The Life After Death

  Chapter 10: The Road Ahead

  The open fields stretched far and wide, a sea of gold and green undulating in the soft breeze. The horizon seemed endless, blending seamlessly with the pale blue sky. Wildflowers dotted the landscape, their vibrant colors creating patches of beauty amidst the grassy expanse. The soft murmur of the wind carried the scent of earth and grass, mingling with the faint, rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels.

  It struck me then, how vastly different this was from my past life. Views like this were non-existent. The world I knew was dominated by towering structures and cold technology, where the idea of an open field was little more than a scene on a digital screen. To witness this kind of untouched beauty with my own eyes felt surreal, as though I was experiencing something stolen from a dream.

  I leaned forward, my chin resting on the edge of the carriage window as I took it all in. "You weren’t lying, Dad," I said, glancing at Raiden, who sat opposite me. "Verdant Vale was beautiful, but this... this feels like stepping into a painting."

  Raiden grinned, ruffling my hair. "The world’s full of wonders, son. Just wait until we reach Aetheria. This—" he gestured to the fields, "is just the beginning."

  Brannick, perched on the driver’s seat with the reins in hand, called back over his shoulder. "You’re getting spoiled, kid! Don’t get too comfortable with all this beauty. The world’s got plenty of nasty surprises waiting to bite you in the rear."

  Helena giggled, "sounds like you’re speaking from experience, Brannick. Did a nasty surprise bite you before?"

  Brannick laughed, a deep, hearty sound. "Once or twice! But don’t worry, little lady. I’ve learned to keep my rear covered. Unlike you two kids who are too busy gawking at flowers to see what’s creeping up behind you."

  I smirked. "Don’t worry, Brannick. If something jumps out, I’ll let Helena deal with it. She’s too strong with her wand. That’s more than enough to handle any surprise."

  Helena crossed her arms, feigning indignation. "Oh, so now I’m the one doing all the work? Typical little brother behavior."

  Kaelith’s soft laughter drew our attention. She sat beside Elara, her green eyes glinting with amusement. "Brannick might have a point, though. You two could use a little more awareness. The world isn’t always this peaceful."

  Elara’s smile was faint but warm. "Let them enjoy it for now, Kae. They’ll learn soon enough."

  Kaelith’s gaze lingered on Elara for a moment longer than necessary, her expression softening into something almost wistful. "You’re right," she said quietly. "They’ve got time."

  A couple of hours into our journey, Brannick slowed the carriage near a shaded grove. The horses’ labored breaths signalled their need for rest. "Alright, folks," Brannick announced as he hopped down. "Time for a break. Let the horses catch their breath and grab yourselves a bite."

  We quickly settled into the grove. Raiden and Kaelith worked together to unpack provisions, while Helena excitedly ran circles around the area, dragging me along in her antics. Before stepping out of the carriage, I made sure Elara was comfortable and settled. I adjusted her blankets and ensured she had everything she needed within reach. “Mom, are you feeling okay?” I asked softly, my voice tinged with guilt.

  She gave me a faint smile, her hand reaching out to rest gently on mine. “I’m fine, my sweet boy. Stop worrying so much.”

  “I can’t help it,” I admitted, lowering my gaze. “It’s my fault you’re like this. If I hadn’t—”

  “Hush,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. Her dark eyes, filled with warmth, met mine. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Emrys. It was magic beyond anyone’s control. What matters is that we’re together, and you’re doing everything you can to help me. That’s enough.”

  Her words, though soothing, didn’t erase the weight in my chest. But her hand squeezed mine lightly, grounding me in the moment. “Thank you, Mom,” I whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead before stepping out. It was a small gesture, but one that made the brief time away feel less worrisome.

  Meanwhile, Brannick and Mira took up positions on opposite ends of the grove, their eyes scanning the surroundings.

  My gaze drifted to Brannick, who leaned casually against a tree, his axe-like shield resting on the ground beside him. The weapon was massive, nearly as tall as the man himself, with a broad blade that gleamed under the sunlight. Intricate carvings adorned the metal, depicting twisting vines and roaring beasts. The shield’s edge was sharp enough to serve as an offensive weapon, while its weight and size made it an impenetrable barrier.

