NOVEL WEB Chapter 39 – Vernara Village (5)
Guest House, Vernara
The guest house was a low wooden structure nestled beside a moonlit stream, surrounded by glowing reeds and soft chimes that rang with the wind. The floor creaked faintly with every step, and the paper walls let the chill in.
A single flame danced in the center lantern, casting long shadows on their faces as they settled in for the night.
Khael sat by the window, arms folded, his gaze distant. The room felt quiet—but not peaceful. There was too much tension. Too much left unsaid.
He glanced at Ceyla, who sat on the tatami mat sharpening one of her blades, the sound rhythmic and sharp.
"You are… not really a temper person," Khael said.
Ceyla paused, looking up with a blank face.
"What?" she said flatly.
"Do I look like that to you, huh!?" she snapped a second later, frowning.
Before Khael could speak, Juno, lying on his side with a hand propping up his head, muttered:
"You are like that… I still can't forgive you for beating my fellow Taishin friend."
Ceyla scoffed, the whetstone dragging harder across her blade.
"It's his fault for looking down on me. Calling me mad."
Juno sat up, expression cold.
"Still, what you did was unacceptable. You nearly broke his jaw, Ceyla."
The tension in the air thickened.
Khael raised his hands between them. "Okay, okay—can we stop this argument? We're here for the mission."
Ceyla grunted, looking away. "Hmph."
The flame flickered.
Outside, the wind picked up, whispering through the reeds.
Khael rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breath.
Noah was curled up in the corner, already asleep, hugging his backpack like a pillow. Lin sat quietly near the door, her violet eyes watching the moonlight. Eliryn hadn't returned yet from her private meeting with Elder Lao.
They were safe… for now.
As the oil lamp dimmed, the wind howled once more, brushing the guest house walls like a whisper from the forest beyond. The room had mostly gone quiet now, Juno muttering in his sleep, Ceyla still awake but quiet, her back turned to the rest.
Khael laid down on his side, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling above.
His thoughts stirred.
(What really happened between Eliryn and Raiquen... What is their relationship?)
Eliryn had been evasive. Her cold demeanor wasn't just from distrust—there was something buried deeper. Pain? Regret? Or perhaps… a vow.
(Well... in the manga, Raiquen and the Crimson Roots were famous. A rogue group who split from the Veinwalkers, driven by a purpose no one fully understood...)
(But they all died.)
(Killed by the Voidborn, although it was never revealed who did it. The chapter just said they were erased)
(Anyway… I should sleep now. I'll think of this tomorrow.)
Outside, the moon dipped lower.
Inside, sleep took the party one by one.
But the scent of something old ancient still lingered in the Vernara wind.
…
Meanwhile, at the Village Head's House
A quiet tension lingered in the dim-lit room of Elder Lao, the scent of burning herbs mixing with old wood and distant storm.
Eliryn stood before the aged man still, composed, but her eyes distant.
Elder Lao placed a carved wooden seal onto the low table between them. The markings glowed faintly, reacting to her presence.
"That girl, Lin..." Elder Lao's voice cracked slightly, but his tone remained steady. "Is she ready for the ritual?"
Eliryn remained silent for a breath, then gave a small nod.
"Yes."
"Good…" Elder Lao leaned forward, the firelight catching the deep lines of his face. "Because we don't have time. Not before the Voidflare rises again."
A gust of wind rattled the old shutters, as if the name itself stirred the air.
He looked at her more intently now, eyes narrowing.
"And your seal? How's the containment?"
Eliryn hesitated, then answered, voice calm but lacking conviction.
"It's holding… for now."
The elder grunted—not from disbelief, but acceptance.
"Good. I don't want a Shade surfacing from your Bloom Affinity. You know what happens if it cracks again."
She gave a short nod.
"I remember."
But her gaze fell, shadowed with something like guilt. Or grief.
Meanwhile… on Raiquen side
Deep in the woods outside Vernara, beneath the hollowed trunk of an ancient bloodwood tree, Raiquen Veylthorn stood with his cloak half-unfastened, the sigils of the Crimson Roots glowing faintly along his spine. Around him, his squad moved in silence, preparing incense, binding marks, and barrier wards for the ritual to come.
The silence wasn't discomfort, it was practiced. Ritual. Discipline born of purpose.
Yet Raiquen's mind was elsewhere.
His fingers tightened around the stem of a vine-shaped focus charm, one used to harmonize affinities before rites. But he wasn't focusing on the charm.
He was remembering her.
[Memory – Years Ago]
The village square had been silent that day, too. But in a very different way.
Eliryn had stood in the center—kneeling. Her white robe stained at the knees from dust, her hands extended forward, trembling. Before her, the elders stood like statues, chanting incantations as if she weren't a person—but a vessel.
Her Shade Affinity had begun to bloom then, uncontrollable but beautiful—dark violet petals of energy spiraling around her, carrying with them illusions, whispers, even shadows of memories not her own.
They called it blasphemy.
They called it a threat.
So they sealed it.
And Eliryn…
Eliryn didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
She just went quiet.
As if part of her had agreed.
As if she believed them.
Raiquen's eyes narrowed.
He remembered watching from the edge of the courtyard. Powerless. Younger. Voiceless.
He remembered how the bloom in her eyes had faded that day—replaced by that quiet, polite smile she wears now. The same one she wore when she lied and said she was fine.
"She was forced to lock away what made her whole."
"All in the name of tradition."
Back in the present, the vines at Raiquen's feet shifted, responding to the emotion he buried beneath his voice.
(I will destroy this village,) Raiquen thought, standing still as the wind picked up.
(I will free you, Eliryn. From them. From this place. From everything that bound you.)
To be continue