Next morning, Toki walked leisurely through the manor's garden, enjoying the golden sunlight that filtered through the swaying branches of the trees. The air was fresh, thick with the scent of damp earth and blossoming flowers. Morning dew clung to the leaves like tiny jewels. Somewhere in the distance, birds chirped melodiously, their songs weaving through the soft rustle of the wind.
Near the far edge of the garden, Tora was bent over a patch of unruly weeds. She wore her usual maid uniform — a practical yet modest outfit of navy and white, with a starched apron wrapped neatly around her waist. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up, revealing her toned arms, and her long blond hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, some loose strands sticking to her glistening forehead. Her maid headpiece was tied securely, its delicate lace edges fluttering in the breeze. She worked diligently with a sickle, her movements steady and practiced.
"Good morning, Tora!" Toki called out warmly, raising a hand in greeting.
She paused, looked up, and gave a faint but genuine smile. "Good morning, Toki. You're up early."
Toki stepped closer, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path, his hands tucked behind his back. "I'm planning to go to the capital today. I want to check on the progress of the reconstruction of your grandfather's tavern. Thought you might want to come."
Tora straightened, leaning on the handle of her sickle. Her uniform rustled as she shifted her weight. "I'd love to, but I need to finish the work here first."
"Of course," Toki nodded understandingly. "Finish up, and we'll leave together."
She gave a small nod and resumed her task, the sunlight catching on the small silver clasp of her apron. Toki remained nearby, sometimes kneeling to inspect a cluster of blooming peonies, other times plucking stray leaves from the hedge. Eventually, Tora stood up and wiped her brow with the sleeve of her uniform.
"Ready?" she asked, resting the sickle against the stone wall.
"Let's go," Toki replied with a grin.
Together, they made their way toward the manor's stables. The building was long and wooden, with ivy creeping up its sides and swallows nesting under the eaves. The scent of hay and birds greeted them inside, along with the soft rustle of straw. Tora looked around, brushing some dirt from the edge of her apron.
"Why are we here?" she asked curiously.
"Just preparing our means of transport," Toki replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
He strode toward the farthest stall, where a magnificent creature stood. It was a bird — though far larger than any normal bird — with a sleek body covered in silver and teal feathers. Its wings were short and stubby, clearly not made for flight, but its strong legs looked like they could spring across vast distances. Its beak was rounded and glossy, its eyes deep and intelligent.
Toki gently placed a saddle across its back and adjusted the bridle, speaking in soft tones as the creature shifted.
Tora's eyes widened. "What is that?"
"This," Toki said with a note of pride, patting its flank, "is a Lumma bird. Our ride."
The bird made a low, contented warble, flicking its small wings.
"I've never seen anything like it," Tora said, stepping forward cautiously, her maid shoes crunching on the straw.
"That's not surprising," Toki said as he took her hand and helped her onto the saddle. "They're domesticated field birds. Very fast, very reliable. They can hit speeds of eighty kilometers per hour. You probably never noticed them — you rarely left the tavern."
He chuckled softly as he mounted behind her.
Tora turned to him, her cheeks faintly pink. "Why are you laughing?"
"I read in a book once that people used to ride horses," he said, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. "But they went extinct. Dragons hunted them. Then people hunted the dragons, until there were barely any left. Nature finds balance. One species vanishes, another steps in."
Tora's face grew somber. "Dragons..."
Toki's smile faded. "I'm sorry. I forgot... your parents."
She shook her head slowly, the ribbons of her maid cap fluttering slightly in the breeze. "It's okay. Right now, I need to take care of myself... and Grandpa."
They guided the Lumma bird out of the stables and around to the front of the manor. There, Utsuki and Arashi were in the midst of their morning exercise routine. Utsuki was mid-stretch when she spotted them.
"Where are you two headed?" she called.
"To the capital," Toki replied, giving a small wave.
Utsuki grinned. "Be careful. And be back before dinner, or I'm eating your share."
"Noted," Toki said with a laugh.
With a light nudge of his heels, the Lumma bird began to move, stepping gracefully through the manor gates. Once clear of the courtyard, it picked up speed, its powerful legs carrying them smoothly down the dirt road. Trees lined the path, casting flickering shadows over them.
The wind swept through Tora's blond hair, tugging gently at the ribbons on her maid cap. Her skirt fluttered slightly as they rode. She turned to Toki, her eyes shining with a mix of wonder and disbelief.
"I still can't believe something like this exists."
"Nature adapts," Toki said simply. "And so must we."
The road to the capital stretched endlessly ahead, flanked by rolling fields and distant hills. The sun continued its ascent, casting long golden beams across their path.
As the sun reached its midday peak, the golden city walls of the capital shimmered in the distance. The Lumma bird, graceful and tireless, carried Toki and Tora through the winding outer roads. Soon they entered the outskirts — the once-forgotten fringes of the great city. The contrast between the natural serenity of the manor and the raw, gritty reality of the outskirts was stark and immediate.
