After escorting Veronica on her tour, Veridian went off to train the southern troops, and Valieon found himself alone once again. He sat atop a mountain, watching the sky as the sun began to set. The orange and pink hues of the sky reminded him of simpler times, of when things were just starting to change. He thought about Master Zephyr and the time spent training under him. There was a heavy feeling in his heart, a yearning to return to those days when things were more clear-cut.
Suddenly, a deep voice called out from behind him.
"Valieon!"
He turned around swiftly, startled but recognizing the voice immediately. Standing before him was a familiar figure—dressed in royal robes, with a handsome face now marked by the passing of time. The black hair that used to be full and smooth had turned white, and the clean-shaven face now bore a rugged beard. It was Kael Draven, finally retired from his service.
Valieon's heart skipped a beat. His eyes welled with tears as he ran to Draven like a child, enveloping him in a tight hug. It was the same embrace from seven years ago, when Draven had given him the offer of education, but this time, Valieon had grown taller and, perhaps, stronger than his mentor.
"Where were you? Why are you so late?" Valieon's voice trembled as the tears spilled.
Draven chuckled softly, his once-strong voice now gentle with age. "I've finally retired, Valieon. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. There's just one last war to finish, and then I'll always be by your side."
Valieon wiped his tears away, a smile starting to form on his face. "Another seven years?" he joked, but Draven shook his head.
"No, just a month. It's a short war, but the politics… I can't explain them to you yet," Draven said with a sigh.
"I've waited seven years," Valieon replied with a determined look, "I can wait one more month."
Kael Draven smiled, placing a hand on Valieon's shoulder. "Good. You've grown, Valieon. I'm proud of you."
Valieon's heart swelled with pride and happiness. Hearing those words from his mentor meant everything. They spent the rest of the day together, walking to the swing that Valieon had loved as a child, playing with the animals, and even going to the same barber shop they had visited seven years ago. Draven got a shave, and they joked about old times, the laughter filling the air.
As night fell and they made their way back to Draven's house, Valieon couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest. Things were changing, but some things—like this bond—would always stay the same.
As they walked down the familiar path, Draven stopped and turned to Valieon. "I'll be going to war tomorrow," he said, his voice steady. I wanted you to know how proud I am of you."
Valieon beamed, his heart light with joy. The man who had been a father figure to him had always believed in him. And now, Valieon finally felt like he was living up to that belief.
That night, Valieon fell asleep in Draven's house, the comfort of having his mentor by his side filling him with peace. When he awoke the next morning, there was a letter lying beside him, written in Draven's familiar handwriting:
"Stay Strong."