The cool, fresh air greeted me as I walked out of the Frostvile Airport. It is currently 8. a.m. in the morning. The sky is blue, scattered with wisp white clouds, and the towering Frostvile Mountain loomed in the distance, its icy peaks glittering like diamonds as the sunlight pass through it. The city of [Frostvile] stretched out before me, a perfect blend of ancient architecture and modern innovation. The crystal white streets, magical rail lines and the air hummed faintly with the energy of frost magic–all so familiar, yet new.
I adjusted my jacket as I walked into the bustling city square, The shops and hotels lining the streets were filled with life–vendors, selling warm clothes, and steaming street food that fills the air with rich, provocative aroma.
"So much has change after only 3 years," I murmured.
Before returning to my hometown–Honeyford, I decided to buy some clothes and a luggage bag, I did have my clothes in my [Inventory Ring], but I couldn't use those, as to prevent any unnecessary questioning, I chose not to were them, every single item was of high quality and value–luxuries only people with high status like nobles could afford, Additionally, I couldn't use my [Inventory Ring] in public, because it was the rarest of rare artifacts, valued so highly that you could probably buy part of Frostvile Mountain with it.
A standard [Inventory Ring] had a build-in storage capacity, allowing items to be stored in a confined dimensional space. Mine worked the same but it's capacity is vast, It could store up to fifty airplanes inside it. Even a regular [Inventory Ring] was rare, a status symbol of the nobility. My clothes and equipment were even rarer–each price worth as much as a national treasure.
As I wandered around, I stopped in front of an ancient looking clothing store, Pushing the creaky door open, I stepped inside and greeted by a badly organized space, with racks of cloaks, robes, and boots crammed into every available corner. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm sensation, while an ancient stove in the corner struggled to keep the cool at bay, puffing occasional plumes of smoke. The air smelled faintly of wool, lavender and an explicit hint of burning coal.
Behind the counter stood a man in his fifties wearing an outlandish fur coat, its arms outstretched like it was guarding the merchandise. Above it, a hand-painted sigh read: "No refunds. All sales final unless I like you."
Cloaks enchanted to repel ice spells dangling on racks labelled, "Battle-tested!" while boots advertised as "Never Slip Again!". After spotting me the shop owner greeted me hurriedly with a creepy smile. "~What can I get you sir?! We sell almost everything from head to toe every possible accessory. Name it, and I will present it to you!"
"Umm… I'm… just looking around."
"Please take you time, ~Good Sir."
As I browsed around a bit, my eyes stopped on a long black coat–
"~Ah, this coat is perfect for someone like you! Durable, stylish, and only 300 thousand," said the shopkeeper.
"Three hundred!? Are you selling the coat or a piece of the Frostvile Mountain with it?"
"Quality has its price, young man."
"At this rate, I'll have to offer a kidney to afford even a glove." I said jokingly.
"Well, if you're offering…"
"I was joking!"
what's with this guy!
"~Oh… with this coat you even get a free enchanted hat!" the shopkeeper said, presenting me something… vaguely resembling a hat. It has two big round eyes, and few red feathers on top.
"Why does it look like a chicken?" I asked.
"It's not a chicken! It's a Frost Phoenix, symbolizing power and grace." Shopkeeper explained.
Hmm. Frost Phoenix never heard of them.
"It's staring at me like I owe it money."
"That's just enchantment working! It's intimidating your enemies!"
"I'm more worried about intimidating myself… Does this place even sell decent clothes?"
"~By all means Sir! Take a look at this scarf, It's really friendl–cough!...I mean fancy!, It's currently our best-selling item."
The scarf is glittered in a mix combination of pink, red, blue and purple colour.
"Doesn't it look like it belonged in a children's birthday party."
"Ok then. How about this?" the shopkeeper proceeds to pulls out a plain looking grey scarf.
I took the scarf from his hand and tried it on. The scarf has a Woolen texture to it. I kind of like it.
"Finally, something that says 'I'm serious.'" I complemented.
"~Oh, it does say something. It whispers motivational quotes while you wear it."
"You are kidding."
[Scarf]: " You can do it!"
"Take it off! Take it off right now!"
What is wrong with this place. Should I run away.
"Hey! Hey! Don't through hi–it! Wait sir! Don't Go! Please… just one chance…give me one chance! I have clothes with no enchantment and with no hidden creatu–cough!... I mean no hidden magic tool in it!"
With that he presented me some decent cheap looking clothes, I carefully examined it before adding it to my basket. With that I only need weapon and a luggage bag.
"Also, show me a long sword, with decent material and it has to be light weight." I ordered.
"~As you wish sir!" From the corner rack he pulled out a long old looking sword. "This sword is perfect for you. Normally, it's 500 thousand, but for you, I'll do 150."
"That's suspiciously generous. What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing! It's just… uh… slightly haunted."
"Define 'slightly.'"
"~Oh, just occasional whispers and maybe a scream or two at night. Totally manageable!"
"I'm paying extra NOT to have a screaming sword."
". . ."
Finally, after an exhausting amount of negotiation (and resisting the urge to strangle the shopkeeper), I walked out with a medium sized leather luggage bag inside it was 6 pairs of clothes, and a plain looking katana. The shopkeeper tried one last time to convince me to take the 'Motivational scarf', but I was out of there before he could finish his pitch.
I made my way to a food stall. The smell of grilled frost trout and hot spicy cider was irresistible. I sat down, savouring the warmth of the meal against the chill of the air. The food tasted better than I remembered, or maybe I just hadn't had the time to enjoy simple pleasure in years.
