The adrenaline of the Bairoya Tournament and the harrowing rescue at Coya Village had finally begun to fade, leaving behind a profound, bone-deep exhaustion. As the sun rose over Boro City the following morning, the members of the Blue Sky party reached a silent agreement: today was a day for rest, for family, and for the quiet moments that made their dangerous lives worth living.
We split up at the city gates. Luke headed toward the small, cramped apartment he shared with his sister, his pockets heavy with prize money and a new doll tucked under his arm. Mason, ever the soul of the group, announced his intention to visit the orphanage where he had grown up, his arms laden with bags of sweets and pastries. Rim, who lived alone in a rented room in the city, looked at me with a soft, uncertain expression.
"Would you like to come with me to Glann Village?" I asked. "My parents would love the company."
Rim smiled, a genuine sparkle in her eyes. "I'd like that, Kaelo."
The journey to Glann Village was a peaceful trek through rolling hills. As we approached the village outskirts, the scenery was dominated by the magnificent Ziyko Trees. These giants stood over five meters tall, their vibrant red leaves shimmering like rubies against the azure sky. To a stranger, it looked like a forest on fire; to me, it looked like home.
When we reached my family's cottage, I saw them—my parents. My father, a man with fiery red hair and a rugged, handsome face that spoke of years of hard labor, was sharpening a tool on the porch. My mother, elegant and ethereal with her deep blue hair, was hanging laundry. Their eyes widened as they saw me.
"Kaelo! You're home!" my mother cried, dropping a basket of linens to pull me into a crushing hug. "Are you staying? Are you hurt?"
"I'm just here to rest for a day or two, Mom," I laughed, breathing in the scent of home.
My father stepped forward, clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, and beamed with pride. "My son, the ten-year-old Slayer. I heard the news from the traveling merchants. You've made a name for yourself, boy!"
"It was a team effort, Dad," I said modestly.
"Nonsense! Don't be shy about greatness. It's in your blood!" he roared with laughter. I reached into my pouch and handed him a heavy purse of Riya. "Here, Dad. For the farm."
He tried to wave it away. "Keep your money, son. We have enough."
"I want to do this," I insisted, pressing it into his hand. "Let me take care of home while I'm away."
Their attention soon shifted to the girl standing quietly behind me. My mother's eyes twinkled. "And who is this lovely young lady with the pink hair? Kaelo, introduce us!"
"This is Rim," I said. "She's a vital member of the Blue Sky party. She's... she's the one who keeps us alive."
"Rim, what a beautiful name," my mother cooed, taking Rim's hands. "Any friend of my son is family here. Come inside, both of you. I'm making your favorite—Futo Stew with Vanti berries!"
Inside, the house smelled of spices and warmth. My mother explained that the stew was made from tender Futo meat simmered in a broth of Vanti fruit wine. "I'll eat later, Mom," I said. "I want to help Dad with the harvest first."
I grabbed a small harvesting sickle and led Rim out to the fields. Our family specialized in two main crops: Vanti and Ziyko. The Vanti plants were low-growing shrubs, barely a meter tall, with heart-shaped blue leaves and clusters of white, pearl-like berries. The Ziyko trees, as I mentioned, were towering giants, but their value lay in the black, hard-shelled fruit that grew directly from the thick, exposed roots above the soil.
"We harvest the Vanti now, in the fourth month," my father explained to Rim as we worked. "It's the start of the early rains. We call this the 'Summer Crop'—planted in the tenth month and harvested in the fourth. Next month, we'll plant the 'Rainy Crop,' which grows from the fifth to the ninth month."
Rim proved to be a natural, her delicate hands moving with precision as we gathered the Vanti berries and harvested the 20-inch black Ziyko fruits.
"What do we do with these?" Rim asked, tapping a Ziyko fruit.
"Watch," I said. I cracked one open to reveal a snowy white interior. "We grind this into a fine powder. It's used for pancakes, bread, and pastries. It's the staple of our diet." In my mind, I compared it to the wheat of my old world—essential and versatile.
After hours of labor under the golden sun, we returned to the house. The Futo stew was everything I had dreamed of—sweet, savory, and so tender the meat melted on the tongue. We ate until we were full, and that night, for the first time in weeks, I slept in a real bed, while Rim occupied the guest room down the hall.
Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of Boro City, Luke was experiencing a different kind of peace. He had returned to his small apartment, but his first stop was the neighbor's door.
"Auntie! I'm back!" he called out.
An elderly woman opened the door, a smile crinkling her face. Behind her, a five-year-old girl with emerald-green hair came sprinting out. "Lera!"
"Big brother!" Lera squealed as Luke scooped her up into a hug.
"I have a surprise for you," Luke whispered, handing her the doll he had bought. Lera's eyes went wide. She clutched the toy to her chest, her face glowing with pure joy. "I love it! I love you, brother!"
Luke spent the afternoon in their tiny kitchen. He prepared a special meal of Futo meat, coating it in savory Ziyran powder and seasoning it with ground Kanya seeds—a bitter-salty spice that acted much like the salt from my old world. As they sat on the floor eating, Lera looked at him with big, serious eyes.
"I missed you, Luke. Sometimes, when you don't come home for a long time, I get scared... even though Auntie is nice. I'm glad you're back."
Luke's heart wrenched. He stroked her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry, Lera. I have to work so we can have a better life. Next time, I'll bring home even more treats. I promise."
Lera nodded, wiser than her years. "I know. I understand, brother. Just... just come back."
They fell asleep huddled together on their thin mattress, the championship prize money tucked safely away, but the warmth of family being the true treasure.
Across the city, Mason arrived at the Boro Orphanage, the place that had been his only home for nearly twenty years. As soon as he stepped through the gates, a swarm of children surrounded him, cheering as he began distributing the sweets he had brought.
"Mason! You're back! Did you fight any dragons?" the children clamored.
"Not today, little ones!" Mason laughed, ruffling their hair.
He eventually found the head caretaker, a woman named Kaguya. She watched him with a motherly gaze. "You've grown, Mason. And your pockets are fuller, it seems."
"I wanted to give back to the place that raised me," Mason replied.
As they sat in the quiet office later, Kaguya looked at the necklace around Mason's neck. It was a simple silver chain with a circular red pendant, featuring an intricate bird engraved in the center.
"Have you found any leads on your parents?" she asked softly.
Mason gripped the pendant, his thumb tracing the wings of the bird. "No. This is the only clue I have. I've looked through every record in the city, but nothing matches this symbol. But I haven't given up yet. I'll keep searching until I know where I came from."
"You have a family here, Mason. Never forget that," Kaguya said.
Mason stayed for a few more hours, playing games with the children and helping with chores. When he finally returned to his own rented room, he ate a simple meal and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, his hand still clutching the red pendant.
One day of peace. Tomorrow, the Blue Sky would reunite, and the journey across the world of Aster would continue.