Kūga stood amidst the desolate village, surveying the aftermath of the battle. Silence settled around him, broken only by the occasional rustling of wind as it carried sand across the barren land.
His gaze lingered on the broken bodies scattered across the ground—the dead, their lives cut short by brutality and mistreatment. He felt a pang of remorse, not for the slavers, but for the innocent people caught in this horrific nightmare, reduced to nothing more than shadows of their former selves.
He exhaled slowly, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders.
The air around him began to shift, a faint shimmer of Aether pulsating from his body. He closed his eyes, extending his senses.
The threads of Aether responded to his command, weaving together in intricate patterns as they wrapped around the lifeless bodies. One by one, the corpses began to rise, lifted gently off the ground as if cradled by invisible hands.
Kūga's movements were slow, deliberate, as he guided the procession of the dead, their forms hovering eerily in the air behind him.
The few remaining slaves watched in stunned silence, too weak to speak or react. Some of them flinched at the sight, their trauma too fresh, but Kūga moved with a calm authority, his mind set on honoring the fallen in the only way he knew how.
(Dunno if this is cringe or not)
He led the silent parade far beyond the ruins of the village, to a clearing nestled between the dunes. The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, a vast and unforgiving landscape that had long since claimed countless lives.
Kūga stood in the middle of the clearing, raising his hand as the bodies gently lowered to the ground.
With another focused gesture, a deep blue flame ignited from his fingertips—Aether: Soulfire. The flames licked the bodies, burning them with an otherworldly glow.
These were no ordinary fires; the Aether-fueled flames consumed the flesh in silence, leaving no ash, no remnants behind.
Kūga watched the flickering light, his expression unreadable as the last traces of the dead faded into the air, returning to the earth from which they came.
For a long moment, he stood there, letting the wind carry away the memories of the fallen.
.
Returning to the rundown village, Kūga's sharp eyes scanned the ragged group of survivors huddled together in fear.
They were weak, emaciated from weeks, if not months, of mistreatment. Their clothes hung off their frames like tattered rags, their skin bruised and marked with the harshness of their captivity.
The spark of life seemed nearly extinguished from their hollow eyes, but Kūga could sense it—fragile, yet still present.
They needed shelter, a place where they could feel safe, if only for a short while.
"I will protect you now," he said, his voice low yet carrying a firm promise.
Gathering his Aether once again, Kūga extended his arms outward. The energy surged through him like a tidal wave, bending to his will as he wove an invisible shield around the clearing.
The air shimmered briefly before stabilizing, the barrier taking form.
Though it was unseen, the slaves could feel the change almost immediately—the brutal winds that had battered them moments ago ceased, the air became still, and the oppressive heat of the desert lessened.
As a cool, calming breeze filled the space.
The clearing transformed into a sanctuary, a protected haven from the merciless elements. Kūga turned to Reifū, who had been watching silently from the edge of the group, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Look after them," Kūga instructed, his tone firm but not harsh. "Try to console them. See if it works."
Reifū nodded, though uncertainty clouded her features. Her empathy, however, was undeniable. As Kūga began to turn away, she moved among the group, her voice soft and soothing as she attempted to comfort the terrified survivors.
.
Satisfied that Reifū was handling the immediate situation, Kūga set his mind to the next task: finding supplies. These people needed food, water, and proper shelter to survive the night.
He couldn't rely on scavenging what little remained in the village—it had been picked clean long before they arrived. No, he would need to act swiftly and efficiently.
He gathered Aether around him, focusing it into a concentrated force beneath his feet. His body began to rise, floating effortlessly into the air.
The familiar sensation of flight washed over him as he ascended higher and higher, the ground growing distant beneath him.
He glanced down briefly, ensuring the barrier remained intact.
And then—boom.
The sound reverberated through the air, a shockwave rippling out as Kūga shot into the sky like a comet. The force of his ascent cracked the atmosphere, leaving a deafening sonic boom in his wake. The desert sands below shifted, and Reifū, startled by the sudden explosion of sound, looked up in awe.
"How… how does he do that?" she muttered, her gaze following his rapidly disappearing form.
The raw power needed to achieve that kind of speed, that kind of control—floating was difficult enough, but to fly at such velocity?
She shook her head in disbelief. "The precision… the control required… it's beyond anything I've ever seen."
A part of her marveled at the sheer force Kūga commanded, while another part of her vowed silently to one day understand his methods—if not to surpass him, at least to learn his secrets.
.
Within moments, Kūga had crossed into the Land of Rivers. His heightened senses scanned the landscape, quickly identifying a herd of large cows grazing by the riverbank.
He wasted no time, descending upon the herd like a phantom. With swift, calculated movements, he hunted down several of the largest animals, his blades of Aether cutting through them with deadly precision.
