Until We Meet Again

Not even a day later than the successful siege, the rebels had already mourned their losses, and were preparing the celebrations for their biggest win in history. Crystalor had been liberated. The lands of Estundia had been freed from the stolen relic’s corruption. Although it would take a while for the Crystalor citizens to trust their new leaders, the clear absence of Corrosion made most of them see the fall of Crystalor with favour. But while the future was uncertain, it was certainly looking up. As for the Lock and Key…

It was time to move on to their next quest in pursuit of Draven.

Rokuro and Kagi stood in front of a big gathering. Soldiers of Emberhold stood at the back, like a guard of honor, Ravuun standing on the front flanked by Yanissa and Basko. At the front stood their companions. Lykos, Nero, Selka and even young Sana… who had evaded the worst of it after the Corrosion disappeared.

Rokuro straightened out his polished purple jacket, not caring at all about the small band aids littering his face.

“Hm. Shiny as new.” He grinned.

“Who even fixed that piece of crap for you?” Nero narrowed his eyes in disgust.

“I did!” Selka perked up, “Shouldn’t I have?” She tilted her head.

“Why's everybody got beef with my jacket, Oi?!”

Kagi laughed behind her hand, then turned to the people around her.

“You’ll be okay over here?”

“Us?” Selka looked around too, “Sure! The people will warm up to us, no doubt!”

“Yeah, the problem is since this isn’t really Crystalor anymore…” Nero opened his arms, “It needs a new name. Yet nobody voted for Nerolandia…”

“…I wonder why?” Kagi deadpanned.

“Yeah! Selkucia didn’t make it either!”

“…You don’t say.” Rokuro sighed.

Kagi turned to Rokuro tugging at his sleeve.

“Roku, the gate is ready to be opened again.”

“Got it.”

“Remember. We won’t be transported to the exact same spot Draven did, but we’ll be near.”

“That’s all I ask for.” Rokuro punched his gauntlet.

Realizing it was time to say goodbye, everybody stiffened.

From behind the others, a small figure stepped forward. Sana. Her steps were hesitant, but her chin lifted, trying hard to be brave. She looked up at Rokuro, her eyes already glassy.

“…Thank you for saving me… Roku.” Her voice was soft, trembling, but clear. Her usual energetic personality was long gone, instead replaced by a timid girl with tears in her eyes.

Rokuro blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone. For a moment, he scratched his cheek, looking anywhere but her.

But then he nodded to himself, and turned back to face her, resolute.

“…Likewise, kid.”

After all… her presence had saved him too. Because this time he didn’t repeat his mistakes. He didn’t back down. He didn’t freeze. He acted.

And these actions had saved her.

He reached into his jacket. Fingers brushed the cool metal of Kana’s pendant—the one he’d carried with him since that day. He held it for a moment, thumb grazing its familiar grooves. His chest tightened.

And now I’ll save you too, sis…

Her eyes sparkled, brimming with unshed tears. “…I’ll wait for you. Someday… you’ll come back, right?”

The words struck him harder than any blade. He knew the truth—he probably never would. But he didn’t have it in him to crush that hope. Yet… despite there being next to zero possibility for it to come true, Rokuro chose to hope otherwise.

“I won’t forget it, Sana.”

Sana smiled through her tears. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like you.”

Rokuro froze. The grin slipped for a moment, replaced by something raw. He bit down on the lump in his throat, forcing the smile back. “Then you better be tougher than me. ’Cause that ain’t saying much.”

Sana laughed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

Kagi stepped forward, kneeling slightly so she was eye level with the girl. She brushed back Sana’s bangs and smiled faintly. “You’re brave, Sana. Don’t ever change.”

Sana nodded hard, like she was making a vow.

Sana stepped back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, and Selka immediately filled the space. She threw her arms around Kagi, squeezing her tight.

“The trees will be lonely not talking to you anymore…” Selka sniffled, her voice cracking.

Kagi’s lips curved into a small, soft smile. “Then I’ll think about them, too. About you.”

