"Ash Phantom: The Legend Reborn"

Morning light, the hue of liquid honey, drenched softly through the high, arched windows of Ryuki General Hospital, casting glimmering stripes upon the gleaming floors. The air, normally sterile, was faintly scented with the delicate, earthy smell of fresh herbs and a whiff of metallic-sweet ozone, a promise of hidden magic. Under the beds, water dripped with a calming, hypnotic whisper through a transparent glass conduit, its soft flow a special healing process known only to the city's most privileged mages.

Veon's eyelids blinked open, slow and leaden, as though emerging from a deep, rejuvenative slumber.

The room glowed dimly, filled with a warm, golden light that appeared to come from the air itself. He was supported by a magic water bed, its surface warm and flowing, shaping itself perfectly to his contours, relieving every tension. A gentle, glowing band encircled his head throbbed with a small, rhythmic glow, its magic invading his skull, dispersing the final remnants of pain.

His vision gradually cleared, focusing from a dreamy haze to a sharp reality. The first thing he saw—

His father, Ryden. Standing tall and powerful, even in the stillness of the hospital room, his battle cloak still folded back from his shoulders like the wings of a sleeping dragon. He filled the room with an aura of quiet strength.

Kaen, his brother, at his side, a huge, unbridled smile that went from ear to ear, his eyes alight with unashamed adoration.

And at their sides — a cluster of the city's greatest mages, their forms exuding an understated strength, attired in any number of magical regalia that softly glowed or shone with complex runes.

Veon had a weak, victorious smile. ".Father. I did it, you see?" His tone was a rasp, but sweetness from victory gave it away.

Ryden advanced, his normally stern eyes brimming with an emotion seldom exhibited, a blend of pride and utmost relief. He laid a hard, calloused palm on his son's shoulder, a display of utmost paternal love. "Yes, you did. You met the test, Veon. I'm proud of you. You've shown everyone, yourself, that you're an elite mage of Ryuki City. I'm blessed. To have a son like you."

Kaen all but bounced along with them, unable to suppress his boyish enthusiasm. "Big bro, you're great! When I'm 16, I wanna be as good as you!"

Veon smiled, a gentle, dry laugh. "Heh. No doubt, Kaen. One day you'll be stronger even than me."

A gentle, singing voice joined in from the edge of the bed.

Sia — one of the city's elite mages, stood there with poise and refined beauty. Her brown, curly locks glistened with a fine sprinkling of magic particles, reflecting the golden light. Her eyes were that brilliant, crystalline brown, that seemed like enchanted gemstones reflecting inner depths. A delicate silver staff lay in her hand, its tip pulsing softly, and sitting atop her shoulder.

"Meow. Meow."

A small white kitten with shimmering, pale wings slowly blinked at Veon, its tiny wings fluttering very slightly.

Sia gave a sophisticated, intelligent smile. "Well, little Veon. I didn't realize you could call up Zephyros. That's. Impressive. For your first actual battle victory—I'm glad for you."

Veon grinned, a real warmth filling him. "Thanks. I didn't even know I was capable."

Behind Sia stood Marco, another senior elite mage, older, eyes always keen, his manner straightforward and unyielding.

Marco's voice cut into the warm mood, and a sudden coldness. "Veon. Did you question him—Who he was? Why did he attack?"

The mood in the room changed suddenly, the golden light a little less bright. Veon was stared at by everyone in quiet, expectant glances, the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Veon breathed in deeply, the ache in his head lingering but forgotten in light of the memory. "His name was. Obara Rakuji. He came from his master — though I didn't get a chance to ask who that was. But. There was something else."

He stared down, his brows creased with focus, attempting to snare the slippery pieces of a transitory moment. "He told me. Three months. Someone would wake up. Someone significant. He told me. Ash Phantom."

Abruptly—

Ryden's eyes pinched into slits, a cutting, reflexive response. His face, generally impassive, grew taut with a sudden, deep unease.

Kaen's gasp caught in his throat, his initial exhilaration entirely dissipated, replaced by a growing fear.

Veon went on, his speech slow and measured, as if he were navigating through a maze with slow-moving feet. "And when I heard that name. Something occurred to me. A memory burst in my head, like a flash of recognition. But. I don't remember it now. It's like I know him, but I don't know how…"

Kaen spoke softly, his voice low, with a child's fear, "That same name. I heard it yesterday as well. In my room."