  On the other side, Mira stood silent and watchful, her twin daggers glinting at her hips. The blades were sleek and elegant, their curves reminiscent of a predator’s claws. The hilts were wrapped in black leather.

  "Brannick," I called, approaching the towering man. "That shield of yours... does it double as a weapon?"

  Brannick grinned, hefting the shield with one hand. "Damn right it does, kid. You’d be surprised how many fights I’ve ended by smashing someone with this beauty."

  "And Mira’s daggers?" I asked, glancing toward her.

  Mira turned her piercing blue gaze toward me, her voice soft but firm. "Speed and precision," she said simply. "Not all fights are won by brute strength."

  My mind immediately wandered back to my past life, where carrying weapons openly was the mark of criminals or mercenaries. The thought of everyone here casually wielding anything they desire, made me feel like I’d been dropped into a world made just for someone like me.

  Back then, stifling a grin, the only time you’d see someone walking around armed to the teeth was when they were about to kill someone or show dominance. Here, it’s like carrying a weapon is as normal as wearing shoes. The absurdity of the comparison made me snicker quietly to myself.

  As we sat down to eat, I couldn’t contain my curiosity. "Why does everyone carry weapons? I mean, isn’t magic enough?"

  Kaelith leaned back against a tree, her bow and quiver resting beside her. "Magic is powerful," she began, "but it’s not limitless. There are times when your mana runs dry. That’s when a weapon becomes your lifeline. A good weapon can mean the difference between survival and defeat. It’s not just a backup; it’s an extension of your abilities, a tool to keep you fighting when magic falters. And for some," she added with a faint smile, tapping her bow, "it’s as much a part of them as their manaheart."

  Raiden nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Weapons also amplify your abilities. For Emanators, like me, they’re extensions of our strength. For Reservists, staffs with mana crystals are like reservoirs of mana. That’s why I gave you that dagger, Emrys. One day, you’ll understand how important it is to have both tools and skills."

  I glanced at the dagger strapped to my side, its polished surface glinting faintly. "I think I’m starting to get it," I said, my voice thoughtful. The possibilities seemed endless, a blend of blade and magic, precision and power. It was a thrilling thought, though I knew I had much to learn before I could wield them in harmony.

  Brannick’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts. "Alright, break time’s over! Let’s get moving."

  Everyone quickly gathered their belongings and finished tidying the area. Raiden and Kaelith packed up the provisions while Helena helped ensure Elara was secure and comfortable inside the carriage. Mira gave a final sweep of the grove with her sharp eyes before nodding at Brannick, who climbed back onto the driver’s seat.

  "Everyone ready?" Brannick called, reins in hand.

  "Let’s go," Raiden replied, his voice firm. The carriage groaned slightly as it began rolling forward, and soon we were back on the road, the gentle rhythm of the wheels on the dirt path filling the air.

  Days passed as we journeyed further east, the scenery gradually shifting from rolling fields to rugged terrain. The ground grew rockier, the air cooler, and distant peaks loomed ever larger on the horizon. I learned that the mountain range we approached was known as The Divide, a natural barrier between Verdant Vale to the south west and Aetheria to the north east.

  The journey wasn’t without its challenges. On more than one occasion, the carriage’s wheels got stuck in the thick, uneven mud after a heavy downpour.

  Brannick’s deep, grumbling complaints about the ‘worthless excuse for a road’ made everyone chuckle, especially when he waved off any offers of help. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves, planted his feet firmly in the ground, and called upon his earth magic. The mud seemed to respond to his will, hardening into solid stone beneath the wheels.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, he gave the carriage a shove, sending it rolling forward with ease. "See that?" he said, dusting his hands off. "No need for fire magic here." Helena laughed, "If you’re so good with the earth, maybe you should’ve fixed the whole road, Brannick!"

