The road was long.
Dust followed each step as two figures walked beneath a quiet sky—one tall, one small.
Sora said nothing.
Not because he was told to.
But because he didn't know what to say.
The man in the worn cloak walked ahead of him, steady and unhurried, as if the destruction they had just left behind was nothing more than another passing sight.
Sora followed.
Step after step.
The smell of smoke still clung faintly to his clothes.
Even as the wind tried to carry it away.
They walked for hours.
Through empty roads.
Past abandoned watchtowers.
Across fields that had long since stopped growing crops.
Eventually—
the scenery began to change.
The ground softened.
Grass returned.
Trees stood tall once more, their leaves whispering gently in the wind.
Life.
It was the first time Sora had seen it since—
He stopped thinking.
Instead, he looked up.
The sky was clearer here.
Bluer.
Wider.
"…Sora."
The boy blinked.
He hadn't realized the man had stopped walking.
Sora almost bumped into him.
"What?" he asked.
The man glanced down slightly.
"You're staring again."
Sora looked back at the sky.
"…It's big."
The man exhaled softly.
"…Yeah."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the man continued walking.
Sora followed.
By the time the sun began to fall, they reached a small clearing.
At its center stood a simple wooden cabin.
Old.
Quiet.
Surrounded by trees that swayed gently in the evening wind.
The man stepped forward and pushed the door open.
"Inside."
Sora walked in.
The cabin smelled of wood and ash.
A small fireplace sat in one corner. A table, two chairs, and a few shelves filled with scattered items completed the space.
It wasn't much.
But it was alive.
The man placed his cloak aside and set his sword down carefully.
Sora watched him.
"…Do you live here?" he asked.
"Sometimes."
"That doesn't answer it."
"It's enough of an answer."
Sora didn't question it further.
Instead, he walked toward the window.
Outside, the sky was turning orange.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
So different from the battlefield.
"…Why did you take me?" Sora asked suddenly.
The man paused.
Then he moved toward the fireplace.
"…Because you were alive."
"That's it?"
The man crouched down and lit the fire.
Flames flickered to life.
Warm.
Controlled.
Unlike the ones Sora had seen before.
"…That's enough reason."
Sora watched the fire.
It moved differently.
Not wild.
Not destructive.
It listened.
The man stood up again.
"…Sit."
Sora sat.
The man grabbed a cup and filled it with water before placing it in front of him.
"Drink."
Sora did.
Silence filled the cabin again.
Then—
"…What was that?" Sora asked.
The man glanced at him.
"What?"
Sora pointed toward the fire.
"That."
The man stared at the flames for a moment.
"…Aether."
Sora tilted his head.
"…Aether?"
The man nodded.
"It's what people use to shape the world."
Sora blinked.
"…Shape it?"
The man extended his hand.
The flame in the fireplace flickered—
then shifted.
It bent slightly.
Moved unnaturally.
As if responding to his will.
Sora leaned forward slightly.
"…You're controlling it."
"Yes."
"…How?"
The man lowered his hand.
The flame returned to normal.
"…By understanding it."
Sora frowned slightly.
"I don't get it."
The man looked at him.
"…Most people don't at first."
Sora stared at the fire again.
"…Can I do that?"
The man didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped closer.
"…Show me your hand."
Sora raised it.
Small.
Unsteady.
The man placed his hand lightly over it.
"…Focus."
Sora blinked.
"On what?"
"…On yourself."
Sora frowned.
"That doesn't help."
"…Try anyway."
Sora looked at his hand.
Then closed his eyes.
Silence filled the cabin.
For a moment—
nothing happened.
Then—
a faint flicker.
A spark.
Small.
Barely visible.
Then—
FWOOSH.
A burst of flame exploded from Sora's hand.
Wild.
Violent.
Uncontrolled.
The fire shot outward—
slamming into the wall.
The wood scorched instantly.
Sora's eyes snapped open.
"What—?!"
The flame vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
The cabin fell silent again.
Smoke rose slowly from the burned mark on the wall.
Sora stared at his hand.
"…I didn't mean to do that."
The man looked at the scorched wall.
Then back at Sora.
"…I know."
Sora's fingers trembled slightly.
"…What was that?"
The man crossed his arms.
"…Your aether."
Sora looked up.
"…That was mine?"
"Yes."
Sora stared at his hand again.
"…It felt… weird."
"Unstable."
Sora nodded.
"…Yeah."
The man watched him carefully.
"…You don't control it."
Sora looked back at him.
"…Then how do I?"
The man shook his head slightly.
"…That's the problem."
Silence.
The fire in the fireplace crackled softly.
Sora lowered his hand.
"…So I can't use it?"
The man walked back toward the table.
"…Not properly."
Sora frowned.
"…Then what's the point of it?"
The man glanced at him.
"…You're alive because of it."
Sora didn't understand that.
Not fully.
But he didn't ask again.
Instead—
he clenched his fist.
"…Then I'll just get stronger without it."
The man paused.
"…Without it?"
Sora nodded.
"I don't need it."
His voice was quiet.
But firm.
"I'll just use this."
He raised his other hand.
Then stood up slightly—
and punched the air.
The motion was clumsy.
But determined.
The man watched him.
For a moment—
there was silence.
Then—
"…You're stubborn."
Sora blinked.
"…Is that bad?"
The man turned away slightly.
"…No."
His voice was calm.
"…It might be the only thing that keeps you alive."
Sora sat back down.
"…So what now?"
The man picked up his sword.
"…Now?"
He looked at Sora.
"…You learn how to fight."
Sora's eyes lit up slightly.
"…Without aether?"
The man shook his head.
"…With or without it."
Then he stepped toward the door.
"…Tomorrow."
Sora looked at the fire again.
Then at his hand.
The memory of the wild flame still lingered.
Unstable.
Uncontrolled.
Dangerous.
"…Aether…"
He whispered softly.
The word felt heavy.
Like something he didn't understand—
but couldn't ignore.
Outside—
the sky darkened slowly.
And inside the quiet cabin—
a small, unstable flame had just been born.