The cows fell silently, their bodies stored away in his Aether: Storage before the herd even realized what had happened.
Not satisfied with only food, Kūga turned his attention to finding cotton, essential for crafting beds for the former slaves. He sped across the countryside, his keen eyes searching the terrain, but no suitable fields of cotton were found in the Land of Rivers.
Undeterred, he blasted forward toward the Land of Fire.
Upon reaching the border, he found what he was looking for—a vast cotton field stretching as far as the eye could see.
Kūga descended swiftly, gathering enough cotton to craft bedding for fifty people. His hands moved deftly, the cotton stored away in moments.
Before he turned his attention to an oak tree nearby.
With a swift horizontal motion of his hand, he cut through the massive tree as though slicing through butter.
The wood fell cleanly, and using his Aether, he manipulated the log into three large wooden barrels.
He conjured fresh, cold water from the air, filling each barrel to the brim.
The barrels were stored alongside the other supplies, neatly organized within his Aether: Storage.
Finally, he gathered a variety of spices from the local markets, careful not to draw too much attention to his presence.
Once his haul was complete, Kūga lifted into the air once more, his body a blur as he shot back toward the desert with another ear-splitting boom.
.
Back at the clearing, Reifū had been struggling to console the people, her voice soft yet failing to fully break through their fear and trauma.
But as the second boom echoed through the desert, her eyes snapped toward the horizon. Kūga returned as swiftly as he had left, landing gracefully in the center of the clearing.
Her eyes widened in shock. He had been gone for less than ten minutes, yet he returned with more supplies than they could have hoped for in days of scavenging.
She didn't say anything at first, her gaze locked on him as he began to work.
Without hesitation, Kūga raised his hand and swept away the sand that covered the ground, revealing the earth beneath.
He manipulated the Aether with precision, clearing the area and smoothing the ground to create a suitable space for the people to rest.
The sand, once an oppressive force, now moved at his command, leaving behind a clean, stable surface.
Reifū finally found her voice. "How… how did you do all this?" she asked, still stunned by the sheer volume of resources he had gathered in such a short time.
Kūga smirked, his eyes glinting with confidence. "Aether," he replied simply, his tone exuding certainty.
Reifū shook her head in disbelief, watching as Kūga unloaded the barrels of water, the cotton, and the freshly butchered cows.
He set to work immediately, manipulating Aether to create a large metal grill from nothing. The conjured tools gleamed in the sunlight as Kūga began preparing the food, his hands moving with lightning speed.
Kūga's hands moved like a blur, his mastery of Aether allowing him to manipulate multiple tasks at once. He conjured knives from thin air, using them to slice the meat with precision.
The large slabs of beef were marinated in the spices he had gathered, each piece infused with flavor as he prepared the grill.
The grill itself was an intricate creation, shaped from conjured metal using Aether's force. He heated it instantly, the metal glowing red-hot as he placed the meat on the surface.
The sizzling sound of the meat hitting the grill filled the air, accompanied by the mouthwatering aroma of roasting beef.
As the meat cooked, Kūga summoned fresh water from the barrels, pouring it into conjured wooden cups. He handed the cups to Reifū, who in turn passed them to the survivors.
They drank greedily, their fear momentarily forgotten in the face of their overwhelming thirst.
Soon, the rich smell of the cooking beef spread through the clearing, the scent alone enough to stir the exhausted survivors from their stupor.
Reifū watched in amazement as Kūga managed every detail with ease—the fire, the cooking, the organization of supplies. His control was absolute, every movement precise and efficient.
Minutes later, Kūga served the first of the cooked meat, placing it on large wooden platters that he had conjured.
He handed the platters to Reifū, who distributed the food to the hungry survivors.
The former slaves ate with fervor, tears streaming down some of their faces as they tasted real food for the first time in weeks.
.
Night had fallen by the time the survivors had finished eating and most went to the bed Kūga made for them, the air cool and crisp in the desert night.
Kūga sat by the fire he had created, his gaze focused on the flickering flames. His mind wandered, reflecting on the events of the day.
Reifū sat beside him, the weight of everything they had done hanging in the air between them. She glanced at him, noting the faraway look in his eyes. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if she should speak.
But eventually, she broke the silence.
"You saved them, Kūga," she said quietly, her voice soft in the night air.
Kūga didn't respond immediately, his gaze still fixed on the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost distant. "It was necessary. There's always more to be done."
His words hung in the air, a reminder that their journey was far from over. But for now, under the protective dome of Aether, with the warmth of the fire and the quiet sounds of the desert night around them, they had found a moment of peace.
And in that fleeting silence, the bond between Kūga and Reifū deepened—unspoken, yet undeniably present.