A broken heart cannot be mended.
—Riven
So had I really grown stronger? Or not? With that question lingering, Rosha drifted into sleep.
At dawn the next morning, Rosha got up, dragged Lulu to wash his face, and was about to get to work when he saw Mother Shava chatting with a young girl. Judging from her clothes, she was a local.
"Iza, this is Miss Cunmali. She's come to help fix the big hole in the courtyard," Shava said with a smile when she saw her adopted son.
"Ah, hello there," Rosha said, placing Lulu on his shoulder and waving cheerfully at the girl. Lulu copied him, waving its tiny paw as well.
"You child, greet her properly!" Shava scolded, glaring at him.
"Good morning, guest," Rosha said obediently, bowing with a hand to his chest.
"Hello," the girl replied nervously, returning the gesture.
Rosha walked up, draped an arm around Shava's shoulder, and chuckled. "Mother, I can repair it myself. Why trouble someone else?"
"You fool, it's such a big pit! You're not healed yet, and Daeda won't help you. How long will it take you alone?" Shava tapped his head and gave Lulu a light smack as well.
Cunmali watched this odd young man curiously, then asked timidly, "Are you also a mender?"
"Huh?" Rosha blinked before remembering. In Ionia, there were many wondrous professions, and menders were among them—those who used the magic of nature to restore what was broken.
Cunmali had already noticed: like Shava's daughter, this man wasn't Ionian either. Yet somehow, he didn't seem like someone from Noxus.
She scooped up a handful of earth from the pit's edge, held it to her ear, and began to hum softly. Her pitch gradually shifted as she called to the earth spirits within the soil.
A tingling prickle ran across the back of Rosha's head—she had found the right resonance. The earth spirits responded to her hum. Maintaining her tone, Cunmali lifted a necklace and gently shook it, letting the bells chime and join the harmony.
Each bell bore a carved symbol, guiding the resonance of the elemental spirits. The curve of one symbol grew finer toward its end, weaving into a mist of rain.
Raising her hand toward the nearby water jar, she drew out a stream and spread it above the pit, thickening into a mist that cloaked the air.
Moments later, the mist dispersed. The ground was whole again, though dark cracks across the stones remained as traces of the fracture.
Rosha crouched down, running his fingers along one of the seams. "How did you mend this?"
"All things have spirit," Cunmali replied. "And every spirit—whether of life or matter—longs to be whole. I ask them what they need, and I give it to them."
"But there are still scars," Rosha said, looking up at her.
"Scars are signs of healing. This courtyard will never again be flawless, but it is whole—and strong. I think it's even more beautiful this way."
Rosha rose, thoughtful. He turned toward Riven, who stood in the doorway, and said, "The reason we stayed is because we brought destruction and suffering. We remain in order to make amends."
"You said the same as her," Cunmali said, pointing at Riven.
"You two know each other?" Rosha asked, puzzled.
"She defended us at the market last time. We're friends," Cunmali said, smiling and waving.
Riven's stiff smile answered her wave. Unbelievable—she had actually made a friend. Rosha stared at her in astonishment. She glared back and then invited Cunmali inside.
"This morning Asa went to borrow a shovel and met Cunmali. When she heard about the hole, she offered to help," Shava explained as she fixed Rosha's messy hair, warning Lulu not to muss it up again, before heading back in to host the guest.
Rosha stepped out, ready to find Father Asa and lend a hand with the work.
Statt Village was small, nestled deep in the forest, backed by a mountain with a river running through it. Beyond the trees lay the sea. The houses here were built in harmony with nature, their lines soft and flowing, exuding balance and beauty.
He had stayed for over a month now, gone out many times, and had met most of the villagers. They were ordinary, kind people, just like Asa and Shava.
"Rosha, good morning! Sleep well?" an old man with a white beard greeted with a smile.
"Grandpa Kunta, all is well! I dreamed of your grain-meat stew last night," Rosha said with a grin and wave.
"Come tonight, I'll make more!" the old man laughed, even happier.
"Rosha, I heard you got beaten up last night. You okay?" a runny-nosed boy came running, looking him over curiously.
"Who said that? I didn't get beaten up," Rosha said, patting the boy's head.
"Father Asa said so," a little girl nearby teased, pulling a face. "He said you deserved it!"
"Did he tell you why?"
"No, just that you got it bad."
"You've clearly not studied. For anything, you need to know the cause before judging the result," Rosha scolded seriously.
The girl pouted, giving him a strange look before muttering, "There's no school here. My mother says only nobles' children can study."
"Er…" Rosha was at a loss for words, when suddenly a child shouted, "Red Hair's here!"
The children around him scattered instantly.
Rosha looked up to see a merchant entering the village with a huge basket on his back.
He was a fruit seller, traveling from village to village, peddling his goods. The children loved him, swarming around.
Nearby, a general-goods merchant sat dejected. His stall was ignored. He was a vastaya, with fox-like ears and tail—clearly one of the foxfolk from the land-bound tribes.
Rosha stared openly. In his memory, fox spirits existed only in myth.
"It's rude to stare," came a smack on the back of his head. He didn't need to guess—it was his old man.
"Father, it's a foxfolk! My first time seeing one—so beautiful!" Rosha's eyes shone.
"You still shouldn't gawk like that," Asa grumbled, dragging him toward the fields.
"But he really is beautiful," Rosha muttered, glancing back at the merchant.
"He's male," Asa said flatly.
That shut Rosha right up. His words stuck in his throat.
Seeing his son's dejected face, Asa added, "Ever heard of the Jewel of Ionia?"
"I've heard the name. Is she beautiful?" Rosha asked, half-hearted.
"You've not read your books? Strange, I thought you'd finished them all. The Jewel of Ionia is foxfolk too."
"I skipped that part. Didn't think it useful," Rosha admitted, uninterested.
"Well, she's foxfolk. And she has nine tails," Asa said casually.
"What?! Old man, why didn't you say earlier? I need to read that book again!" Rosha exclaimed, trying to run home, but Asa grabbed his ear and dragged him toward the fields. The farm wasn't done yet, and running off was not allowed.
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