GUHIN

As Guhin entered the village, the rich aroma of herbs and spices filled the air, mingling with the lively tunes of flutes and drums that echoed through the streets. The cobblestone pathways were bustling with activity; vendors haggled over prices, children weaved through the crowds playing games, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby bakery.

Yet, despite the vibrant atmosphere, Guhin kept to himself. The villagers, once accustomed to his frequent visits, had grown used to his annual appearances instead. Though his presence was familiar, they offered him no greetings. In the past, he would visit often, even lingering long enough to share a few words. But over the years, his visits had grown briefer, and the villagers knew better than to strike up a conversation. His reputation preceded him—he was quiet, solitary, and not one for idle chatter.

As he walked through the marketplace, Guhin’s eyes fell on a new stall that hadn’t been there during his previous visits. The stand was filled with wooden masks, each carved with different expressions, some joyful, others grim, and a few that were downright bizarre. The masks were arranged in neat rows, hanging from strings as their hollow eyes staring out at the passing villagers.

The owner of the stand was a very skinny, eerie-looking man, his thin frame almost skeletal beneath his ragged clothing. He wore one of the masks from his display, but his was different—a weathered piece of craftsmanship. The wood was darkened and polished to a near-glossy finish, as if years of wear had melded it with the very skin beneath. The mask clung to his face as though it were a natural extension of his features. Only his wide, unblinking eyes were visible through the open sockets. The man stood motionless behind his display, his unsettling gaze fixed on Guhin the moment he approached.

Around the stand, a group of children played, giggling as they tried on the masks, taking turns to scare each other. One boy put on a mask with a twisted grin and jumped out at his friends, who screamed in mock terror before bursting into laughter. Another girl picked a mask with exaggeratedly large eyes and pretended to be a ghost, waving her arms dramatically as the others watched in delight.

Seeing their innocent play brought a rare smile to Guhin’s face. He paused for a moment, watching the children as they lost themselves in their game, their laughter ringing through the market. It was a fleeting moment of peace, a reminder of simpler times.

But as Guhin turned to continue his walk, the smile faded from his lips. A strange sense of unease crept over him. Glancing back at the stall, he noticed that the mask seller’s gaze was still locked onto him—wide and unblinking behind the wooden mask. The man hadn’t moved, but there was something different about his stillness now, something more deliberate. It felt as though the playful air around the stall had shifted.

For a brief moment, Guhin saw the children pause in their game. One of them, the boy with the grinning mask, stood perfectly still, his head tilted slightly as if listening to something no one else could hear. Then, just as quickly as the moment passed, the boy resumed his laughter and play, running after his friends once more.

Guhin’s steps didn’t falter, but the eerie feeling lingered as he moved further away from the stand. The owner remained still, his eyes tracking Guhin until he was out of sight, leaving a lingering tension in the air.

Pushing the odd encounter to the back of his mind, Guhin pressed on through the market. The vibrant sounds and scents surrounded him once more, though the unsettling gaze of the mask seller remained a shadow in his thoughts.

As he walked through the marketplace, his sharp eyes caught sight of a young farmer girl sprinting towards one of the guards stationed near the entrance. Her long, blond hair flowed behind her as she ran, her face beaming with excitement.

“Shin! Shin!” she called out, waving her hands frantically to get the guard’s attention.

The guard, a tall man with a weathered face and fiery ginger hair, stood by the large gates, scanning the crowds for any signs of trouble. His skin was pale, almost like white silk, contrasting sharply with his bright hair. He glanced down at the girl but didn’t respond, his gaze quickly returning to his duty.

“Shin!” she called again, this time more insistently. But when the guard continued to ignore her, she stopped a few paces away, catching her breath. Determination flickered in her eyes as she brought her hands together, concentrating.

A small orb of fire, formed above her open palm. Its light danced in the reflection of her wide, hopeful eyes. She held it up triumphantly for the guard to see.

Shin’s eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the hovering flame. “By the gods… You did it!” he exclaimed, his stern demeanor melting into one of genuine astonishment.

The girl grinned from ear to ear, her face glowing with pride. “I did, Shin! I’ve awakened my magic!”

The guard knelt to examine the orb more closely, his expression one of admiration. “That’s incredible, Thera! It’s rare to see someone in Aryan awaken to magic, especially so young. You’ve been blessed.”

Thera’s cheeks flushed with happiness as she allowed the flame to dissipate, returning her palm to normal. “Do you think I could join the academy now? I want to learn more—maybe even become a real mage one day!”

Shin smiled warmly and ruffled her hair. “Aye, if you keep practicing like this, there’s no doubt about it. The elders will be thrilled to hear of this.”

As the guard congratulated the girl, Guhin watched the scene from a distance. The display of magic in such a humble village was a rare sight indeed, yet, he continued on his path, blending into the flow of the villagers, his thoughts turning back to the reason he had come to Aryan.

He came to a stop at a wooden lift, its sturdy frame creaking as it descended from the cliffside, the familiar sounds of Aryan's bustling marketplace gradually faded behind him. The lift, powered by a simple pulley system and operated by two elderly men, was designed to ferry visitors from the lower village to the main plaza. Guhin stepped onto the platform, nodding to the operators as they began to crank the handle, raising the lift with a groan of wood and rope.

The ascent was smooth, and as the lift reached the top, Guhin stepped off, greeted by the sight of Aryan’s grand plaza. The heart of the village sprawled before him, a wide-open space bordered by towering pillars—walls etched with the first trades of Aryan, their stories carved meticulously into the stone, preserving the village's rich history for all to see.

