The light returned slowly, like warmth creeping into numb limbs.
The Sunstone around Kai's neck pulsed with a steady rhythm, his rhythm. His heartbeat had changed. Stronger. Older. As if it belonged to someone who had once ruled.
He opened his eyes. The shelter was silent, the embers of his fire still glowing. Lyra stood at the doorway, arms crossed. Valthyr waited just beyond the threshold, his form flickering in and out of shadow.
Kai could hear everything.
The scurry of mice beneath the snow. The drip of water on stone. A fox's breath a mile away.
And beneath all of it, whispers. Not the old whispers of warning and mystery, but voices now clear and deliberate.
His ancestors.
"What must I do?" Kai asked. His voice sounded... deeper. Rooted. As if he spoke with more than one tongue.
Valthyr raised his massive head.
"You must reclaim what was stolen. The throne of Eldoria. The land cries for its king."
Lyra stepped forward, her tone pragmatic but edged with urgency.
"Sgaazoz's grip is tightening. His blight spreads through the valleys. Villages are dying. People are afraid to even speak the old names."
Kai's breath caught. "Eldoria... I remember the name. Barely. Like a dream half-lost."
"Not a dream," Valthyr said. "A memory. Yours."
Kai turned toward the forest, his old world. He could feel it retreating, inch by inch, like mist at sunrise.
"I never asked for any of this," he whispered.
"No king ever does," Valthyr replied gently. "But they rise all the same."
Lyra softened her stance. "You're not alone, Kai. We've watched you. We believe in you. And... we need you."
She handed him a small pouch. Inside, dried leaves and a rough cloth wrap. "For the journey."
He nodded, still dazed. "Then the journey begins now."
Outside, the Everwood stirred.
The trees swayed though there was no wind. Birds that hadn't sung in months trilled a strange new melody. The moss underfoot felt warmer.
Even the forest knew.
The king had awoken.