Shawn stirred, his body heavy yet oddly painless. Slowly, his senses came back to him—soft fabric beneath his back, the gentle rustle of curtains swaying in the breeze, and the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the soft light filtering through a nearby window. The bed he lay on was warm and comfortable, far from the blood-soaked battlefield he last remembered.
He sat up slightly, his fingers brushing over his chest and arms. Smooth skin met his touch. No bruises, no cuts, no burns—his body had been completely restored.
"Ela… where am I?" Shawn asked groggily, his voice still hoarse.
"The last thing I remember…" His voice trailed off as the memory struck him—he had been half-dead, slung over the shoulder of an old man.
That man—frail in appearance yet immeasurably strong—had faced the lightning freak who'd nearly killed him and utterly crushed the opponent without using even a hint of Vitral. Raw strength alone. That thought alone sent shivers through Shawn's spine. It reminded him of an old saying: Never judge a book by its cover.
He sighed, swinging his legs off the bed and letting them dangle for a moment. His thoughts drifted back to the battle—how helpless he had felt, despite giving everything he had. He had pushed past his limits, fought with every ounce of skill and cunning… and still, he lost. Had it not been for the old man's intervention, he would have been a corpse by now.
Shawn clenched his fists. I can't rely on luck next time…
A low growl rumbled from his stomach, breaking his thoughts.
Even with the Skyrize bloodline running through his veins, which could stretch survival to near-impossible lengths, it came at a cost—energy, and lots of it. And now his hunger clawed at him like a beast demanding payment for staying alive.
Just then, the door creaked open. A young girl, maybe fifteen, stepped into the room with soft footsteps.
"You're awake," she said with a relieved breath. "You scared me… I thought you were gone."
Shawn turned his head toward her voice and smiled weakly. "Jena… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Bad luck seems to follow me like a shadow."
Jena shook her head quickly. "You don't need to apologize…" Her voice faltered as she realized something—Shawn wasn't wearing a shirt.
Her eyes lingered for a second too long on his torso, the defined muscles and smooth skin practically glowing in the filtered sunlight. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. Thank the stars he was blind and couldn't see the expression on her face.
A tense silence followed until she quickly blurted, "Are… are you hungry?"
Shawn gave a sigh of relief—finally, something he was dying to hear. "Hungry? Jena, I could eat a whole elephant and still be starving."
She giggled lightly. "You're safe here. This is my grandpa's home. Make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to eat."
She hurried out, leaving Shawn alone with his thoughts again.
"Ela… where's the gourd?" he suddenly asked.
"You really are hopeless sometimes," Ela said with a sarcastic huff in his mind. "It's in your ring, of course. I accessed it right before you passed out. You forgot you even had a spatial ring, didn't you?"
"Oh. Yeah… wait, I have a spatial ring?" He then recalled the memories of the previous owner, remembering how his grandfather gave him this ring before he left.
Ela sighed dramatically. "Yes. Let me teach you how to use it before you accidentally toss it into a fireplace."
Following Ela's instructions, Shawn focused his spirit essence into the ring. After a few moments, the small embedded crystal at the center of the ring flickered, then glowed a vivid emerald green.
"Now, send a wisp of your consciousness inside it," Ela instructed.
As he did, his mind expanded into a vast, glowing space—an endless realm of soft green light. Floating within it was the familiar gourd, several small green stones, and… not much else. Still, the sheer size of the space—easily five hundred cubic meters—left Shawn in awe.
So this is spatial storage… he thought in wonder. No more hauling bags like a wandering beggar.
Just as he exited the ring's space, the door creaked again. This time, a much older presence stepped inside.
It was the old man.
He carried a tray, and with him came the mouthwatering aroma of spiced meat, roasted vegetables, and warm broth. Shawn's stomach practically screamed with hunger.
"I bet you're starving, son," the old man said warmly. He placed the tray gently in front of Shawn.
Shawn didn't even wait for formalities—he devoured the food like a beast who hadn't eaten in days. Within minutes, the tray was licked clean. He leaned back with a satisfied groan, finally feeling whole again.
"Thank you, sir. That… was amazing."
The old man gave a small chuckle. "You earned it. But now, I have a few questions, if you don't mind. Where are you from, and how can I contact your guardian?"
Shawn didn't hesitate. "I'm from Raze. My mother is Lynne… she's a healer."
The old man blinked, visibly taken aback. "Lynne? The healer? I know her. She's a remarkable woman—respected across these lands. But… how are you her son? I heard she lost her only child years ago."
Shawn's expression sobered. He slowly nodded. "I… wasn't born her son. I met her by chance, and she took me in. She saved my life. I owe her everything."
He paused before continuing, crafting a believable tale. "I got lost in the mountains. I was separated from her during a supply run. I wandered deep into the wilds. For nearly a year, I lived off what I could hunt… small animals, roots, anything. I survived. Barely."
It wasn't the whole truth—but it was enough. The old man studied him carefully, then nodded with a soft sigh.