At the center of the plaza stood a large belltower, its structure weathered by time but still standing tall. The bell within tolled with each passing hour, marking the rhythm of daily life in Aryan. Surrounding the tower were numerous market stands, each boasting a variety of goods, finely crafted weapons and armor, vibrant fabrics, intricate jewelry, and an array of colorful produce. These were the stands that held the higher valued items.

Guhin’s gaze was drawn to a particular stall at the edge of the plaza, where a vendor was showcasing a magnificent beast being roasted on a spit. The creature was massive, its thick hide crackling as it rotated over an open flame. The air was thick with the aroma of sizzling fat and melting juices, causing Guhin’s mouth to water. The vendor, a burly man with a sweat-streaked face, was carving off generous slabs of meat, each slice revealing the tender, succulent flesh beneath.

Guhin’s eyes widened as he recognized the beast, a rare creature from the southern wilds called Yoksan, it looked more like a horned cow than anything and is known for its rich, flavorful meat. The sight was mesmerizing, the fat rendering in the fire, sending up plumes of fragrant smoke. The villagers gathered around the stand, eagerly awaiting their portions, their faces alight with anticipation.

But as Guhin admired the spectacle, his keen eyes caught sight of a group of cats slinking through the crowd. The sleek, nimble creatures approached the meat stand with practiced stealth, their eyes gleaming with mischief. As the vendor turned his back to serve a customer, one of the cats leaped onto the cutting board, snatching a freshly sliced piece of meat in its jaws.

The other cats quickly followed suit, each grabbing a portion before darting off into the shadows, their tails flicking with satisfaction. The entire act took mere seconds, and by the time the vendor turned back, the cutting board was empty, leaving the owner shouting after them in fury.

“That does it!” the owner yelled, his face flushed with anger. “I’ve had it with these damn animals! How can anyone make a living with these thieving fleabags, roaming around?!”

The cats were clearly seasoned thieves, their timing impeccable. Guhin watched as the cats scattered into the crowd, their stolen prizes clutched tightly in their mouths. But among them, he noticed one cat, grey-furred, limping behind. It struggled to keep up with its companions, and he wondered if it had been trampled by the crowd. Slowly, it made its way toward an empty basket at the side of the plaza, seeking refuge from the bustling chaos.

With a quiet resolve, Guhin followed the limping cat. The animal reached the basket and attempted to hide inside, its injured paw twitching with pain. Guhin approached cautiously and opened the basket. The cat hissed at him, its eyes wide with fear, but once it met Fukujin's beady eyes that resembled the void of an abyss. Slowly, it bowed its head. Guhin reached in and carefully picked up the grey-furred cat by its nape, cradling it with a practiced hand. As he held the trembling cat close, Guhin knew who it belonged to.

“I’ll take you to your friends.” Guhin murmured. The cat nestled into the folds of his clothing, its fear subsiding as it felt the warmth of his body. As Guhin moved deeper into the village, his eyes caught a flash of white lightning crackling through the clouds above. So soon. He thought to himself as he quickened his pace, the village’s lively sounds fading as he ventured into the quieter alleys outside the plaza, towards the back end of the village. Where the alleyways narrowed and the surroundings grew simpler, reflecting the poorer class of Aryan.

A familiar voice echoed down the narrow street, causing Guhin to stop in his tracks.

“Where’s Ikaya?” The voice filled with concern.

Guhin peeked around the corner, and his breath caught in his throat. He was surprised to see how much Ishu had grown. The last time Guhin had seen him, Ishu had been a small, scrappy child, but now he looked taller, more confident, and with a maturity that startled Guhin.

“What do you mean you don’t know?! Never leave someone behind, you know that!” the boy exclaimed, his voice rising with urgency. “Tsk, alright then, I'll get'er myself. You guys go share the food with the others.”

Before the boy could move, Guhin stepped into his path, his presence halting the search. The boy froze, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes met the familiar figure before him.

“…It’s been a while… Ishu,” Guhin said, his voice gentle but burdened with the weight of time.

But instead of rushing forward, Ishu froze in place, his expression shifting from shock to something darker. His eyes, once wide with disbelief, narrowed as a wave of conflicting emotions swept over him. He looked down, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“You…” Ishu’s voice trembled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to meet Guhin's eyes.

Guhin’s expression softened, sensing the boy’s turmoil. “Ishu, I—”

Before Guhin could finish, Ishu reached into his robe with a sudden, sharp movement, pulling out a makeshift slingshot. His hands shook as he aimed it directly at Guhin, his face twisted with a mix of pain and defiance.

Guhin remained still, his gaze steady but filled with understanding. He knew he deserved this. After these years of absence, of leaving Ishu to fend for himself, the boy had every right to be angry.

“Ishu…” Guhin began, but the words caught in his throat as he saw the tears welling up in the boy’s eyes.

Ishu hesitated, his fingers trembling around the slingshot. But after a moment of internal struggle, he released the shot. The small rock hurtled through the air toward Guhin’s face.

Guhin’s hands moved instinctively, ready to deflect the stone. But he stopped himself, lowering his hands in a gesture of acceptance. The rock shattered harmlessly against his cheek, leaving no mark, but the impact of the gesture was profound.

As the rock crumbled to the ground, Ishu’s anger seemed to dissolve with it. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. He dropped the slingshot, his breath hitching as he took a stumbling step forward.

Ishu finally gave in to his emotions. The boy ran towards him, collapsing into his embrace with a heart-wrenching sob. He clung to Guhin with all his strength, his tears soaking into the fabric of Guhin’s robes.

“I hate you…” Ishu whispered, his voice breaking as he buried his face against Guhin’s chest. “I hate you for leaving me…”

Guhin held him close, his own heart heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, Ishu,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry…”

As they stood there, locked in a heartfelt embrace, the world seemed to pause for a moment, a quiet reunion in the midst of the ever-moving village.

GUHIN!