In the peaceful city of Agartha, time moved like a lazy stream.
Tucked between the southern spine of the Valon Alps and the deep stretch of the Blackwood, it endured like it always had—silent, watchful, untouched.
Towering walls circled the city in unbroken lines, lined with heavy ballistae that never rusted, never slept.
High above, a translucent veil rippled in the light—a barrier that sensed the danger long before it could touch the ground.
No military had ever crossed those walls.
Not once.
Inside, life flowed differently.
It had been a week—perhaps two, since the accident.
In that time, Karma had begun piecing together the world around him.
Through Leena's patient words and ever-gentle presence, he learned of the names, faces, and places that once held meaning.
She spoke to him often, filling the silence with stories—some lighthearted, some quiet, all stitched with a tenderness that never wavered.
And though she told him much, there were a lot still left unsaid.
Physically, Karma had recovered well.
His strength returned faster than expected, though not without effort.
The bruises had faded, the soreness dulled, and his body, while unfamiliar in motion, began to obey him again.
But the mind—that was slower to heal.
---
A cold breeze slipped through the open window, tugging at the loose curtains as it spilled into the room.
Close behind it followed the first of the golden morning light, falling squarely across his face.
Karma stirred.
His eyes opened halfway before he pushed himself up, sitting at the edge of the bed.
The room felt still.
Too still.
The door creaked softly.
Oh—you're awake already. I was just coming to get you.
Leena stepped in, her voice light, steady.
She paused, studying him for a heartbeat before her expression softened.
How are you feeling today?
Better...
Karma murmured, his voice low, eyes still heavy with sleep.
She studied him for a moment, then smiled.
Since your injuries are all healed now, wanna head out today? I'll show you around...
[Outside huh...]
He gave a small nod.
Great! Get ready then—I'll be waiting for you outside.
She stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her.
It would be his first time, since the accident.
Until now, the world had only existed in words.
He rose and made his way to wash. By the time he returned, fresh from the bath, a set of clothes had been laid neatly on the bed.
Of course.
Leena.
He dressed in silence.
Layer by layer.
The clothes fit perfectly, as if they were made for him.
He buttoned the dark shirt, pulled on the trousers, and laced his tan boots tight.
He reached for the charcoal coat. It draped past his knees, settling with a comfortable weight across his shoulders.
To finish, he looped a soft, light-grey scarf around his neck.
A sudden knock broke the silence.
Come in...
Karma said, his voice firming as he adjusted his coat.
Leena stepped inside, her hands hidden behind her back.
She gazed at him for a long moment, her expression a mix of admiration and a deep, lingering fondness.
It's good to see you like this... again,
she said, her voice carrying a soft, steady warmth.
Karma caught the subtle shift in her posture.
What are you hiding?
he asked, a trace of curiosity breaking through his guarded tone.
With a small, careful movement, she revealed a weapon—a sword that looked more like a relic than a common weapon.
It was encased in a pristine white sheath, untouched by time.
The guard was carved with precise, symmetrical patterns, and at its center, a single crystal-like gemstone caught the morning light, fracturing the glow across the room.
[A weapon? Or a relic?]
Karma wondered, his eyes locked on the blade.
Does it stir anything?
she asked, her voice hopeful.
Any memories?
He looked at the sword, then back at her.
There was no spark of recognition—no flash of the past.
He simply shook his head.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Leena's face, but she masked it quickly with a practiced smile.
It's alright,
she said, holding it out to him.
Consider it a lucky charm for now. Keep it with you... like you always used to.
Though the confusion remained, Karma took the weapon and fastened it to his side.
He turned and walked past her, his boots echoing against the floorboards.
He stepped out of the room.
Out of the house.
And for the first time since losing almost everything, Karma stepped into the world.
The world outside was louder than he remembered—if he remembered it at all.
He paused, eyes adjusting—not to the light, but to the movement.
People.
Voices.
The quiet rhythm of a city already awake.
[The air outside feels different, almost alive...]
As they walked, the air was filled with the scent of baked bread and pine.
At first, it was nothing unusual.
Stone paths, open stalls, the distant clang of metal.
But then—
Good morning, Karma!
an elderly woman called out from a fruit stall, tucking two polished red apples into his hands before he could even protest.
Get well soon! My child.
