When they reached a sloping field dotted with wildflowers and short trees, Batu raised a hand and called out, "Let's rest here. The horses need water. And so do we."
Elowen guided the horse to a wide tree, and together she and Liora dismounted. The girl barely stood on her own feet, her body heavy with exhaustion.
They settled under the tree, and Elowen pulled Liora close. "You and I could use a nap too, right?" she said softly, already sinking into the warm grass. Liora didn't answer. Her tears had dried, but her soul still felt stormy.
They slept. Or at least Elowen did. Liora's sleep was shallow, disturbed by flashes of memory—screaming goblins, blood on her hands, a child's face she didn't recognize staring back in fear.
When she finally opened her eyes, the sun had shifted, and Elowen was still dozing peacefully. Fifty meters away, General Batu stood near a small puddle, tending to the horses.
Liora rose quietly, careful not to wake Elowen, and walked toward him. Her footsteps crunched lightly on the dry grass. She found a small, round stone nearby and sat, not looking at the general.
"Are you okay, girl?" Batu asked, without turning. "Yeah… somewhat," she murmured. He chuckled, low and amused. "Good for you, then."
There was a long pause. "You and the other generals…" Liora said. "You're strong, right? Do you… enjoy killing things? Being brutal?"
Batu shrugged nonchalantly. "Strong or weak is just a matter of perspective, i suppose to someone weaker than me, I may appear strong. But to someone better, I'm probably still lacking." He paused, letting the idea sink in before continuing.
"As for enjoying killing and being brutal…" He trailed off, studying her reaction closely.
"I think you're viewing us through the lens of Sanctoran culture. We're not inherently brutal or bloodthirsty—we're simply free-spirited people shaped by our history and traditions. We take pride in what we do—even if it's hunting goblins."
He glanced at her. "Ever heard of Saint Lux Windoria?" Liora nodded slowly. "Only a little. Not much."
Batu grinned. "He's our idol. Just like Saint Felix is yours. Lux shaped our way of life. We fight the way he fought, laugh the way he laughed. Maybe that's why we seem callous. But we're not." Liora listened now, her eyes narrowing in concentration.
"If this job—goblin hunting—wasn't made into something enjoyable, something we could take pride in, who would want to do it?" Batu said.
"If we didn't find ways to make it fun, exciting… we'd lose. The goblins would take everything." He dusted off his hands and looked her square in the eye.
"It's not about being brutal. It's about doing what needs to be done. And finding strength in it. Reason in it." Liora looked down, quiet.
After a moment, she smiled—just a little. "Thanks for saying that, General Batu. I… needed to hear it."
He smiled back, genuine and warm. "No problem at all. It's my honor to talk to the girl who's about to become the most famous person in the human race." Liora laughed—an honest, wind-swept laugh.
For the first time all day, she felt lighter. Then Batu stood, brushing off his trousers. "Now, let's resume our journey before nightfall—and looks like your sleepyhead friend has awakened too."
Sure enough, Elowen was stretching lazily beneath the tree, blinking blearily as she adjusted to the sunlight. Liora jogged over to greet her, her demeanor noticeably brighter than before.
By the time Liora jogged back to Elowen under the tree, the wind had shifted—less biting, more playful. The storm inside her had eased, and in its place was something lighter, steadier.
Elowen stood with her arms wide, waiting. Liora stepped into the hug, resting her head on Elowen's shoulder, and they stood there quietly in the warmth of each other's presence.
"You two were gossiping about me, weren't you?" Elowen said with a smirk. "I swear my ears were burning the whole time I was napping."
Liora laughed, her voice still a bit hoarse but full of mischief. "Nah… but if you want, I could go back and talk to General Batu again. Say nice things about you. Maybe try to hook you up?"
Elowen blinked, mock offended, and growled, "Oh, so you're a matchmaker now, huh? Where'd you get this annoying behavior from? It must be your uncle. He's passed his bad soul into you." With a sudden move, Elowen lunged and tickled Liora's side.
The younger girl shrieked and squirmed, laughing uncontrollably. Their laughter filled the field, cutting through the silence that had hung over them earlier like a fog.
For the first time in days, it felt like joy had returned. Not long after, General Batu returned with the horses, calm and steady as always. They mounted and resumed their ride across the plains, the grasses golden beneath the late afternoon sun.
It took nearly an hour to reach the Windorian campsite—a sprawling circle of gers, each painted with swirling designs of wind and fire. Smoke drifted gently from their chimneys, and warriors trained or rested nearby, sharpening blades and exchanging quiet stories.
But their destination was clear: the high chief's ger. Towering above the rest, the entrance flanked by tall banners bearing the Windoria crest—an eagle soaring within a swirl of wind.
Inside, High Chief Altan and the other generals were already seated on thick cushions, sipping fermented mare's milk and chewing on roasted meats.
