The next morning dawned crisp and clear, with frost painting delicate patterns on the orphanage windows. Ethan rose early, as was his habit, and prepared for the journey to the Hunter Guild headquarters. The Frost Wyrm's ice core sat carefully wrapped in his pack, its faint luminescence visible even through the layers of cloth.
Grey was already in the training yard when Ethan arrived, carving through his morning forms with mechanical precision. He'd been unusually quiet since their return—no doubt still wrestling with what had happened on the mountain.
"I'll be back by evening," Ethan called out as he shouldered his pack.
Grey paused in his routine, lowering his sword. "The promotion?"
"The promotion," Ethan confirmed.
For a moment, Grey looked like he wanted to say something else—perhaps an apology, or an acknowledgment of what they had shared on the mountain. But instead, he simply nodded and returned to his training.
Ethan understood. Some experiences were too profound for words, and the mountain had changed them both in ways that would take time to fully comprehend.
The journey to the Hunter Guild passed quickly. When Ethan finally stood before the imposing building that housed the organization's headquarters, he felt a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy.
Grandmaster Alaric's office was exactly as he remembered it—spacious and practical, with tall windows and a polished oak desk surrounded by shelves of ledgers, artifacts, and old reports. But today, Alaric's expression was different. The usual mixture of stern authority and hidden amusement had been replaced by something approaching genuine respect.
"Ethan," Alaric greeted him, rising from his chair. "I trust the mission was successful?"
"It was," Ethan replied, carefully removing the ice core from his pack.
The crystalline structure seemed to pulse with its own inner light as he placed it on the desk. Even in the bright morning sunlight streaming through the office windows, the core's luminescence was clearly visible, casting prismatic patterns across the polished wood surface.
Alaric leaned forward, his experienced eyes examining the core with the careful attention of a man who had seen many rare treasures but few quite like this one. "The Frost Wyrm's heart," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of awe. "I've heard legends of such things, but I never expected to see one with my own eyes."
"It was... challenging," Ethan said simply.
Alaric looked up at him sharply, clearly hearing the understatement in his voice. "Tell me," he said, settling back in his chair. "What really happened up there?"
Ethan gave him a brief but accurate account of the mission—the journey up the mountain, the encounters with various creatures, the final confrontation with the Frost Wyrm. He left out Grey's presence, not wanting to reveal the location of Rivermoor or compromise the orphanage's secret sanctuary.
When he finished, Alaric was quiet for a long moment. "The Frost Wyrm has killed dozens of hunters over the years," he said finally. "Many of them were S-rank, with teams of experienced hunters supporting them. You faced it alone and emerged victorious."
"I had good preparation," Ethan replied. "And perhaps some luck."
"Luck," Alaric repeated, then broke into his characteristic grin. "Yes, I suppose bringing a warm blanket was quite lucky indeed!"
Despite everything, Ethan found himself smiling. "Your advice was very helpful, Grandmaster."
"I'm glad to hear it!" Alaric laughed, then grew serious again. "Ethan, by the authority vested in me by the Hunter Guild, I hereby promote you to S-rank, effective immediately. You have more than proven yourself worthy of the title."
The words should have brought triumph. They should have filled Ethan with satisfaction and pride. Instead, he felt only a quiet sense of completion, as if a long journey had finally reached its destination.
"Thank you, Grandmaster," he said.
"You are now among the elite ranks of hunters," Alaric continued. "Congratulations, Ethan. You've earned this."
After completing the necessary paperwork and receiving his new identification, Ethan stepped out into the bright morning sun. The town streets bustled with activity—merchants hawking their wares, children playing in the squares, ordinary people going about their daily lives.
But Ethan's feet carried him almost unconsciously toward a different part of the town, to a place he had avoided for two long years. The market square where his world had ended and his true journey had begun.
The cobblestones were the same ones that had torn his skin when Emberlyn had thrown him down. The alley where he had pleaded with her to remember their love was still there, narrow and shadowed between two merchant buildings. Even the wall where Lucas had hurled him still bore faint stains that might have been his blood.
Ethan stood in the center of the square, remembering that terrible day with perfect clarity. The desperation in his voice as he had begged her to remember. The cold confusion in her eyes as she looked at him like a stranger. The crowd's anger when they thought he was a madman claiming to be married to the legendary Emberlyn Scarlet.