As I ate, my thought wandered. [Frostvile] was one of the five [Elemental] kingdoms, each named after and ruled by their dominant [Elementals]: [Frostvile] for ice, [Pyrestone] for fire, [Terranova] for earth, [Stormshade] for wind, and [Aquadore] for water. Each kingdom thrives on pursuing its magical affinity they are rich with, their people adept in their respective [Elemental]. Yet, unlike most, I had the rare ability to wield all five–that set me apart, even among the top heroes.
I had wielded that power to become 'Rank–1'. But now, I wonder if even that was enough. My thoughts darkened as I remembered the mysterious figure killing me–its golden blood–its mocking words. That figure wasn't just strong–it was an unknown existence, which defies even my logic and reasoning. And it had defeated me like… I was nothing.
My memories are still fresh. It's like it had happened just yesterday, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a threat in this world that–I couldn't handle, even with all my power. That very thought chilled me more that Frostvile's air. And what of this newfound skill [Immortality]? No matter how much I focus I couldn't even tell what that skill actually does or what are its limitations or even its side effects.
Would it work again if I fail?
Or was it a one-time miracle with unknown consequences?
I decided to make my every move carefully. And to avoid any unnecessary attention. I wouldn't return to the Hero Association. Not now, perhaps not ever. They had betrayed me, discarded me like a tool. For now, I would lay low, live quietly.
If the world needs a hero again then 'someone' else would have to take that burden.
With my mind made up, I made my way to the Frostvile Central Station. The air buzzed with the rhythmic sound of magical trains known as [Aetherrail] arriving and departing. Each train looked like a masterpiece, sleek and glistering with frost along its surface. Unlike conventional trains, the [Aetherrail] doesn't rely on tracks, it hovers and move along invisible air currents, the design of the train combines modern technology and ancient magical frost rune–engraved into its undercarriage.
I approached the counter, where a bored attendant looked up from her magazine.
"I ticket to Honeyford," I said.
She typed on a glowing panel and handed me the ticket. "Platform 7. Departure in 20 minutes."
As I made my way through the crowded terminal, where passengers bustled with energy, lugging their belongings while children ran around chasing enchanted snowballs. It was nostalgic, this blend of chaos and joy.
Arriving at Platform 7, I noticed a young boy and his mother sitting on a bench. The boy held a small [Ice Fox] in his lap, its tiny body shimmering with faint [Frost Elemental] as it wagged its fluffy tail. The sight brought a faint smile to my lips.
I boarded the train and settled into my seat by the window. As the train began to move, I stared out, watching Frostvile Mountain's snowy landscape blur into motion. The train whizzed past towering pine tree forest coated in snow, glittering lakes reflecting the sun light, and small villages nested like jewels in the white wide space.
It had been three years since I last saw Honeyford. My heart felt a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. Would anything has changed?
The train's speaker announcing the next station: "Next Station–Honeyford". I adjusted my coat and glanced at my reflection in the window. The person staring back at me was someone I barely recognized–a shadow of the man I once was. The reflection was cold, stiff, with silver eyes that carried battles fought in silence. My hair, darker than I remembered, fell over my forehead, and my lips, once quick to smile, pressed together in a line that betrays my unease.
Would they recognize me?
Would my old life be waiting for me?
As I stepped off, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and snow. Honeyford was a quiet town, its charm deep rooted in simplicity. The scent of fresh snow mingled with the aroma of fresh strawberries, and the cozy homes and small shops, looked almost untouched by time.
–It was exactly as I remembered.
As I entered the town square, my eyes were drawn to a familiar building: my parent's café. It's warm, inviting glow stood out even amidst the cozy town. The wooden sign above the door, engraved with the name 'Skylark Café', Swayed gentle by the breeze.
As I approached, I hesitated at the door, my heart pounding. It had been three years since I last saw them. Would they recognize me? Did they think I was dead? The very answer terrifies me, but I couldn't stay away from it any longer.
–Sigh! Breath in…Breath Out…Breath in…Breath Out…
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. The bell above jingled softly, and the warmth of the café engulfed me. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries hit me, bringing back a flood of memories. For a brief moment I forgot all my worries.
Behind the counter stood a woman with gentle features and dark, wavy hair tied in a loose bun. She was serving a customer, her movements gracefully, carefully and yet elegant.
'She hasn't changed a bit.'
"Welcome to Skylark Café!" she said cheerfully, her head bowed as she finished wrapping up an order. When she looked up–as she saw me completely, her smile faded, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief.
I felt my throat tightened and an aching pain run through my throat, as I took a step forward. "Hello, …Mother," I said, my voice trembling.
Her eyes widened, and the tray she was holding fell off her hands clattering near the counter. For a moment, there was only silence. Then she rushed around the counter, her hands covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face.
"Zane…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Is… it really… you?"
I nodded, unable to utter a word. My vision blurred as she reached me, pulling me into her tight embrace. Her warmth, her scent–it was everything I had missed.
"You are… alive–you are alive! –you are alive!," she sobbed, her voice filled with both relief and pain. "My baby boy… my Zane…"
I clung to her like a lifeline, my own tears falling freely, soaking her Sholder wet. For the first time in years, I felt like a son – and not like a Rank–1 Hero. And in that moment, all the pain, sorrow, suffering, betrayal, and fear melted away.
"Mom, I am home."
I was home.
End of Chapter