StarRail: The Pathless Traveler

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"He's here! He's here! He's here!"

Vance leapt off the couch in the living room, excitement propelling him toward his mother. She stood near the doorway, her long, smooth black hair cascading down her back—a rare trait among Korvans. It was a trait Vance had inherited, one that often made him feel special.

"Mother! He's back!"

She smiled softly and placed a gentle hand on his head, ruffling his hair. "Why don't you open the door for him this time?"

Vance's eyes widened, sparkling with joy. His mother had never let him greet Father first before—not because she forbade it, but because she would always rush to the door herself, eager to welcome her husband home. Vance would follow behind, trailing her heels.

But this time… this time, she was letting him go first.

Just last week, while they were shopping for the reunion dinner—a tradition every time Father came home—he had confided in her how much he wanted to be the one to open the door, to be the first face Father saw.

And now, his wish was coming true.

Without hesitation, Vance darted to the front door, his small legs pumping as fast as they could. The door felt enormous, almost towering, but Vance wasn't deterred. He had always been strong for his age—taller, faster, and more capable than the other boys in their neighborhood.

He reached for the handle and swung the door open with ease.

Standing on the threshold was a man—a familiar face, though not the one he had hoped for. The man had short brown hair and wore a dark uniform with faint, lighter accents tracing its seams. Vance recognized him; this man often accompanied his father when he returned. They'd shared meals together before, but it was hard to remember exactly when—last year, maybe?

The man's face was cold and unreadable, his gaze fixed straight ahead. But as his eyes dropped to meet Vance's, his expression wavered. His lips tightened, and his eyes seemed to twitch, as though fighting against an invisible weight.

The man quickly looked away, his gaze shifting past the boy and into the house.

"Elaina," he called out, his voice low and strained. "It's me."

Vance heard the hurried footsteps of his mother approaching.

"Malric?" she asked, confusion laced in her tone. "What are you—"

Her words trailed off as her eyes fell to the object in the man's outstretched hand.

Dangling from a thin chain was a metal tag, engraved with familiar markings.

"I'm sorry…" Malric's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "He was… a great man."

Vance turned to his mother. She stared at the tag, her expression crumpling into something he had never seen before. Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees.

"Mother?" Vance asked, his voice trembling.

Tears streamed down her face, silent at first, before a quiet sob escaped her lips.

Something was wrong.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Father always came home. Every six months, he would leave to fight the bad guys, to be a hero. And then, like clockwork, he would return.

He always came home.

So why…?

Why wasn't he here?

"Where is he?" Vance whispered, his voice breaking.

The silence from Malric was deafening.

"Where is Father?" Vance asked again, louder this time, his chest tightening.

But there was no answer.

There would be no answer.

Because his father never came home that day.