The caravan rattled down the city road, its wheels vibrating through Shirou's bones as the twilight deepened. Nana stood, pressed against the sideboard, her small face flattened against the window. She peered out at the grand buildings rising like silent sentinels on either side. Street lamps of wrought iron bent over cobblestones cast pools of golden light, and banners fluttered from balconies above cobbled plates.
Shirou watched her, then turned to look at himself. This place was a world apart from the outskirts: smooth stone walls instead of crumbling brick, merchants hawking exotic spices instead of empty stalls, workshop apprentices sweeping shutters instead of scavenging rubble. Everywhere, people used magic as naturally as breathing—levitating crates, weaving signs of glowing runes, and even calling gentle breezes to clear dust from shop fronts.
A smile flickered across Shirou's lips as he caught sight of a boy on the next street corner shaping a shimmering sphere of water in mid‑air, sending it spinning to impress a group of girls. Nana mirrored his grin, her tiredness forgotten for a moment.
He felt it then—an unfamiliar warmth, spreading from his chest out to his fingertips. His emotions, long muted by shock and survival, were waking fully now. He'd guessed he'd recovered only thirty percent back in the ruins; now, perhaps sixty or more of his old self had returned. Memories of another life—mundane family dinners, lazy summer afternoons, his old name flowed back with surprising clarity.
My old life was so uneventful, he thought. And Shirou… yeah, Shirou feels right. But maybe I need a last name too. He toyed with the idea, but for now, he let it drift. There were more immediate concerns—finding Nana safe shelter and strengthening himself further.
His thoughts were interrupted by Varan's voice from a few paces ahead, leaning out of the caravan's back window.
"Beautiful, isn't it? Entirely different from those blasted slums. Velgrath's just the tip of the iceberg—wait until you see the merchant districts and the scholar's quarter."
Shirou nodded. "You sell your goods here?"
Varan smiled proudly. "Out of Lucariaus's three kingdoms, this is the true economic hub. Most of our gold flows through these streets. Of course, I trade here."
Lucariaus, Shirou reminded himself, was the larger of the two nations of this land, itself divided into three kingdoms: Western, Central, and Eastern
Each Kingdom was governed by a Highlord appointed by the King, whose palace lay hidden at the tri‑border centre beyond his sight.
Shirou thought back to the bandits he'd encountered in the outskirts—crude men who'd offered him intel, coins, and experience, pleading only for mercy. Strange, that the worst of humanity could also be so… useful. I miss the good old days.
He really missed the simplicity of those clashes. But here, survival demanded more than beating up some bandits.
As the caravan rolled on, motorized carts—fleet vehicles without horses—whizzed past, humming softly. Shirou watched them, puzzled, until Lin caught his gaze.
"Those run on mana stones," she explained, twisting her hair into a loose braid. "They aren't ordinary vehicles but powered by mana stones—a unique energy source found in mines scattered across the world. In the past, these stones were so rare that only nobles and the elite could afford to use them. However, a breakthrough discovery by Professor Hazel allowed them to be artificially manufactured, revolutionizing industries. Now, magic-powered vehicles, machinery, lanterns and even household appliances were commonplace.
"Professor Hazel, huh?".
"Yeah, he was a great man. Done many good deeds but was killed during the third war."
"He's dead?" Shirou's voice was soft—Lin looked small in the fading light.
She nodded, brow furrowed. "Professor Hazel died alongside thousands in that war. The Third War… I still remember the carnage. Corpses in the streets, buildings aflame. The Zyrex Clan—monsters in flesh and bone—laid waste to half the city before they were stopped."
Shirou's heart tightened. "I'm sorry you lived through that."
Lin managed a shaky laugh. "Doesn't help to dwell on the past. It's been over three years, Shirou. The Zyrex clan are all gone. City rebuilt. Life moves on."
He offered a small smile. "You're right."
Lin exhaled, relaxed. "Sorry for the gloom "
"Look!" She pointed as the caravan slowed to a halt.
Varan turned back toward them. "You both should get off here. The trade district is just ahead. Official checkpoints abound, and they'll question strangers too closely. Best to part now."
Nana sat quietly, her small fingers still curled around the silver necklace. Lin's necklace.
Shirou knelt beside Nana, his eyes resting on the silver necklace glinting faintly in her small hands. Lin's necklace. The last thing she had left from her mother.
"Nana," he said gently, keeping his voice calm. "Can you give that back?"
She looked up at him, her wide eyes torn between innocence and reluctance. Her fingers tightened around the pendant as if it gave her comfort.
Shirou sighed softly. He could see it—the hesitation, the longing. That necklace must have looked beautiful to her, something rare in her bleak little world.
"Come on," he said with a soft smile, brushing her hair aside. "It belongs to someone very important to her. I'll get you another one, even shinier than this. I promise."
Nana's eyes lit up with hope, her lips curling into a smile. After a moment's pause, she held out the necklace with both hands.
"Promise?" she asked, voice small but sincere.
Shirou nodded
After a few seconds, she slowly stood up, walked over to Lin, and held out the necklace with both hands.
"Here," Nana said softly as she kept looking at the necklace.
"Thank you ", said Lin as she patted Nana's head.
Shirou grabbed Nana's small hands as he guided Nana down a short plank as the carriage door swung open.
"Thank you for everything," he said, bowing low.
Varan placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, Shirou. We owe our lives to you. If you ever need help in Velgrath, find me at Varan's Produce on East Market Road."
Lin waved vigorously. "Come visit! I'll show you the best pastries in town."
Shirou chuckled. "I'll hold you to that."
With a final wave, the caravan turned away, slipping into the fading dusk along the busy street. Nana tapped his sleeve.
"I'm hungry," she murmured.
He knelt and peered into her bright eyes. "Me too."
They began walking, the bustling crowd enveloping them. Shops glowed with lantern light, knights st
rolled the ramparts above, and street minstrels played lilting tunes on brass horns.