  Then there were the sudden rain showers that left us scrambling to cover the supplies. I’ll never forget the sight of Mira standing stoically in the downpour, her twin daggers glinting as she stood guard, while Kaelith, completely drenched, muttered about how fire magic and rain just didn’t mix. “If I wanted to be this miserable, I’d take a bath with my clothes on,” she quipped, wringing out her hair.

  About a week later, we stopped by a riverside to wash off the grime and rain-soaked discomfort. Kaelith and Raiden worked together to help Elara clean up, their movements careful and deliberate.

  I caught Kaelith blushing as she glanced at Raiden, who had stripped off his shirt to wade into the water. Her blush deepened when her wet clothes clung to her figure, revealing the faint outline of her curvaceous chest beneath the damp white cotton under top, her confidence faltering as Raiden glanced away, his face tinged with embarrassment.

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  From behind them, Elara’s soft voice broke the awkward silence. “What is it with you two?” she asked, her tone laced with dry amusement. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

  I nearly choked on air, my eyes widening as I turned toward her. “Mom! What the heck?” I exclaimed, my voice cracking slightly. “Why are you so normal about this? And why is everyone so weird?”

  Elara only smiled faintly, her expression calm. “Oh, Emrys. You’ll understand one day.”

  “Understand what? That everyone here has zero sense of boundaries?” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief. Even Kaelith, still blushing, coughed awkwardly and avoided making eye contact with anyone.

  Helena and I washed up downstream, and the familiarity of it reminded me of our bath times together at home. Helena hummed a tune as she splashed water on her face, her silver-white hair shimmering like liquid moonlight. But it was the exposed upper right side of her back—just below her shoulder blade—that caught my attention again.

  That birthmark.

  Helena never mentioned it, and Elara and Raiden acted as though nothing about her was unusual.

  Maybe Mom or Dad knows, filing the thought away for later. Her growing body was a subtle reminder of how time was passing for both of us.

  Why am I even analyzing this? My face flushed as if the river water had suddenly turned hot. Helena, of course, noticed my expression and tilted her head in confusion.

  "Are you looking at me again, Em?" Helena teased, her grin mischievous and full of confidence, striking a dramatic pose as though I was meant to admire her.

  "No! Why would I ever look at a fish?" I stammered, my face burning as I caught Helena’s exaggerated gasp of mock offense. Her eyes widened dramatically, and she placed her hands on her hips, giving me the most theatrical pout I had ever seen.

  "Excuse me? Did you just compare me to a fish?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux indignation. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a sudden burst of water magic, the wave knocking me off my feet and sending me sprawling back onto the riverbank. Coughing and sputtering, I glared at her while she laughed uncontrollably.

  "Hel! What the heck?" I shouted, shaking water out of my ears. "You’re impossible!"

  But it wasn’t all humor. During one particularly quiet night, while the campfire’s flames flickered under the starry sky, we heard a distant howl that broke my sleep. The Ember Order’s relaxed demeanor shifted instantly. Brannick and Mira stood, weapons ready, while Raiden’s hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Kaelith’s bow was already strung, her sharp green eyes scanning the shadows.

  "Sounds like wolves," Mira said softly, her voice calm but edged with caution. "And not just one, could be a pack."

  Brannick frowned, his jaw tightening. "We’re too exposed here. Give me a moment." He stomped his foot into the ground, his hands glowing with a soft, golden hue as he muttered, "Terra Viva, murum surgat et protegat omnes! Earthforge!"

  The earth responded almost immediately, rising up around the camp to form a protective dome. The wall was smooth and curved, with small gaps near the top to allow air to circulate. I stared in awe as the structure solidified, giving us a secure barrier against the unseen threat.

  "A little snug, but it’ll do," Brannick grunted, wiping his hands on his pants. "That should keep anything out until morning."

  I tilted my head, studying him curiously. "You’re an earth mage, right? I guess something like this is second nature to you."

  Brannick straightened, resting a hand on the dome with a look of pride. "Second nature? Maybe. But it still takes skill to shape something like this quickly and keep it stable."

  I ran a hand along the wall’s surface, marvelling at its texture. "It’s like stone, but... alive," I murmured, tracing the subtle veins of glowing mana that pulsed through the earth. "And the holes at the top; are those for oxygen?"