Ryden gazed downward, his eyes far away, his thoughts struggling with something deep. "I heard it too. And when I did, I felt something. Regret. Fear. Sorrow. Like an old, forgotten wound had been picked open."

Sia folded her arms, her crystal-brown eyes contemplative, searching the faces of Ryden and Veon. "That name. It has to be related to the Ryuki family. Maybe. Someone in history? Someone whose tale was lost from our records?"

Ryden nodded slowly, a grim certainty rising over him. "I think you're right. This sounds like an echo of a past that we were supposed to forget."

Just then, a nurse came in, her movements economical, carrying a radiant scroll. "Veon Ryuki — all reports are clean. Your magic channels are healthy, your recovery total. You are free to go home."

Veon let out a sigh of relief, the tension from his shoulders. "Thanks."

Ryden's face relaxed, a beaming smile returning. "You can't imagine, Veon. But the people are waiting outside for you. I don't think walking home will be easy."

Veon rose slowly, magic bed receding as he did, and drew aside the airy curtain hanging over the tall balcony window—

And saw, from the high angle:

A throng.

A huge, colorful ocean of faces poured out of the hospital, a rainbow of hues and features. Cheers swelled, a rolling tide of sound that crashed against them, dotted with the waving of banners, the soft fall of drifting petals that reflected morning light, and screams of abandon.

"You're our hero!"

"That's Veon Ryuki!"

"So adorable!"

"So sexy!"

"Thanks for avenging my son." cried an old lady, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears but now aglow with a tearful, happy smile.

Ryden-- kid you killed the S class Thread, you deserve that praise..

Ryden swept his hand, and an amazing flying cart — charmed with complex golden runes that glowed with a gentle light, floated down from the air. Its shining surface reflected the sunlight. The three of them [ veon, ryden, kaen] mounted it, the jeers of the crowd rising around them.

They rose smoothly into the air, soaring above the crowd in adoration.

Across the street, in the profound shade of a brightly colored candy shop window, nearly engulfed by the noisy vibrancy of the street:

Okabaru Vincent, in plain, flowing white robes, sat lounging on a low bench, a stick of rock candy idly dangling from his lips, his golden eyes taking in the sight with an unreadable sheen.

Next to him — Toji, unexpectedly calm, his head resting on a pile of rainbow-colored candy racks, his normal intensity softened by an unusual moment of rest.

Okabaru observed the flying cart ascend, his eyes firm, tracking its path. "Huh. If praise brings happiness. Love brings heart." He cracked his candy stick with an exaggerated slowness. "But unfortunately, the people of this city. Don't realize love. They praise the powerful ones. But they forget about the weak ones."

Toji, blankly gazing at the street, muttered, "Yeah. Because they don't have a heart."

Okabaru smiled, a glimmer of naughty humor, and ruffled Toji's hair like a good puppy. "Ah. Wonderful response, Toji."

Toji scowled, a spark of his typical annoyance reviving. His candy, neglected, fell from his fingers and clunked softly onto the ground. "Sensei, why must you be so dramatic again?"

Somewhere on the outskirts of the city, where the wind whispers brought whispers of lullabies long past, Auren sat by himself. His legs hung off the worn cliffside, a wobbly ledge over the world, as the relentless wind threaded its fingers through his black hair, pulling the strands like an invisible sculptor.

He looked out over the broad panorama of Ryuki City, a jewel box gradually coming to light as twilight fell. The city landscape glowed with a gentle, otherworldly light, each of them a faraway heartbeat. Above, the cloud rails sparkled, pearlescent ribbons against the darkening indigo. Along these shining tracks, Sky Trains moved in a silent, regal composure, their silhouettes etching brief arcs through the shining arches that arced across the sky. Below, Crimson Town glowed, its crystal roadways reflecting the fading remains of daylight, scattering them into a thousand shattered rainbows. In the far horizon, the park's floating islands bobbed along with an almost dreamy tranquility, like enormous, glowing leaves drifting on a peaceful, invisible stream.

"I want to leave. I have to go to Hollow Mountain… and as soon as possible." His voice was but a whisper, a thin breath of sound carried away by the enormity of the wind, devoured by the increasing silence of the evening.

