The twins of the group, nearly identical in frame and movement, were more amused than angry. One tilted his head, staring at Aithur as he maneuvered the boat.
"He's oddly fine-looking, isn't he?" said the first twin.
"Navy sky-blue hair, brown slatted eyes, skin almost snow white..." added the second.
"Like his sister."
"Definitely not like the rest of these villagers."
Hian smirked. "Stare too long and the fishermen might start thinking you've fallen for him."
The twins blinked, then quickly looked away, coughing in embarrassment as they noticed the curious stares of nearby onlookers.
Aithur, feeling an odd chill run down his spine, paused mid-push. He looked over his shoulder but only saw the cultivators quietly boarding. He shook off the feeling. "Must be the breeze," he muttered.
Old Hem leaned closer one last time. "You sure about this, boy? Five days with those high-and-mighty types?"
Aithur grunted. "I'd rather swim the river with a rock tied to my leg. But the chief needs someone, and Grey's away."
"That's what I figured. Stay safe, and don't let 'em bore you to death with tales of sword arts and enlightenment."
"No promises."
With one final shove, the boat drifted from the dock and began to glide along the calm current. The villagers onshore slowly returned to their routines, though some lingered, watching the boat until it became a speck.
Then, a sudden shout rang out.
"AITHUR!"
He turned sharply and saw Liana sprinting to the dock with the Chief following behind her. Her dark hair whipped behind her as she waved with both arms.
"You better come back!"
Aithur grinned, placing two fingers to his lips and whistling. "Only if you clean my room!"
"I'll burn your fishing rod if you don't!"
The cultivators looked between them, bewildered at the emotional display.
Liana's smile faded slowly as the boat slipped farther away. Her fingers dropped from their wave, and she stood still beside the Chief.
"He'll be fine," the Chief said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Liana's gaze remained fixed on the river. "I want to believe that. But... my chest feels tight. It's strange, but... it feels like this is the last time I'll ever see him again."
The wind picked up, rustling the hem of her dress. The river carried her brother further, and her heart sank with the current.