The moment Liora, Elowen, and Batu entered, the conversations halted. "You've returned," Altan said, rising. "Please, sit. You must be weary."
Plates were passed around—succulent lamb, wild root vegetables, spiced grains, and sweet berry paste. Liora dug in with more spirit than she'd expected, her hunger reigniting with every bite.
Elowen, too, ate heartily, smiling across the table at her friend. It felt like a feast not just of food—but of relief. After the meal, High Chief Altan stood and motioned for them to follow.
"Come. There is a place behind this ger—a quiet hill. We'll speak there." They obeyed. A small group of warriors followed at a distance, carrying torches and bundles of dry kindling.
A modest bonfire crackled softly, providing warmth and minimal lighting as Altan addressed them. Altan turned to Liora, his expression solemn. "I know you're tired, Miss Liora, Miss Elowen, and you too, Batu. So without further ado, please show us what you've gained miss Liora."
Liora exchanged a glance with Elowen, who nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, she raised her staff and summoned Sylphine. "Come forth, Sylph." At first, there was only silence.
Then… the wind stirred. It blew harder, faster, twisting around the flames until they flickered and nearly died. A distant cry echoed in the sky—a sharp, majestic screech that made every general rise in alert.
From the clouds above, a harpy eagle descended, wings wide like thunder, eyes glowing faintly with ancient power. She landed on Liora's shoulder with grace and familiarity, her sharp gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd.
Liora smiled. "Everyone… please welcome Sylphine." The crowd stared, frozen. General Batu's jaw dropped. One of the generals nearly fell backward. And then—Altan moved first.
He dropped to one knee. "We offer our highest respect to the Angel of the Wind God," he said, voice steady and reverent. The others followed suit. In perfect unison, they bowed low, murmuring the same words.
Sylphine blinked once, then let out a long sigh. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever," she said in a voice as dry as desert air. She turned and gave Liora a soft peck on the head. "Don't summon me for trivial matters like this again, silly girl. You know I hate being stared at."
With that, she leapt into the sky, vanishing into the gust that followed.
Silence fell again—this time heavier. The generals stared at Liora with disbelief, reverence… and a touch of awe. Altan broke it with a stunned breath.
"Miss Liora… is the angel what you retrieved from our sacred place?" Liora blinked, caught completely off guard. "W-Wait, what? Angel? What do you mean?"
Altan elaborated, explaining how Sylphine was revered in Windorian culture as an angel sent by the wind God to aid Saint Lux Windoria. "Her image is carved and painted everywhere—on ger's doors, horse saddles, weapons, armors, even utensils. Surely you've noticed?"
Liora laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. "i-im so sorry. It's my first time here, so there's still a lot I need to learn." Elowen chimed in supportively. "take it easy, high chief Altan. She's only recently graduated from mage academy, and other kingdom's histories aren't always taught extensively."
Altan cleared his throat and nodded understandingly. "If you would allow it… may I speak with you privately, Miss Liora?" Liora hesitated, eyes wide. "Am I… in trouble?" Altan laughed heartily. "No, quite the opposite. You may soon hold a special place in our history."
The bonfire crackled softly, its faint glow casting flickering shadows on the ground as High Chief Altan and Liora remained seated beside it. The rest of the group had dispersed one by one, leaving behind murmurs of admiration, wonder, and shock at what they had just witnessed.
Elowen was the last to leave, her steps slow but deliberate as she turned back briefly to address Liora. "I'll wait for you in our ger," she said with a reassuring smile before disappearing into the night.
Liora nodded in appreciation, watching her mentor go until only two figures remained near the fire—herself and Altan. The elder man finally broke the silence, his voice calm yet filled with sincerity.
"Miss Liora, first and foremost, I want to apologize if our reaction earlier made you uncomfortable in any way. But please understand—it is not every day that we see a legendary being of our culture and history appear before us in the flesh."
Liora smiled awkwardly, fidgeting slightly under the weight of his words. "I-it's okay, High Chief Altan. I understand your feelings," she replied hesitantly, still processing the surreal events herself.
Altan's expression softened further, gratitude evident in his tone. "Thank you for your understanding, Miss Liora. To be honest, none of us expected this outcome."
"We assumed the sacred place held merely an item—a weapon, perhaps, or a magical formula—and our duty was simply to guard its location and keep it secret. Never did we imagine it would turn out to be the nesting ground of *our angel*." He paused, letting the enormity of his statement sink in.
"As I mentioned earlier, this being is one of the few pillars of Windorian legend, history, and culture. Saint Lux Windoria is revered as the prophet who united our people, and Sylphine—the being you summoned—is the angel sent by the wind god to aid him on his journey."
"Now that you have become her master, allow me to share the story of Windoria with you." Liora's eyes widened slightly, touched by the honor bestowed upon her.
She offered a gentle smile, nodding earnestly. "Of course, High Chief Altan. I'd be glad—and honored—to hear the story."