Jin left the tavern in slow steps, as if each thought weighed tons on his shoulders. The night was cold but clear. The moon rose among wispy clouds, and the stars speckled the sky like small scars of an ancient world. He walked to a hill behind the city, an old stone lookout where the wind sang in silence.
There, he stood, his single arm crossed over his chest, his cloak billowing in the breeze. His upturned eyes seemed to search the sky for answers he no longer knew how to form.
Inside the tavern, the atmosphere remained quiet until Ziek broke the murmur of the fire.
"Who's Zuphia?" he asked, his voice softer than the crackle of the wood.
Kaellia took a deep breath, her eyes lost in the past.
"A fragment of the Herald. The strongest we've ever faced." Her voice trembled under control. "Her speed… it was like she teleported. Before we realized it, we were already wounded."
Saphira, her gaze distant, added:
"Her presence scared even Jin."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Eira clenched her fists. Lino furrowed his brow. The idea of something that could frighten Jin seemed… impossible.
Without another word, Saphira stood. Her silence spoke for her. She walked to the door.
"Wait," Lino said, standing as well.
Kaellia touched his shoulder and shook her head.
"Let her. If anyone can reach him now… it's her."
Saphira vanished through the door. Her footsteps echoed in the sleeping city's streets.
---
Jin stood still before the vast night. The wind was stronger now, icy, but he didn't move. He sensed her presence before he heard her. Saphira was approaching.
She stopped by his side, saying nothing. She just looked at the sky with him.
For a while, there were no voices—only the whisper of the wind and the weight of unspoken words.
And in that silence, perhaps more than in any conversation, they found each other again.
"We used to do this a lot, didn't we?" Jin broke the silence. His voice was low, roughened by the wind.
Saphira gave a faint smile, her eyes full of memories.
"Yeah. It was always you climbing the highest rocks. You said it was the only way to hear the stars. Even with snow on your shoulders."
Jin let out a hoarse, brief laugh.
They spoke of old times—of missions, of Lyn and Allan's bickering, of nights around the campfire. Jin spoke more than expected, but his voice carried a strange weight: distant, cold.
At one point, Saphira turned her face to him.
"You weren't like this, Jin. What turned you into this?"
He took a long time to answer. When he did, he seemed far away.
"Time. I think I've seen too much. Grew up too soon."
Saphira nodded slowly.
"I only ask one thing of you…"
He looked at her.
"Remember me?"
She smiled sadly.
"The campfires. The stories. The silences. Everything we shared."
Jin lowered his gaze. His expression hardened.
"I wanted to say…" Saphira hesitated, "…that I wanted more time with you."
He laughed, without joy.
"I tore you all apart. Lyn almost died because of me. Allan too…"
"We almost died because we were weak," she said. "But we needed you."
He turned his face away.
"I needed you all. But you never needed me."
Saphira shook her head, her eyes glistening.
"I did. I always felt like the smallest in the group. The weakest. Until you came along. You made me feel like I belonged."
The wind stopped. The world seemed to pause.
But then, something shifted.
A presence. An invisible weight swept through the city. The air grew heavy, the temperature dropped. Lights flickered. People stopped, instinctively. It was an ancient, ravenous power.
Saphira paled. Jin closed his eyes for a moment.
The sky seemed darker now.
He nodded.
"Come on. I'll take you back to the others."
Saphira grabbed his cloak. They returned down the stone street. Her eyes met those of the group—standing in the shadow of an old building.
Jin stepped into their midst. Eira watched him. Ziek crossed his arms. Lino looked away.
Jin took a deep breath and said:
"Eira, scout the area."
Then, firmly:
"Let's go."
They walked down the main street. Citizens watched from the shadows. Some stepped back, others simply stared, as if a legend were passing by.
In the square before the castle, a figure emerged from the shadows.
"Been a while, Jin," said a deep voice. "You should've told me you were coming to the capital."
Jin raised his eyes.
"Didn't plan to, Marcus."
The man stepped into the torchlight: tall, noble, with gray hair and eyes that saw truths.
"Last time I saw you, you still had two arms," Marcus said, a faint smile on his lips.
Before they could continue, Eira came running.
"At the main gate," she said, breathless. "A demonic figure. It hasn't attacked. It's waiting for something."
The tension grew.
Armed groups appeared. Hunters from the capital. They formed a semicircle. Among them, Kaellia's group.
She stepped forward, her blue cloak swirling in the wind.
"We'll provide support," she said firmly. "Spread out. Evacuate civilians. We'll cover the rear."
Jin looked around—veterans, novices, allies, and old bonds.
Then he nodded.
"Alright. Let's give our guest a warm welcome."
He drew the sword from his back. A dark aura gleamed in his eyes.
And for the first time in a long time… the capital prepared to fight as one.