Four months had passed since Quiver told Rytha that she was not the real Quiver. That single revelation had gnawed at him, turning into a persistent itch he could not scratch. Every question he threw at Quiver had been ignored or waved off, leaving him frustrated. He wanted answers, but they eluded him like shadows in the dark.
Today, like so many other days, Rytha was seated on his usual rock beneath the thunderous waterfall. The cold water hammered against his small frame as though trying to crush him. After five months of this relentless training, he had finally managed to feel his soul—just a whisper of its presence—but diving into its depths remained elusive, like reaching for the moon reflected on water.
"Focus, feel it," Quiver's words echoed in his mind. It had been the same advice for months, and though it frustrated him at first, Rytha had grown accustomed to the rhythm of the training. Quiver would increase the water pressure and drop the temperature every time he adjusted. "It's to harden you," she once said indifferently. "The soul grows under pressure."
After five grueling hours, Quiver finally appeared at the edge of the clearing, her arms lazily crossed. She tilted her head as she observed him. The cold water had drenched his small, muscular form, muscles that seemed far too defined for a ten-year-old boy.
"Break time," she called out casually.
Rytha exhaled in relief as he stepped out of the waterfall. His body was sore, his clothes clinging to his skin. He glanced down at himself and muttered, "It's almost easy to forget that I'm only ten years old."
Quiver, who had settled under a tree with a wooden food box in hand, smirked faintly. "Stop muttering to yourself and come here."
Rytha walked over and sat beside her, his movements tired but steady. Quiver handed him the food—rice and wild boar meat neatly arranged in the box. His face lit up in a smile, and for a moment, he looked like the child he was.
"Thank you, Quiver," he said cheerfully before digging into the food.
Quiver rested back against the tree, her purple eyes staring at him with a lazy indifference that somehow still felt watchful.
"So, you really want to know how the story goes?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with something unreadable.
Rytha swallowed his bite and nodded eagerly. "Yes, please!"
Quiver sighed, as though weary of the weight of the tale she was about to tell. "Eat your food," she said firmly before starting.
"When Garumi and Quiver crossed paths, it was a moment neither of them could have expected. By that time, they had both become masters in their own right—Garumi and his green fire, the first of its kind, and Quiver, who had unraveled the mysteries of soul essence control. They were legends in their fields, even before the world alliance conference where they first met."
Rytha paused mid-bite, his eyes widening as he listened. "What happened when they saw each other?"
Quiver's eyes grew distant, as though she were seeing the moment unfold before her. "It was strange. Garumi had heard about Quiver, the so-called genius of the Shirohaga clan, but he had never seen his younger brother until that day. Quiver, on the other hand, had no idea he even had a brother."
She paused and smirked faintly, as though amused by the memory. "Garumi approached him during the opening ceremony of the conference. He didn't make a scene, didn't act out of turn—he simply walked up to him, extended his hand, and said, 'My name is Garumi Shirohaga.'"
Rytha blinked. "What did Quiver say?"
"He was shocked, of course. The name alone threw him off. He frowned slightly and asked, 'My name is Quiver Shirohaga. Might I ask from which branch you're from?'"
"What did Garumi say?"
Quiver chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "Garumi just smiled—an easy, calm smile that didn't betray a hint of anger or bitterness—and replied, 'We should grab a meal together sometime.' Then he simply walked away."
Rytha stared in disbelief. "That's it? He didn't say anything else?"
"Not at first," Quiver said, shaking her head. "The world alliance conference lasted a week, and during that time, Garumi and Quiver became… friends. It was strange for Quiver. Here was a man with his family name, someone who seemed familiar yet completely alien. Garumi was warm, charismatic, and—above all—kind. They dined together, sparred in friendly duels, and spoke of magic, war, and the weight of power."
Rytha frowned. "But what about Garumi? Wasn't he angry about being given away?"
Quiver's expression darkened. "Perhaps deep down he was, but Garumi never showed it. He played his part flawlessly. He laughed with Quiver, shared stories, and even taught him a little about green fire—though Quiver couldn't wield it."
Rytha narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't make sense. If they became friends, what happened?"
Quiver sighed, her tone growing heavier. "It was the final day of the conference when everything fell apart."
Rytha's heart skipped a beat as he leaned closer. "What happened?"
"Garumi acted."
The simple statement sent a shiver down Rytha's spine.
Quiver continued, her voice growing quieter. "No one saw it coming. Garumi, who had been smiling and shaking hands the entire week, unleashed green fire so powerful it devoured everything in its path. By the time anyone realized what was happening, it was too late. The leaders and representatives of almost every nation were dead—burned to ash."
Rytha's eyes widened in shock. "What? Why?!"
Quiver's gaze turned hard, her expression unreadable. "No one knows his reasons. Garumi vanished after that day, leaving the world in chaos.with every nation furiously searching for him, The alliance crumbled, and wars erupted across continents. It was a day forever remembered as The Shattering."
Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the faint sound of the wind through the trees. Rytha stared down at his empty food box, his mind reeling from what he'd heard.
"He killed them all… after pretending to be their friend," Rytha whispered, disbelief in his voice.
Quiver stood up slowly, stretching her arms above her head as though shaking off the heavy atmosphere. "War reveals the truth about people, Rytha. You should remember that."
Rytha looked up at her, a question burning in his mind. "What happened to the real Quiver? What did he do after that?"
Quiver paused, looking back at him with a small, mysterious smile. "That's a tale for another day."
Rytha frowned, frustrated but resigned. He watched as Quiver walked away, her figure blending into the shadows of the trees.
Garumi Shirohaga… The name echoed in his mind like a curse. For the first time, Rytha felt the weight of a much larger story resting on his shoulders.
As he sat there alone, staring at the waterfall, one thought struck him deeply—
Who was Garumi, really? And what does this have to do with me?
End of Chapter 28