The morning after the scout decided to stay, the air felt different.
Cleaner. Sharper. Like the world itself was holding its breath.
The scout — no, Yoren now that he'd actually told us his name — stood beside me and Lune at dawn. He had his old sword with him. It was chipped, dull, handled like it had been through too many winters and not enough care.
He held it out to me.
"I don't want to throw away who I was," he said quietly. "I want to become something more than that."
His voice wasn't dramatic. Not shaking. Just honest.
Lune nodded once. Tessa grinned like she was already planning his training schedule and probable hospital visits.
I placed my hand over his.
"There's no going back once you choose a path in Kurolussa," I reminded him. "Once chosen, it defines you. We don't do half-steps."
Yoren exhaled.
"Good. I'm tired of half-living."
And that was that.
No grand swearing of oaths. No divine light show. Just a man choosing not to be small anymore.
SWORDMASTER — PATH CHOSEN
(not announced by glowing text — just felt)
Lune took him aside to begin training. Her teaching style was… gentle brutality.
Which is to say:
> "Breathe. Place your feet evenly.
Good. Now do it again.
For four hours."
Yoren nearly died in the first hour.
But he kept going.
Tessa threw water at him every time he looked close to collapsing, shouting motivational wisdom like:
> "PAIN IS JUST YOUR OLD LIFE LEAVING YOUR BODY!"
I still don't know if that's inspirational or a threat.
---
The Town That Didn't Exist Yesterday
While they trained, I walked to the clearing that would become our capital.
Our first true mark on the world.
I stood with my hand hovering over the ground, not touching. Touching… tends to turn things into screaming cubes. Trying very hard to avoid that today.
Seia's voice murmured somewhere behind my thoughts.
"Do not shape the land with power alone. Shape it with intention. A home must be made, not forced."
"For once," I muttered, "you sound like you know what you're talking about."
A low, amused exhale.
"I always do. You simply rarely like the answers."
Fair.
So instead of pouring power into the earth all at once — I asked it.
Literally asked.
I pressed my fingers lightly to the soil and breathed.
Not magic.
Not mana.
Just presence.
"Grow," I whispered.
The earth warmed under my hand.
Not burning.
Welcoming.
Grass thickened.
Trees straightened and spaced themselves.
A small riverbank curved gently toward what could become a marketplace.
Stone surfaced where roads should be.
Not perfect. Not finished.
But living.
When I stepped back, the new town was only outlines — foundations, gentle form, nothing grand yet.
But it felt right.
Tessa walked up behind me, hands on her hips. "…It looks like a sketch."
"It's supposed to," I said. "People fill in the rest."
Lune wiped sweat from her brow, guiding Yoren to sit before he passed out. He watched the beginnings of Kamia with eyes that were not afraid anymore.
"What's the name?" he asked, voice raw.
I hesitated.
Then it came, quiet and firm:
"Kamia."
The syllables settled into the ground like roots.
Tessa blinked. "Meaning?"
I smiled, small.
"Home that we choose."
Lune's expression softened.
And Yoren bowed his head — not to me, but to the idea.
---
The Word Spreads
We didn't announce Kamia.
We didn't recruit.
We didn't preach, or declare, or boast.
But travelers talk.
A merchant passed by.
Then a farmer.
Then two refugees from a burned village.
Then a woman with a child who just wanted somewhere not cruel.
They didn't ask what we offered.
They asked:
"Can we stay?"
And I said yes.
Lune taught sword practice at dawn.
Tessa organized storage, food, tools, schedules — somehow yelling the whole time.
Yoren trained until his arms shook but his eyes were steady now.
And I?
I shaped slowly.
One house.
Then three.
Then paths.
Then gardens.
Nothing perfect. Nothing monumental.
Just real.
And one evening, as lanterns flickered across our half-built streets, Tessa leaned against my shoulder and murmured:
"You know this is how legends start, right?"
I looked at our town.
Our people.
Our beginning.
"No," I said softly. "This is how home starts."
Seia, somewhere deep inside, said nothing.
But I could feel him smiling.