  Brannick gave me a sidelong glance and a wry grin. "Smart kid. Didn’t think you’d notice that."

  Helena, sitting cross-legged near the fire, gave a mock shiver. "Let’s just hope nothing decides to test your magic, Brannick. I like sleeping without wolves trying to chew my feet off."

  Kaelith chuckled, her bow resting loosely in her lap. "Don’t worry, Helena. If they try, they’ll have to get through us first."

  Despite the light banter, the tension lingered in the air. The faint howls continued in the distance, a haunting melody that seemed to dance on the edges of the night. As I sat close to the fire, watching the shadows shift across the dome, I couldn’t help but feel a newfound respect for the Ember Order. They weren’t just skilled fighters; they were protectors, each of them carrying a quiet strength that gave me a sense of safety I hadn’t realized I needed.

  This feeling felt different in comparison to my past life, where safety was a foreign concept. Back then, I only had myself to rely on, every moment spent looking over my shoulder, constantly on edge. This sense of security—of knowing someone else had my back—was entirely new, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  Yet, as I sat by the fire and watched the Ember Order move with silent coordination and unwavering resolve, I felt a pull of curiosity. I wanted to understand them, to know what drove them, and, perhaps selfishly, to hold onto this fragile feeling of safety for as long as I could.

  Over the rest of the weeks, I learned that all of them were at the late Sunstone stage of their manaheart, except for Mira, who was in the early stage of Verdant. The revelation left me awestruck as I hadn’t even sensed it.

  It was Mira herself who brought it up during one of our training sessions. "You’re quite persistent, Emrys," she said, her voice calm but firm, "but you push too hard when trying to sense manahearts. It leaves a mana scent that someone like me can pick up on easily."

  I blinked at her, startled. "A mana scent?"

  She nodded, her piercing blue eyes studying me intently. "Yes, like a trail you leave behind. You’re still learning, so it’s forgivable. The higher your manaheart is, the more mana you need to exert to sense it," she said, her tone as emotionless as always. "If you have proper control of your mana, you can condense the amount you release, leaving nothing for others to detect. I will teach you one day."

  Her words left a deep impression on me. I realized not just how strong she was, but how disciplined. To be at the Verdant stage and move so fluidly, without revealing her presence, was a skill I couldn’t fathom yet. It made me want to train harder, not just to grow stronger, but to refine my control to that level of mastery.

  As our journey went on, I found myself training openly with my family and the Ember Order any time we stopped, especially with Mira. Her mastery of air magic was both inspiring and intimidating, and it made her the perfect mentor as I tried to refine my abilities. Helena joined us, her water magic adding an unpredictable and dynamic element to each session.

  One afternoon, as the wind rustled through the trees around our camp, Mira stood a few feet from me, her expression as emotionless as ever. "Focus on your intent, Emrys," she instructed. "Air magic is not just about strength, it’s about precision. Every movement, every thought must have purpose."

  "Show me," I said, gripping my dagger tightly.

  Mira didn’t hesitate. She raised her hand and muttered an incantation: "Aeris Celeris, pulsa hostem! Gust!"

  A sharp gust of wind erupted from her palm, cutting cleanly through the air and slicing a small branch off a nearby tree. The branch fell to the ground with a soft thud as the wind dispersed. "Now, your turn," she said, her tone even.

  I nodded and focused, raising my dagger. I imagined the same sharp gust, the same cutting precision. Without thinking, I slashed the air. To my shock, a burst of wind surged forward, mimicking Mira’s spell perfectly. It tore through another branch, scattering leaves in its wake.

  The camp fell silent. Mira froze, her usually impassive expression flickering with surprise. Helena’s mouth hung open for a moment before she broke the silence with a triumphant shout. "I told you so! I told you he could do it Papa!"

  I turned to her, still gripping the dagger, my mind reeling. "What just happened?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Mira’s piercing gaze fixed on me. "You performed the spell without an incantation," she said slowly. "Incantation-less mages are exceedingly rare. It explains why your magic is so tied to your intent."

  I stared at my hands, the weight of her words sinking in.

