The skyship docked smoothly on the edge of Windblessed Vale—a lush valley nestled between glistening peaks and vibrant meadows where the wind always seemed to hum with a melody of its own. It was Sera's homeland, and the moment she stepped off the ship, a breeze danced around her like an old friend welcoming her back.
Zane trailed behind, shadow armor long dismissed, bags slung awkwardly over his shoulder.
"Remind me why I agreed to this again?" he muttered, stumbling slightly as a gust tugged at his cloak.
Sera turned, smiling brightly. "Because you didn't want to be left alone sulking at the academy while I got all the good food and fresh air."
Zane scoffed but didn't deny it.
A tall, elegant woman stood near a stone archway, her long silver hair flowing and her eyes the same piercing violet as Sera's. "Mother!" Sera called out, running up for a warm embrace.
Lady Elowen Windwhisper, the matriarch of the Windcrest family, looked over Sera's shoulder directly at Zane. "And who is this young man carrying my daughter's bags?"
Zane froze. Sera smirked. "Mother, this is Zane. He saved my life—twice, actually."
Zane cleared his throat. "Only did what anyone would do... if they had a cursed sword, a sarcastic voice in their head, and a tendency to get into trouble."
Lady Elowen arched an amused brow. "Interesting."
They entered the Windcrest estate, a sprawling palace-like manor made of lightstone and breezewood. Curtains flowed like water, and strange birds chirped melodies that echoed across the courtyard.
Sera led Zane to his room—large, breezy, with a bed that looked too expensive to sleep in.
"Don't touch anything sharp," she teased. "Or magical."
Zane was already poking a windchime that sent a current of air spiraling into his face. "No promises."