Selka squeezed tighter, then reluctantly let go, wiping her face with both hands. “Ugh, crying makes me look like a mess.”

“You look fine,” Kagi said simply.

Rokuro folded his arms. “Just… keep yourself out of trouble, alright?”

Selka turned on him with sudden fire, grabbing his shoulders. “And you—keep Kagi safe. No matter what! If you don’t, I’ll find a way to cross realms and haunt you!”

“Eh—?!” Rokuro’s eyes widened.

“That’s ominous as hell,” Nero muttered.

Selka smirked despite the tears on her eyes.

Rokuro turned to him next. Nero thrust his hand out, firm. Rokuro stared at it for a beat—it wasn’t exactly a Japanese custom—but then clasped it, gripping tight.

“You can always call this place home, you know,” Nero said quietly.

Rokuro blinked. “…It was cool having a friend in another world.”

“We’re not friends, dumbass.” Nero scoffed.

“HUH?!”

Nero cracked a grin. “…You’re my little brother.”

Selka squealed, “OHHH!”

Rokuro flushed red to the tips of his ears. “W-what the hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Means what it means.” Nero shrugged, pulling back his hand. “Don’t make me repeat it.”

Kagi, hiding a smile, inclined her head. “Take care, Nero.”

“You too, Kagi. And keep this fool out of trouble,” Nero replied.

“…I’ll try.”

Last came Lykos. Still battered and bandaged, he stepped forward slowly. Conditioning his body with aetherfruit helped him avoid the worst after consuming the elixir but it still left lingering damage.

Rokuro expected a handshake, but instead Lykos reached out with his remaining hand and ruffled Rokuro’s hair aggressively.

“Oi—cut it out, old man!” Rokuro flailed.

“Don’t forget your training, kid.” Lykos said flatly.

Rokuro froze, then smiled faintly, straightening his hair. “…Wouldn’t dream of it, sensei.”

Lykos nodded once, his voice quieter, but heavy with meaning. “It was an honor, Lock. Rokuro.”

“Likewise.” Rokuro said, grinning crookedly.

Lykos had gone from a cranky man to an unexpected role model for him.

Then Ravuun stepped forward, raising his arm. His voice thundered across the square.

“Time to say farewell to the Lock and Key of legend! Without them, this victory would never have been possible. Casters!”

Dozens of glowing orbs lifted into the sky, bursting like fireworks—Aether exploding in radiant blossoms of light. The rebels saluted.

Ravuun turned back to them both, bowing his head in a rare show of humility.

“We thank you, Rokuro and Kagi. Emberhold—the whole of Estundia—will remember you for centuries to come. This time… history will revere the right individuals.”

The two of them nodded. Then Kagi lifted her hand, thumb and index finger outstretched. Then swirling light bloomed into a portal of violet and blue, spiraling open before them.

Rokuro looked back one last time—at Sana’s tears, Selka’s smile, Nero’s steady gaze, and Lykos’ scarred face—and exhaled through his nose.

He turned to Kagi.

“So… you mean we have to do this all over again?”

“Probably.” Kagi smirked.

Rokuro sighed. “This job doesn’t get easier, huh?”

“That’s why you have me by your side.”

He cracked a smile. “Every sky needs its clouds…”

“…Every captain needs a ship.”

“…And every lock needs its key.”

They stepped through together. The portal closed, reality bending away once more.

Selka wiped her eyes, whispering through a shaky laugh. “They came in like a storm, didn’t they?”

Nero watched the empty air where the portal had been, his voice quiet. “…And they left like one too.”

Rokuro and Kagi had arrived in an unknown land. Made friends and foes alike, committed mistakes and righted wrongs. They liberated an entire populace, came to terms with their roles, and were now heading somewhere far off in another realm…

But deep within him Rokuro felt it. All the pain, the suffering, the grief. He would gladly experience it all over again. Because being a Lock didn’t mean being a perfect hero. For him being a Lock meant never giving up on the ones who believed in him.