A Journey to the North

  At dawn, Senya turned toward the northern road.

  The journey home felt shorter than he remembered—but heavier.

  When the gates of his hometown came into view, he stopped.

  The walls were higher. The watchtowers new. The streets wider, unfamiliar. Even the air felt different.

  “This… isn’t how I left it,” he muttered.

  A passing guard glanced at him.

  “You look lost. First time here?”

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  Senya almost laughed.

  “…No,” he replied quietly. “I was born here.”

  As he walked through the streets, memories clashed with reality. Training grounds had expanded. Old houses were gone. New banners flew where none had before.

  Only then did it settle in.

  Five years.

  Five years since he had walked away in silence. Five years since the clan had turned its back on him. Five years of nothing but steel, sweat, and resolve.

  “So much has changed,” Senya whispered.

  He tightened his grip around the hilt at his waist.

  But he hadn’t.

  The pride he lost still waited for him here.

  And this time,

  he had come to reclaim it.