He had been weak then. Powerless. A simple chef with nothing to offer but his love, and even that had been forgotten. The man who had crawled on his hands and knees, pleading for recognition, felt like a stranger to him now.
But the pain... the pain was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
"I'm strong enough now," he whispered to the empty air, his voice carrying all the weight of two years of relentless training and grinding effort. "I'm finally strong enough to stand beside you."
The irony wasn't lost on him. He had achieved everything he had set out to accomplish. He was S-rank now, one of the elite hunters in the world. He had slain legendary creatures and mastered abilities that most people couldn't even dream of. He had earned the right to approach Emberlyn as an equal.
But standing here in the place where his heart had been broken, he wondered if it would matter. Strength hadn't brought back her memories. Power hadn't healed the wound in her mind that had stolen their love.
What if she still looked at him with those same cold, uncomprehending eyes?
Lost in his thoughts, Ethan almost didn't notice the familiar figure walking through the far end of the square. But even after two years, even from a distance, he would recognize that graceful stride anywhere.
Emberlyn.
She moved with the confident purpose of someone who belonged in this world of danger and adventure. Her red hair caught the sunlight like flame, and her hand rested casually on the hilt of her sword. She was everything he remembered—beautiful, strong, magnificent.
And completely unaware of his presence.
Ethan's heart clenched as he watched her. She was so close—close enough that he could call out to her, close enough that he could approach and speak to her. But the memory of their last encounter held him frozen in place.
*What would he say? What could he possibly say that would make a difference?*
*Hello, Emberlyn. I know you don't remember me, but I'm your husband. I've spent two years becoming strong enough to stand beside you. I've killed legendary creatures and earned the highest rank possible. Will you love me now?*
The words sounded hollow even in his own mind.
As he watched, Emberlyn paused in her walk, her head turning slightly as if she had sensed something. For one heart-stopping moment, her eyes seemed to search the square.
Then, suddenly, her gaze found his.
*Did she recognize me?* Ethan's heart hammered against his ribs, hope flaring like a desperate flame in his chest.
Emberlyn began walking toward him, her expression unreadable. Each step she took felt like an eternity, and Ethan found himself holding his breath.
*Did she remember me?* His pulse thundered in his ears as she drew closer—close enough that he could see the deep crimson of her eyes, the way the sunlight set her fiery hair ablaze.
She was really close now—close enough to touch, close enough to speak to. Just a meter away, she stood directly in front of him, and for one impossible moment, Ethan thought that perhaps, somehow, love had found a way to bridge the gap between them.
Then Emberlyn stepped to the side and walked past him, continuing on her path as if he were nothing more than another obstacle in her way.
"Huh!" The sound escaped him like a wounded animal, and he felt a single tear slide down his cheek, warm against his skin. "Of course not!"
The hope that had flared so bright moments before crumbled into ash. She hadn't recognized him at all. She had simply been walking in his direction, and when he became an inconvenience, she had stepped around him like she might step around a cart or a puddle.
Ethan stumbled forward into the crowd, his vision blurred with unshed tears. The new S-rank identification in his pocket felt like a mockery now—all that power, all that strength, and he was still invisible to the woman he loved. Still nothing more than a stranger in her eyes.
Ethan walked on alone, carrying his love like a burden that grew heavier with each step. He was strong now—stronger than he had ever imagined possible.
But some wounds, he was beginning to realize, couldn't be healed with strength alone.
As he walked back toward the road that would take him home to Rivermoor, Ethan carried with him the image of Emberlyn's face, as beautiful and distant as a star. Somewhere in the depths of his heart, hope still flickered like a candle in the darkness.
Perhaps someday, she would remember. Perhaps someday, love would find a way to bridge the gap that injury had created between them.
But until that day came, he would continue to love her from afar, carrying the memory of their happiness like a treasure hidden in his heart. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
Even if it felt like it was killing him by inches every single day.
***
Far behind him, Emberlyn stood frozen in the middle of the square, her hand pressed against her chest where her heart was beating strangely fast. Something was wrong—or perhaps something was right for the first time in two years.
Slowly, as if compelled by a force she didn't understand, she turned around completely.
Her eyes searched the crowd desperately, looking for a face she couldn't remember, for someone who felt like home. The feeling was so strong it brought tears to her eyes.
"Wait," she whispered to the empty air, her voice breaking. "Please... don't go."