Dilapidated houses lined the narrow, uneven roads. Most were leaning sideways as if tired of standing, with roofs patched together from scavenged metal sheets and wood. The walls bore the stains of time and weather, windows were shattered or entirely absent. Smoke curled lazily from improvised chimneys, and the air was thick with the mingled scents of soot, sweat, and baked bread from makeshift ovens.
Children played barefoot in the streets, their laughter sharp and joyful against the backdrop of crumbling brick. Their clothes were torn or mismatched, their faces smudged with dirt, but their smiles radiated a kind of warmth that Toki couldn't quite understand. As the Lumma bird stepped into the open, the children ran to them in a wave of excited chatter, their wide eyes fixed on the magnificent creature.
"Look at that! It's a sky-runner!"
"No, silly, it's a thunder-chicken!"
"Can we touch it?"
Toki smiled faintly, but his gaze darkened. These children — they had so little. Forgotten by the world, tossed aside like ragged cloth, yet they laughed. They danced in silence, dreamed in the mud. How many dreams lay buried beneath the refuse of these alleys? How many brilliant minds lost before they had a chance to shine?
He glanced sideways at Tora, seated with perfect posture despite the swaying ride. How had she grown here — in this chaos and decay — and yet emerged with such quiet strength? He watched the children for a moment longer, a pang of guilt gnawing at his heart.
Tora leaned slightly toward him, her blond hair catching the sunlight. "We should keep going."
He nodded silently, guiding the Lumma bird away as the children's voices faded behind them.
The tavern stood at the end of a long cobbled street, its freshly painted wooden walls a stark contrast to the surrounding rubble. Scaffolding still hugged its right wing, but the roof gleamed with new shingles, and a carved sign hung proudly above the doorway: The Soaring Ember.
As they approached, the old man in a brown vest and rolled-up sleeves stood in the sunlight, overseeing a pair of workers installing a new window frame. His white beard was short and tidy, and his sharp eyes lit up the moment he saw them.
"Tora!"
Tora leapt off the Lumma bird and dashed forward. "Grandpa!"
She threw herself into his arms, and he let out a soft grunt, laughing as he held her close.
"Well, look at you," he said, stepping back to take in her maid uniform. "All dolled up and respectable. You wear that better than most nobles."
Tora laughed, brushing her skirt. "It's just work clothes."
The old man turned to Toki, his expression softening. He extended a hand.
" Toki. Thank you... for everything."
Toki shook the weathered hand. "It's nothing. I just... wanted to help."Thinking about the persuasion he had to put in to convince Leonard to finance the tavern
"Don't say it's nothing," the old man said firmly. "You gave her — gave us — something no coin can buy: a second chance."
Toki looked away, a shadow passing across his features.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," he murmured.
The old man tilted his head. "Is something troubling you?"
Toki hesitated. Then the words tumbled out — the image of those children, the hopelessness in the corners of the city, the weight of the royal selection and all its trials. He spoke of the disparity between worlds, of duty and dreams and the ache of helplessness.
The old man listened quietly, arms crossed, until Toki finished.
Then he reached into his vest and pulled out a small wooden box. He opened it to reveal a metal insignia — an old military emblem, gleaming despite the years. It bore the shape of a dragon clutching two crossed swords.
"This was mine," he said. "Captain of the Forth Division. I kept it hidden all these years. Maybe... it's time someone else carries it."
Toki's eyes widened. "I can't. That's—"
"You can. And you will. You don't have to wear it now, but keep it. It may serve you when you least expect it."
Toki took the box with reverence. "Thank you... I will guard it well."
They turned to leave, but Toki paused and turned back. "I... never asked your name. I feel odd calling you just 'the old man.'"
The man chuckled. "Archibald. But my friends call me Archie."
"Toki," he replied with a small bow.
Archibald's gaze dropped to Toki's waist. "No sword?"
Toki grimaced. "I broke it during the last confruntațion. I need to find a new one."
Archibald nodded. "Two streets down, behind the old bakery. You'll find a forge. Tell the smith Archibald sent you."
Toki raised an eyebrow. "Thank you."
As they mounted the Lumma bird again, Archibald called after them, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Be careful. That smith... he's a bit eccentric."
"Understood," Toki said, chuckling.
A short ride brought them to a crooked little bakery, the smell of fresh bread hanging in the air like a warm blanket. Behind it, tucked into a stone alcove barely visible from the street, stood a squat building belching black smoke from its chimney.
Toki dismounted and tied the Lumma bird to a nearby post. He turned to Tora.
"Stay here. This might take a bit."
She nodded. "Don't take too long."
He walked to the door of the forge. It was thick, reinforced with iron strips, and the wood beneath was scorched and scarred. As he raised his hand to knock, the sound of hammering stopped.
He froze before the threshold.
Then, with a deep breath, Toki knocked.