[Year 482 AL]
The sun rose gently over Lyria, painting soft gold across the rooftops of the quiet village. The smell of bread and herbs drifted from the kitchen, pulling Aeron Smith from sleep as he stretched and stepped out into the warm light of morning.
Downstairs, Jack was already seated at the wooden table, repairing an old sword with steady hands. Laura hummed quietly while arranging plates. Aeron smiled, a rare calm washing over him.
"About time you woke up, big brother," Laura teased.
Aeron ruffled her hair. "I was training late last night. I need to be stronger."
Jack chuckled quietly. "Strength isn't only muscle. Remember what your mother used to say — a strong heart protects more than a strong arm."
Aeron's smile softened as his eyes flicked to the empty chair at the table, where Mirra once sat. Two years, and yet the silence still hurt.
They ate together — warm bread, eggs, spiced vegetables. Aeron laughed when Laura complained about chores, and Jack told old stories about tournament fools who tripped on their own swords. It was simple. Ordinary. Perfect.
A soft knock came at the door.
Sofea Light stepped inside, carrying a bundle of flowers.
Her smile was gentle, though her eyes were shy when they met Aeron's.
"I wanted to bring these for your mother's place at the shrine," she said quietly.
Aeron nodded, uncomfortable with the way everyone watched them — the engaged couple who barely knew each other's hearts. But Sofea's kindness filled the room like sunlight.
Jack winked. "Take your time, you two. We'll clean up."
Outside, Sofea placed the flowers by the garden stone that marked Mirra's memory.
"She would be proud of you, Aeron," Sofea whispered.
Aeron looked away. "I hope so."
Sofea gave a small smile. "Will you join me later for training practice?"
"Maybe," Aeron replied. "I'm visiting the old shrine today. I want to… understand something."
She tilted her head, puzzled, but nodded.
"Be careful. The old legends say that place is dangerous."
Aeron laughed softly. "They're just stories."
He didn't know that in a matter of hours, everything would change.
That this morning, this quiet breakfast, this gentle sunlight and laughter—
was the last time he would ever sit with his family.