Before he could say anything the lady already walked by.
A blacksmith paused his hammer to give a solemn, respectful nod; a group of children stopped their game to wave.
More followed.
Nods.
Greetings.
Small offerings.
Warm looks that lingered just a moment longer than usual.
Not pity.
Something else.
Something… genuine.
Though the details of his "accident" remained locked behind closed doors, the news of his memory loss had clearly travelled through the town like a wildfire.
Yet, there was no pity in their eyes—only a fierce, protective warmth.
Karma glanced at Leena.
She didn't say anything.
Just walked beside him, a faint smile on her face.
[They… know me.]
The realisation settled slowly.
[No… they care.]
A strange warmth stirred in his chest.
Unfamiliar.
But not unwelcome.
The Greylock Guild stood tall among the surrounding buildings, its stone front marked with deep carvings worn smooth by time.
The moment they stepped through the heavy oak doors, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Louder.
Livelier.
Look who's back!
A voice rang out before they had even stepped fully in.
Heads turned.
Chairs scraped.
Someone laughed.
Still breathing, huh?
Another voice followed, lighter this time.
Karma barely had time to react before a hand clapped against his shoulder.
Good to have you back.
Tankards were raised.
To Karma!
The room echoed with it.
Leena leaned slightly toward him.
They've been waiting.
Karma stood there for a moment, caught in it.
The noise.
The warmth.
The familiarity he couldn't feel—but somehow understood.
[Was I… like this with them?]
He gave a small nod.
Thanks.
It was simple.
But it was enough.
They moved quickly to the adjacent Auction House.
The auction house was quieter.
Refined.
Glass displays.
Polished wood.
Low murmurs instead of laughter.
Weapons rested like sleeping things behind protective barriers.
Blades, rings, fragments of something older than the city itself.
Karma paused in front of one.
A dagger.
Dark.
Smooth.
Almost… watching.
Most of these are recovered from ruins,
Leena said softly.
Or traded from outside regions.
He nodded, though his attention drifted.
Nothing called to him.
Not really.
They didn't stay long.
As they neared the city's heart, a low thrum began to vibrate through the soles of Karma's boots.
A low rumble at first.
Then louder.
Then unmistakable.
A crowd.
Leena glanced at him.
Ready?
Karma looked ahead.
The sound alone made something stir inside him.
Excitement.
Or something close to it.
…Yeah.
The Grand Arena opened before them like a living thing.
The sheer scale of it stole Karma's breath.
Below, in the sand-dusted circle, a duel was already in progress.
Sound crashed over him the moment they stepped inside.
Cheers.
Shouts.
The sharp ring of steel cutting through it all.
At the center—
Two figures.
Blades clashed.
Fast.
Precise.
One swordsman moved with the scorching intensity of the blessing of fire element.
His blade leaving trails of embers that hissed in the air.
His opponent was a blur of motion, riding the Air currents to dodge and strike with gale-force precision.
They weren't just fighters; they were artists, weaving their sword arts into their elemental domains.
Karma watched,
Mesmerized.
He saw the healers standing in the wings, their hands glowing with soft light, ready to intervene.
He saw the way the Air-user finally caught a thermal, spinning into a vertical strike that ended the match in a burst of pressure.
Incredible!
Karma whispered.
The crowd erupted.
The man with the Air ability stood victorious.
Breathing steady.
Unshaken.
He lowered his blade as attendants rushed in, coin exchanged hands, and healers moved toward the fallen without panic.
The crowd's roar for the victor slowly died down as the sand was cleared.
The announcer's voice boomed, but suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.
The crowd quieted slightly.
A man stepped into the center of the arena.
He was a towering, menacing figure clad in matte-black armour that seemed to swallow the sunlight.
He turned his head slowly toward the stands, his gaze scanning the rows of people until it locked onto a single point.
He raised his arm.
And pointed.
Straight into the crowd.
A heavy silence fell over the stadium.
A pause.
A beat of confusion.
Then—
Karma felt it.
That line.
That direction.
That intent.
His chest tightened slightly.
[He's… pointing at—]
Leena turned.
Her expression shifted.
Just enough.
The crowd followed the gesture.
Murmurs began to spread.
And then—
Silence.
The finger remained steady.
Unmoving.
Locked onto him.
To be continued...