The road stretched endlessly before him, the broken remains of Velstrine disappearing into the horizon. Kain Vallis adjusted the strap of his travel pack and kept walking, his boots crunching against the dry, cracked earth. The air was cooler here, outside the city's ruins, but it carried a haunting stillness. The world beyond Velstrine hadn't changed in the ten years since he'd left. If anything, it had grown worse.
A faint wind brushed past him, kicking up dust, and he stopped to glance back. The skeletal remains of his home loomed in the distance, still and lifeless. It felt strange to leave it again, as though part of him would always remain there—frozen in time, in that moment when everything had fallen apart.
But the world didn't stop for grief.
The first steps away from Velstrine felt heavy, as if his body resisted moving forward. But each step after grew lighter. Not easier—never easier—but purposeful. He didn't know exactly where the road would take him, but he knew he wouldn't keep wandering aimlessly this time.
He was searching for something. A way to change things. A way to prove that power didn't have to be a force of destruction.
By the time Kain reached the outskirts of Norhold, the nearest settlement, the sun was setting, its golden light cutting through the shadows of the towering cliffs nearby. Norhold was a small town perched against the edge of a deep ravine, its patchwork buildings scattered like uneven puzzle pieces. A crude wooden bridge stretched across the gorge, creaking under the weight of passing carts. Smoke from cookfires rose in thin spirals above the rooftops, the faint hum of life carrying on in a world that felt increasingly fragile.
As he approached the bridge, he noticed a small group of people gathered near its base. They were arguing—no, shouting—and it didn't take long for Kain to see why.
At the center of the commotion stood a young girl, no older than twelve, her back pressed against the bridge's railing. Her eyes darted between the angry townsfolk closing in around her, a look of desperation etched across her face. The faint shimmer of blue energy flickered around her hands, unstable and erratic. An Eidon. And an untrained one, at that.
"She's dangerous!" one man bellowed, his face red with fear. "Get her away from the bridge before she brings it down!"
"She'll kill us all!" cried another, holding a rusted pitchfork.
"No!" the girl shouted, her voice cracking with panic. "I didn't mean to—please! It's not my fault!"
Kain's steps quickened, his instincts pulling him toward the commotion. He had seen this scene before, played out in different places, with different faces. An unstable Eidon user, terrified and unable to control their power, cast out by those too afraid to help. He clenched his fists, a flicker of frustration rising in him. People always feared what they didn't understand.
"Wait," Kain called out, stepping closer. His calm voice cut through the shouts, and the crowd hesitated, turning to him.
"Who are you?" the man with the pitchfork demanded, narrowing his eyes. "This isn't your business, stranger."
Kain ignored the question. His gaze shifted to the girl, who looked at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. The blue energy around her hands flared again, sparking like static electricity. It was growing more erratic. If she couldn't calm down, the Eidon would spiral further out of control.
"Easy," Kain said softly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. He took a careful step closer. "What's your name?"
The girl flinched, clutching her hands against her chest. "S-Sera."
"Alright, Sera," Kain said, his voice steady and warm. "I'm Kain. I'm not going to hurt you. But I need you to listen to me, okay?"
"Don't listen to him!" a woman in the crowd hissed. "He's probably got a power too—probably one of those rogues!"
Kain shot the woman a sharp look. "You're not helping."
The woman fell silent, but the tension in the air only thickened. Kain turned back to Sera, who looked moments away from either bolting or losing control entirely. He couldn't blame her. The fear in her eyes reminded him too much of himself—not just after Velstrine, but long before. He'd been her age once, grappling with the first signs of his own Eidon, unsure whether it was a gift or a curse.
"Sera," he said again, kneeling slightly to make himself less threatening. "Your Eidon is flaring because you're scared. That's okay. It's normal. But I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?"
She hesitated, trembling. "I-I can't stop it."
"Yes, you can," Kain said, his voice firm but kind. "It's yours. It doesn't control you. Close your eyes and focus on your breath—nothing else. In and out."
The energy around her hands flickered again, but it didn't lash out this time. Slowly, tentatively, Sera closed her eyes and inhaled, her shoulders rising and falling with shaky breaths. Kain stayed perfectly still, giving her space, his gaze unwavering.
The crowd muttered angrily behind him, but no one dared approach.
After a moment, the blue energy around her hands dimmed, fading into faint sparks before vanishing entirely. Sera opened her eyes, her face pale with exhaustion but calm. She stared at her hands in disbelief, then back at Kain.
"I… I stopped it," she whispered.
Kain smiled softly. "See? You're stronger than you think."
The tension in the air broke, but only slightly. The crowd behind Kain wasn't impressed. If anything, their fear seemed to deepen, their eyes flicking between Sera and Kain with suspicion.
"This isn't over," the man with the pitchfork growled, stepping forward. "She's a danger to everyone here. Just because she calmed down now doesn't mean she won't lose control again."
"She's a child," Kain said sharply, rising to his full height. His voice was calm but carried an edge of steel. "She doesn't need your anger. She needs help. Or would you rather drive her to the point where she becomes exactly what you fear?"
The man faltered, his grip on the pitchfork tightening, but he didn't argue. The rest of the crowd began to disperse, muttering under their breaths, until only Kain and Sera remained on the bridge.
"Thank you," Sera said quietly, her voice still trembling. "I didn't mean to scare them. I didn't mean to—"
"You don't have to explain," Kain interrupted gently. "None of this was your fault. But… do you have anyone? Someone who can help you control it?"
Sera shook her head. "My parents… they…" Her voice cracked, and she didn't finish the sentence. But she didn't need to. Kain understood.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Then stick with me for now. I can't promise much, but I can help you learn to control it. If that's what you want."
Her eyes widened. "You'd do that? Even though I—"
"Power doesn't make you a monster," Kain said, cutting her off. His tone softened. "What matters is how you use it. And you've got a choice, Sera. I can help you see that."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."
Kain smiled faintly and turned toward the town, motioning for her to follow. As they walked, his mind raced. Helping one person was simple. But the world… the world was a different beast entirely. People like Sera—scared, abandoned, rejected—were everywhere, and the Syndicate was doing nothing to change that.
If anything, they were making it worse.
But this was a start.
"Come on," he said as the first stars began to flicker in the darkening sky. "We've got work to do."