The sun began to rise slowly, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. A golden light touched the rooftops of the quiet village, while a light mist danced through the grass and clung gently to the trees. Everything felt calm, like the village itself didn't want to wake up yet. Birds chirped quietly, as if they too understood that this morning was special—an ending and a beginning.
Lan Zhen stood in front of his house, holding his hammer tightly. The cool breeze touched his face, but the weight of the hammer in his hand brought comfort. Behind him, the forge was cold and still. No flames burned, no sparks flew—but in his mind, he could hear the sound of metal being struck, see the red glow of heated steel, and feel his father's hands guiding his.
Today, he would leave the place he called home.
The cart they would travel in stood nearby, half-filled with their belongings. There were boxes of blacksmith tools, bundles of clothes, jars filled with herbs, and a few precious storybooks that Zhen had loved since he was small. Na'er and Lan Xin were inside the house, carefully folding soft blankets and tying them with string. Lan Xin had tears in her eyes, but she smiled as she worked.
Outside, Lan Hua was busy adjusting the leather straps on the cart beast. The creature, large and gentle, stood calmly chewing on hay as Lan Hua tightened the harness. Every now and then, he would pause and glance back at the house, his eyes soft with emotion.
Zhen walked through the village alone, just one last time. He passed the old well, the narrow path behind the herb shop, and the small stream where he used to skip stones with Shi Feng. He stopped at the big banyan tree, placing his hand against its thick trunk. He remembered climbing it, falling, and crying in his mother's arms. He smiled softly.
Finally, he reached the small wooden shrine at the edge of the village. He knelt down, closed his eyes, and whispered, "Thank you." He touched the shrine gently, like he was trying to carry its blessing with him.
By the time Zhen returned, the morning sun had risen higher, warming the rooftops and drying the dew on the grass. A small group of villagers had gathered outside the Lan home. Some held baskets and bundles, others simply stood quietly with kind smiles.
Elder Shen came forward first. He handed Zhen a rolled-up scroll tied with red ribbon. "This is a map of Star City. I used it many years ago when I traveled as a messenger. Let it help you find your way."
Zhen bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder Shen."
More villagers came forward. The healer gave him a pouch of dried herbs. The baker offered a small bag of sweet pastries. Even the quiet carpenter gave him a charm carved from wood. "Hang it on your pack," he said softly. "It's for good luck."
Na'er stepped outside just then and ran into the arms of her best friend, a small girl who held a handmade phoenix doll. The little girl was crying. "You're going to become the strongest Phoenix Master, right?"
Na'er nodded and wiped her friend's tears. "I will. And I'll visit when I can. Promise me you'll write to me."
Shi Feng soon arrived, holding a warm cloth bundle. "Mom made pork buns. She says you like them too much."
Zhen grinned. "She's right. I'll share them with Na'er on the road."
Shi Feng smiled, but there was a look in his eyes—a mixture of pride and sadness. "See you at the Academy gates. Don't fall behind, alright?"
"I won't," Zhen said. "We'll all grow stronger together."
Just then, Xiao Ping and his parents walked by. Ping gave Zhen a sharp look, then smirked. "Don't get lost in the city. Dragons may fly high, but they crash hardest."
Zhen didn't answer. He looked at Ping with calm, then turned away.
Lan Hua helped Zhen climb onto the cart. Lan Xin took Na'er's hand and helped her up as well. She sat between them, her little bag clutched to her chest.
Na'er's father, Gu Sheng, stepped forward with a pouch of coins. "Take care of my daughter," he said firmly. "She's strong, but she's still young."
Zhen nodded seriously. "I'll protect her forever."
Lan Hua took the reins. He looked at his family, then at the crowd, and gave a respectful nod. With a soft call, the beast began to move, and the cart slowly rolled forward. The wooden wheels creaked over the road, and dust rose behind them.
The village bell rang once—low and clear. It was the traditional sound of farewell, only heard when someone important left on a long journey.
Zhen looked back as they moved. He saw the familiar houses, the forge chimney, the banyan tree, the stream, and the smiling faces of the people he loved. His heart ached, but he knew he had to go. This was his time to grow.
Lan Xin leaned close to him, brushing his hair back. "Your dreams are waiting, Zhen. Let's chase them together."
Na'er rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closed but smiling softly.
Lan Hua kept his eyes ahead, steady and strong. He didn't speak, but his hands held the reins with quiet strength.
Zhen held his hammer beside him. He could feel a fire deep inside—a feeling that something great was coming. He was no longer just a village boy. He was a dragon-bonded blacksmith, walking toward his future.
The village faded behind them, and the road stretched ahead.
Their new life had begun.