The journey back to REF was quieter than usual.
No grand speeches, no exaggerated sighs — only the sound of wagon wheels crunching over the dirt road, the whisper of leaves, and the steady rhythm of hooves.
Kael walked alongside the wagon, his cloak catching the soft morning breeze. The forest's curse had lifted behind them, leaving the air fresh and clean again. It almost felt like the world itself was exhaling relief.
Brown, walking at his side, glanced toward the sky. "Feels strange, doesn't it? Finishing a mission without losing half our sanity."
Kael gave a faint smile. "I'll admit… peace feels unfamiliar."
From the back of the wagon, Pallas stretched her arms and yawned. "Don't jinx it, Brown. The universe loves proving us wrong."
"Let's hope it doesn't," Vex muttered, carefully storing the last of his used potions back into their glass cases. "I'm running low on ingredients. Again."
Lyra leaned against the wagon rail, her tone gentle. "You saved those men. That should count for something."
"It does," Kael said, glancing back at the group. "Each time we bring someone back, it feels like the world grows a little lighter."
For once, everyone agreed quietly.
The gates of REF appeared at the end of the road — strong stone walls, reinforced with iron and faint runes of protection that shimmered faintly under sunlight. Inside, the city was alive with trade, laughter, and the kind of calm bustle that only came after months of peace.
Since the rebuilding began, thanks to Luminor's guidance and Vex's inventions, REF had changed dramatically. The once-rough frontier town now carried the signs of a thriving city: clean streets, crystal-powered lamps, and rows of newly built estates where nobles had begun investing.
As the group entered, a few citizens stopped to wave. Whispers followed — not in fear or awe, but in respect.
Kael acknowledged them with a simple nod. He didn't crave attention, but it warmed him to see the people smiling again.
When they reached the central plaza, Luminor was waiting. The young Keeper stood beneath the marble statue of the phoenix — a new symbol of REF's rebirth — his calm eyes scanning a document in his hand.
He looked up as Kael approached. "You've returned."
Kael clasped his forearm. "Mission complete. The forest is free, and the missing men are safe."
"Well done," Luminor said with his usual measured composure. "The guild has already received confirmation. They're impressed — and slightly unnerved that you handled it without requesting backup."
Brown smirked. "Backup slows us down."
"Or saves lives," Luminor replied evenly. "Perspective, I suppose."
Pallas hopped down from the wagon, brushing dust off her sleeves. "You look like you've been waiting for us."
Luminor's expression shifted slightly — not nervous, but thoughtful. "I have. There's something you all should know."
The others gathered closer as his voice dropped lower. "Earlier this morning, I received an official summons from the Patriarchs of the Spiro Family."
At once, the air seemed to tighten. Even the usual ambient noise of the plaza felt quieter.
Sequoia froze. "The Spiro Family?" she repeated slowly.
Luminor nodded. "Yes. The patriarch himself — Lord Cadrin Spiro — has requested a private audience. He wants to meet with me… and with you, Sequoia."
Her expression flickered — confusion, then disbelief. "Me? Why?"
"They didn't specify," Luminor said carefully, slipping the parchment into his cloak. "But the tone was… formal. Almost regretful. They used our full family titles."
Kael frowned. "That's unusual. The Spiro patriarch rarely calls people back without reason — especially those who've already left his circle."
Vex crossed his arms. "You think they found out something about the curse you placed on their bloodline?"
Luminor's eyes darkened slightly, the faint glow of his Keeper core flickering beneath his collar. "Perhaps. But I didn't curse them — I marked them. A protective limitation. It was meant to stop further corruption from spreading within the family's mana heritage. They must have discovered something… inconvenient."
Sequoia's hands trembled slightly. "They want us back," she whispered. "Why now, after everything?"
Kael's voice softened. "Maybe they realized how much you both changed. Or maybe they need you for something only a Keeper and his counterpart can fix."
Luminor looked toward the distant spires of the noble district. "I'll go see them at dawn tomorrow. Alone, if necessary."
"No," Kael said firmly. "You won't go alone. The Spiro Family has power, but not all of them value truth over pride. I'll go with you."
Luminor met his gaze — calm, analytical as always — then nodded. "Understood."
Lyra touched Sequoia's arm gently. "You'll be fine. We'll all be nearby, even if they only call for you and Luminor."
Sequoia tried to smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I know. It's just… strange. I spent my whole life trying to get out of that family's shadow. Now they're pulling me back."
"You're not the same girl they cast aside," Amara said softly. "You've built something here — with us."
That seemed to steady her.
Brown exhaled slowly. "Then we prepare. If the Spiros are stirring again, politics are about to get messy."
Kael nodded. "REF stands because of us — because of everyone who worked to rebuild it. No noble, no patriarch, gets to decide that alone."
The group dispersed gradually, each lost in thought. The evening fell over REF in hues of amber and violet, lamps flickering to life along the new cobbled streets.
Sequoia walked a few steps behind the others, her gaze fixed on the faint light glimmering through the clouds above. "I wonder," she murmured, "what they'll want from us."
Luminor's voice came quietly beside her. "Answers, perhaps. Or absolution. But whatever it is — we face it together."
Her eyes met his. "Always?"
He nodded once. "Always."
That night, REF was calm. No laughter echoed through the streets, no exaggerated declarations filled the air — only quiet conversation, steady hearts, and the feeling that something larger was beginning to stir beneath the surface of peace.
Kael stood by the window of the central manor, overlooking the lights of his growing city. The moon hung high — silver, serene, watchful.
For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel like a hero or a warrior. He felt like a guardian — of a home worth protecting.
Tomorrow would bring answers. And perhaps, old ghosts.