  Helena crossed her arms, smirking. "Maybe you should listen to me more often, Em. Remember the night of your awakening?"

  I couldn’t help but remember that moment after my fire affinity had awakened, Helena had wrapped me in a blanket. At the time, I’d dismissed it, brushing off her words as something I couldn’t possibly understand at the time. Now, the memory burned in my mind, her statement aligning perfectly with what had just happened.

  Mira stepped closer, her voice calm but firm. "This changes things. If you can wield magic without an incantation, you’ll need to train differently. It’s a gift, but it’s also a responsibility. Mastering it will require even greater discipline."

  The others who had been watching our session murmured amongst themselves, their eyes wide with curiosity and awe. Brannick was the first to break the silence, turning to Raiden and Elara with a wide grin. "You’ve got a child who’s an incantation-less mage. You must be proud. That’s no small thing."

  Raiden’s fiery red mane seemed to catch the light as he stood a little straighter. "Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it," he said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and surprise. He glanced at Elara, his expression softening. "We’ve always known he was special, but this... this is something else."

  Elara’s dark eyes shimmered with a quiet pride, though her voice was laced with a weariness that reflected the pain she endured. "It’s a gift, but he's still my little one," she said softly, her words measured and deliberate.

  Brannick chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Incantation-less mages are rare, but they’re also unpredictable. You’ll need to make sure he doesn’t accidentally blow us all away."

  Helena laughed, breaking the tension as she nudged me again. "Don’t let it go to your head, Em. I’m still better at water magic than you are at air."

  I rolled my eyes, but her teasing helped ease the weight of the moment. "Alright, alright, Hel. Let me enjoy this for a second before you start bragging again."

  One thing that continuously crossed my mind was how Raiden and Elara never mentioned my dual affinity to the Ember Order. I had avoided using my fire magic entirely since the night it first awakened—the memory of what I did to Elara haunted me too much. It felt uncontrollable, unpredictable, and I wasn’t ready to risk hurting anyone else. So, I focused entirely on refining my air magic, telling myself that mastering one affinity was enough for now.

  But deep down, I wanted to try. I wanted to test my fire magic, to understand it and prove to myself that I could control it. Still, every time the thought surfaced, I pushed it aside, fearing that even attempting it would unravel the fragile peace we had.

  And maybe that was why they hadn’t mentioned my dual affinity. Maybe they don’t want word to get out. I imagined how such knowledge could spread like wildfire, drawing unwanted attention. Perhaps they were protecting me, keeping my abilities a secret until I was ready to handle the weight of what that meant.

  Despite the progress we made, Elara’s condition remained a constant worry. Raiden was a pillar of support, always by her side, his reassuring presence offering her strength. Helena poured her heart into using water magic to soothe her burns, her determination fierce as she refused to let fatigue stop her.

  Kaelith’s attempts to console Elara were more restrained, but I couldn’t miss the subtle blush on her face or the jealousy flickering in her green eyes as she glanced at Raiden. For my part, I did everything I could to help, whether it was fetching fresh bandages or simply sitting by her side when the pain was too much for her to speak.

  The sight of her injuries gnawed at my resolve, a painful reminder of how my own magic had hurt her. Every wince, every strained breath she took felt like a silent accusation, though she never once blamed me. I tried to focus on the positives—her state hadn’t worsened, and the Ember Order’s presence gave us hope—but the lack of improvement weighed heavily on us all.

  By the time we reached the foothills of The Divide, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the rocky landscape. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth.

  "We’ll stop here for the night," Raiden announced, his voice cutting through the evening stillness. "We’re about three weeks away from Aetheria, but before that, we’ll have to ascend The Divide and then descend it on the other side. It’s going to be tough, so let’s rest while we can."

  As we dismounted and began setting up camp, I cast my gaze toward the towering peaks ahead, their jagged silhouettes etched against the fading light. The thought of climbing those immense heights filled me with both anticipation and trepidation. Our journey was far from over, but for the first time, I felt a spark of hope. Each step forward brought us closer to the healing we sought, even if the path ahead looked daunting.