"You've been through much more than a child your age should," he said solemnly. "To survive in that mountain… to defeat those men… it's a miracle. You must have inherited her courage. Don't worry—I'll contact her. I can only imagine the torment she's been in, thinking she lost her child again."
He stood, his expression pensive. "Get some more rest. You'll need it."
As he left the room, Shawn leaned back onto the soft pillows, his body finally full, his mind slowly piecing together all that had happened.
He had survived. For now.
The days passed in quiet recovery. Shawn spent most of his time either resting, meditating with Ela, or exploring the capabilities of his spatial ring. The old man, whom he learned was called Grand Elder Ren, had taken a liking to him. He would occasionally drop by, asking questions about his life, subtly gauging Shawn's responses with the keen eyes of a seasoned warrior. Jena, on the other hand, was always hovering around, sneaking glances, bringing fruits, or trying to spark conversation. Her presence brought a warmth Shawn hadn't felt in years.
But amidst the peace, Shawn's heart was unsettled. He couldn't stop thinking about his mother. Had she really believed him dead all this time? What pain had she gone through?
One early morning, a faint knock echoed through the room. Before Shawn could respond, the door opened slowly.
"Shawn…" Grand Elder Ren stood at the threshold, his voice unusually soft. His eyes held a strange emotion—nostalgia, grief, relief—all at once.
"She's here."
Shawn's breath hitched. "Who?"
"Lynne."
The name hit him like a lightning strike.
His mother.
She was here.
He stood up, suddenly conscious of his heartbeat, and followed the old man through the corridor. The house was unusually silent, the morning light casting golden hues through the bamboo windows. As they approached the entrance hall, Shawn could hear the soft sound of weeping.
Then he saw her.
A woman, draped in a white healer's robe, her long chestnut hair tied in a loose braid, stood facing away from him. Her shoulders trembled as she cried silently, clutching a pendant in her hands—the pendant she always wore, the one that once belonged to her late husband… and then to her lost child.
Shawn stopped a few steps behind her.
"Mother," he whispered.
Lynne froze.
Slowly, she turned.
Her eyes, red and swollen from days—perhaps months—of crying, met his.
There was a second of silence. Time seemed to pause, the world holding its breath.
Then her lips trembled. "Shawn...?"
He nodded, barely able to speak.
And that was all she needed.
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly, pulling him into the kind of embrace only a mother could give. The moment they touched, her body gave out in a sob. Shawn, usually composed and calm, felt the dam inside him break. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he clung to her.
"I thought I lost you again!" Lynne cried. "I searched everywhere. I climbed that cursed mountain until my legs bled. They told me no one could survive there. But I kept hoping. I kept… I never gave up. I couldn't. You're all I had left."
Shawn buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to disappear. I was trapped. I thought I'd never make it back. I… I wanted to live. For you."
She cupped his cheeks, pulling back to look at him properly. "You've changed… you've grown so much."
He smiled tearfully. "So have you. You look... tired."
She chuckled through her sobs, brushing his hair. "That's what grief does to a mother. But you're back. You're really back."
They sat together for hours, talking about everything and nothing. Lynne kept holding his hand, as if scared he would vanish again. She told him of the nights she cried herself to sleep, the guilt she felt for letting him go to the mountain, the people who tried to console her—none of whom understood what it meant to lose a child twice.
And Shawn, though he kept most of the darker truths to himself, told her stories of survival—of catching his own food, hiding from beasts, building shelter from nothing. He left out the parts about Jarvine, the spirit fragment, and the gourd for now. Some truths could wait.
By the time the sun began to set, Lynne had finally stopped crying. Her face looked lighter, freer—as if the years of burden had been lifted in one afternoon.
"I owe you my life," she said softly. "If not for Grand Elder Ren, I may have never seen you again."
The old man, standing nearby in silence all this time, merely nodded. "Your boy's a fighter, Lynne. There's something special about him. A strength I've not seen in decades. But he's humble, too. He carries his pain with honor."
Lynne smiled proudly and looked at Shawn. "That's because he's my son."
Shawn chuckled, his voice still hoarse from crying. "I'll never leave you again."
"You better not," she said, half-joking. "Because next time, I'll lock you at home or my work place and never let you leave."
They all laughed, the heaviness in the air now replaced by warmth.
Later that night, Shawn stood on the rooftop, staring at the stars, with Ela humming softly in his mind.
"I am wondering how you gazing at the stars yet you are blind."
" I just enjoy the braze of the night, hoping that one day I will be able to see." Shawn responded.
After some silence, Ela spoke. "She's strong, your mother,"
"She is," Shawn replied. "Stronger than me, honestly."
"No," Ela whispered, "you're strong because of her."
He smiled, watching the sky.
For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.
But deep in his heart, he knew that this was just the calm before the storm. Greater things awaited. The gourd, the Skyrize bloodline, the power slumbering inside him—it all meant something.
But for now, just for this night… he was home.