The snow had melted, giving way to greener paths. The sky stretched wide and blue as the adventurer and Elaina traveled down the worn stone road that led toward the kingdom of Lethrion, a place whispered in tales as the land where heroes of old once walked.
The air held a crisp breeze, carrying the scent of pine and old magic. Caravans passed by, traders and pilgrims alike, heading toward the kingdom's heart for the Festival of Echoes, an annual celebration honoring the legendary summoned heroes who had saved mankind in ages past.
The adventurer pulled his cloak tighter around him, brushing snow-dust from his shoulder. Elaina walked beside him, her arms crossed behind her head and a bright smile on her lips.
"So," she began with a teasing glance, "how does it feel knowing you're walking where legends once stood, Mr. Adventurer?"
He looked ahead, thoughtful. "It feels… heavy."
"Heavy?" She tilted her head.
"There's something about it. Like every step echoes with something I don't quite understand." He paused. "It makes me wonder… what if I was meant to be something like them? Or what if I'm just… lost?"
Elaina's smile softened. She nudged him with her elbow. "You're not lost. You're walking forward. That's more than most people can say."
They reached the grand gates of Lethrion by midday. The city rose like a carved monument from the earth, its walls gleaming white and gold under the sun. Flags bearing symbols of ancient weapons, dragons, and stars danced in the wind. Streets buzzed with energy, children laughing, vendors shouting, and guards standing proud in shining armor.
A grand statue stood in the center plaza, a cloaked warrior holding up a hand of light, eyes fixed to the sky. Below, etched in stone, were the words:
"For the summoned ones who bore our hopes—
We remember, even as time forgets."
Elaina walked to the statue, placing a hand on its cold stone base. "This one's called Caelis. They say he came from another world and had the power to bend starlight."
The adventurer felt a chill despite the sun. Starlight. That word felt too familiar.
"They say he vanished," Elaina said. "Some think he became part of the sky. Others believe he lost his way."
The adventurer stared at the statue's face—calm, unreadable. He lowered his gaze, unsure why his chest tightened.
Later, they wandered through the old halls of the Heroic Archive, a grand library with stained glass windows depicting great battles. In one mural, a hero stood alone against a creature of shadow, his hand alight with glowing threads—threads that twisted like constellations.
Elaina noticed his gaze linger. "Looks like your kind of fight, doesn't it?"
He didn't answer, only muttered, "It's too close…"
As they walked past a row of portraits, Elaina kept talking, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, some of the summoned heroes were complete disasters at first. One of them couldn't even hold a sword."
"Then how did they become heroes?"
"Someone believed in them."
That stopped him.
They exited the hall just as evening fell, the sky painted in gold and lavender. The sound of music drifted through the streets, lutes, harps, and soft drums leading them to a gathering at the central amphitheater. A crowd had formed around a bard, a young woman with silver hair, strumming a stringed instrument with worn fingers.
She sang in a low, haunting voice.
"He came from a world not our own,
With a heart burdened, heavy as stone.
A light in his hands, a thread not of fate,
He walked through the dark, arrived too late.
But the star bore witness to what he became,
And whispered: even the lost can earn a name."
The adventurer's breath caught.
A thread. A star. A name.
Elaina turned to him, noticing his expression. "Something wrong?"
He shook his head. "No. Just… listening."
They stayed till the song ended, and the bard's voice faded into the wind.
Later, they sat on a quiet bench overlooking the sleeping city. The stars began to appear, one by one, cold and distant.
"Do you think those old heroes were real?" the adventurer asked.
Elaina nodded. "Whether they were or not… someone needed to believe in them. That's how stories work. That's how hope survives."
He looked up. One star in particular caught his eye, brighter than the rest. He didn't know why, but it made him feel… watched. Not in a bad way. Just… seen.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"For walking with me."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I told you. I'm sticking around. You're interesting."
The wind picked up, carrying the bard's melody through the emptying streets once more.
"Even the lost will find their way…
If someone remembers their name."
The adventurer closed his eyes.
And wondered, who was he, really?
Who was he meant to become?
They eventually found a quiet inn tucked between two bakeries, its sign crooked and faded, but the soft glow from inside promised warmth. The innkeeper, an old man with sleepy eyes, gave them the last room on the second floor, with only one huge bed, clean sheets, and a small fireplace crackling gently in the corner.
Elaina plopped onto the bed immediately. "Ahhh, finally! My feet are threatening to divorce me."
The adventurer set their bags down and gave her a small smile. "You're dramatic."
She sat up and grinned. "Only because you're boring."
Later, after taking turns bathing, Elaina walked out of the washroom with a towel around her shoulders, steam still clinging to her hair. She yawned loudly and flopped back onto the bed, hair a tangled mess of silver.
"Y'know, I think I earned a royal treatment today. Maybe someone could brush my hair for me," she said, peeking at him from the corner of her eye.
He sat down beside her and picked up the wooden comb from the table. "Sit up. You'll sleep better if it's not tangled."
"Oho? You're being all responsible now? What are you, my dad?"
He started combing gently through her hair. "More like an older brother making sure his little sister doesn't catch a cold."
Elaina smirked. "Aw, how sweet. Big brother Adventurer, huh? Does that mean I get to be the spoiled little sibling who steals all your food?"
"You already do that."
She laughed. "That's true."
He worked through a knot carefully, focused. His touch was gentle, almost instinctive, and Elaina noticed the quiet thoughtfulness in his eyes.
"You know," he murmured, "I don't remember much… but doing this, it feels natural. Like something I used to do. Maybe for someone younger… someone I wanted to protect."
Elaina turned her head just slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. "Well, don't go getting all sentimental on me now. You'll ruin your cool, mysterious image."
He smiled faintly. "Too late for that."
When he finished, she stretched out on the bed, hair neatly fanned behind her like a silver curtain.
"You're really treating me like a little sister now," she said with a pout. "But I'm way too cute for that, you know. Maybe I'm secretly a long-lost princess."
He pulled the blanket over her. "Princesses don't steal bread rolls from market stalls."
"I returned it… eventually."
He shook his head, the smallest of chuckles escaping his lips. Then he turned off the lamp and lay beside her, keeping a respectful space between them.
"Good night, Elaina."
"Good night… Big Brother Adventurer."
There was a beat of silence. Then—
"Hey," she whispered with a grin. "If I call you 'dad' tomorrow morning in front of strangers, how mad would you be?"
"Don't test me."
She snorted into her pillow, her laughter light and satisfied. As sleep pulled them under, the last sound in the room was her soft humming—the bard's song, remembered and reshaped into something playful.
And for the first time in a long while, the adventurer felt what it might be like… to have a family.