"I don't belong here. This city — it's lovely, yes. But it is a cage of golden bars. A place where I'm… unwanted." He clung to the jagged edge of the cliff face, his knuckles white as snow against the shadows deepening across the stone, a tangible expression of the pain in his heart. And yet, a gentle, wistful smile played upon his lips, a brief shadow of warmth.

"But I'm glad for you, Veon. You're enjoying your moment. Everyone adores you. You're the epitome of all that a Ryuki heir should be." Auren took a great, shuddering breath, the cold air filling his chest, a stark contrast to the smoldering ashes of his repressed desires.

"I believe I should go. Only a few days more… I require a proper road map. A few provisions. Then I am off." He leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to wander upwards, enjoying the canvas of the dark sky now speckled with the first tentative stars.

"It's so lovely tonight…" The words were a soft awed silence. A soft, whispering breeze, carrying the faint scent of distant blossoms and damp earth, rustled past, making the tall grasses around him sway in gentle obeisance. He looked out upon the marvels below, every view a poignantly bitter memory: the airborne parks where he'd rediscovered peace in stolen naps, sleeping under the cover of simulated stars; the Tower of Light where celebrations burst into blinding showers of light and sound, filling the nighttime sky with fleeting radiance; the cloudways along which one might walk and believe one could grasp the very stars, a god among men.

He whispered names, each a soft, lingering farewell, a wish to the wind: "The carrot shop uncle… Kaen… Dad… and most of all Mom. She's the only one who ever loved me here." His eyes blazed with an unshed grief, a deep, quiet well of feeling that would not overflow.

Just then — a voice, crystalline and musical, like the tinkle of crystal bells on a gusty night: "Hey! Who's there?"

Auren blinked, shocked, and whirled about too fast. He staggered perilously, his equilibrium wavering, the endless chasm below suddenly appearing to tilt up. He almost fell.

A surprisingly strong and fast hand grasped his wrist just in time. "Hey hey hey! Careful!" the girl shrieked, her voice full of real alarm, yanking him back from the edge with an unexpected amount of strength. "Are you attempting to fall to your death?!"

Auren wheezed, his chest pumping, struggling to catch his breath, the adrenaline running through his veins. "T-Thanks… I almost—"

He finally glanced at her properly. She was. Breathtaking. Her age, a year or two younger than his. Her soft yellow dress, the color of the first light of dawn, blew softly in the wind around her knees. Her blue shining eyes sparkled with an inner radiance, like moonlit lakewater reflecting the sky, full of unexpected depth of warmth and inquiry. Hidden among her hair, just above her ear, was a tiny pink flower that glowed softly in the growing moonlight, as if made of stardust itself.

She cocked her head, the look on her face a teasing mixture of worry and humor. "So… Who are you?"

Auren parted his lips, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears rushing around him. And then he faltered, an odd emptiness briefly obscuring his mind.

"I… I'm…"

He blinked, a flash of real panic.

"Wait. Who… am I?"

The panic had only a momentary grasp, a momentary shadow in his head. Then a surge of recognition, almost laughable in its abruptness.

"Oh right! I'm Auren!" he shouted with the joy of discovery, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

She blinked slowly, her eyes sparkling blue. "You completely just fabricated that just now, didn't you?" she said matter-of-factly, her voice edged with laughter.

"No no! I promise! I am Auren!" he protested, a flush spreading to his face.

"Uh-huh," she smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Sure. Just like I'm Rose because— " she touched the airy pink flower in her hair, "—you know, rose?"

Auren raised an eyebrow, a mischievous challenge flashing in his eyes. "Wait a second. You did invent yours!"

"Excuse me?" she replied, pretending to be offended, her voice full of pretended outrage. Then, unable to help herself, she let out a clear, ringing laugh that carried softly through the evening air. "You're so funny, Auren."

Auren rubbed the back of his neck, a genuine smile replacing his earlier tension. "Am I? I guess… yeah. Heh."

They stood there for an instant, a girl and a boy on a cliff over a dreaming fairy city bathed in the soft light of twilight. The moon, a shining pearl, climbed higher in the sky, casting a silver gleam over the country. The clouds above shimmered with quiet power, echoing the faraway city lights.

And deep inside Auren's heart, the aching, all-pervasive sorrow he'd borne all day, a weight of loneliness and yearning, eased — slightly, as if an insistent shadow at last felt the touch of light.