Once the light faded, the three of them stood on shaky legs—except now, they were children.
Rae blinked down at her much smaller hands, leaves and vines weaving modestly over her figure. Yungwoo and Hangyeol looked equally bewildered, faces young and wide-eyed.
"Uh... Rae? Why are you covered in plants?" Yungwoo asked, watching her rummage through a small purse.
"Because I had to improvise," Rae replied. "I need to get clothes for us, and we need to talk about finding the Golden Child." She glanced toward Misty. "Also, ages?"
"The Golden Child has not yet been born," Misty's voice echoed calmly. "Current ages: Rae, ten. Yungwoo, eight. Hangyeol, seven and a half."
Rae gave a small nod. With a snap of her fingers, her outfit shifted—a worn peasant's dress, rough but decent. She tossed simple shirts and pants toward the boys. They scrambled to change, still processing the shift.
Just as Rae tucked her purse back into a shimmering pocket space, a sharp breeze swept through the trees.
She froze.
Tension rippled through her body.
"Rae? What's wrong?" Hangyeol whispered.
"When I say run—run," Rae said quietly, daggers flickering into her hands. "Misty, prepare the systems."
Before the boys could ask another question, the ground rumbled beneath them—deep, rhythmic, unnatural.
"RUN!" Rae shouted.
Without hesitation, Yungwoo grabbed Hangyeol's hand and bolted north through the trees. Their smaller bodies stumbled over roots and rocks, lungs burning with each breath.
Petals and Sweets zipped ahead, lightening their steps.
"Don't worry about Rae!" Sweets chirped, though its voice trembled. "She's dealt with worse. We need to get you safe."
"I—I can't help it!" Hangyeol gasped, tears slipping free. "She's just a kid like us, and she's out there alone!"
"She's stronger than you know," Petals whispered, flying near his cheek.
They broke into a clearing, collapsing in the grass. Yungwoo fell to his knees, chest heaving; Hangyeol sprawled out, face flushed.
Petals hovered above Yungwoo. "Now. We need to unlock your weapons. It's time."
Still panting, Yungwoo frowned. "But—Rae—"
"We can help her if needed," Petals insisted gently. "But you need strength first."
Sweets floated toward Hangyeol. "Reach out. Feel your weapon's soul."
Hangyeol squeezed his fists, shutting his eyes tight. His small frame shook—not from exhaustion now, but raw determination.
"I won't be useless," he whispered.
A faint hum resonated through the clearing. Vines coiled around his wrist, glowing faintly. Sweets buzzed excitedly.
"Good!" Sweets beamed. "You're connecting!"
Nearby, Petals smiled. "Yungwoo—your turn. Close your eyes. Listen."
Yungwoo swallowed hard, then obeyed. A cool breeze circled him, soft as a mother's touch. He reached inward—past the fear, past the racing thoughts—and felt something ancient stir within him.
A voice, gentle as falling petals:
"I am here, Yungwoo. Call me."
His lips parted. "Petalsword," he whispered.
A shaft of wood-and-vine unfurled in his hand, tipped with a crystalline blade that pulsed with emerald light.
The clearing seemed to hold its breath.
YOU ARE READING
A Wandering Story
FantasyOne morning, a young woman awoke-still caught in the same endless cycle that had haunted her for lifetimes. Her day began as it always did: quiet, methodical, devoted to mending the broken world she currently called home. But then she heard voices-u...
