Memories In Every Stone

The halls of the basic dorms weren’t as she left them — chaos swelled through the corridors as students hurried out of their rooms, scrambling not to miss class. Yet some still found the time to notice Rose as she weaved through the storm.

She moved with practiced ease. Every step was deliberate, measured, careful to avoid attention. Even though she and Kai were now legally free to leave, the habit of caution lingered. It was unlikely, but she refused to give the Academy any chance to uncover her tether or revoke her confirmation. She had no intention of wasting another moment here.

When she reached Kai’s room, the door was slightly ajar. A hint of worry crossed her face. She pushed it open to find sunlight spilling across the floorboards.

Kai stood beneath the glow, adjusting a neatly packed bag on his bed. He turned at the sound of her steps.
“Oh — you’re back fast.” He covered a yawn with his hand.

“I’ve done what I needed to,” she said, eyes softening. “We’re cleared to leave.”

“I’m ready,” he replied simply. “Everything’s packed. I’m good to go.”

She paused, silent for a beat. The faintest curve of a smile appeared. His preparedness surprised her, though she couldn’t hide the small flicker of warmth in her chest.

“Do you have everything?” she asked softly. “It’s going to be a long journey. Anything else you need to say or do before we go?”

He looked toward the doorway, thoughtful. “Well… there’s one thing.”

“And that is?”

“I want to see the willow one more time.”

Rose’s gaze shifted toward the window, then back down the hall. “Let’s wait until things outside settle.”

He nodded, understanding immediately. As she quietly locked the door, an unspoken agreement settled between them. Though free by law, they would leave unnoticed — through the inconspicuous routes, when most had gone to class.

Time passed. Rose rolled up the small map she’d retrieved from her room earlier and slid it into her handbag. “And that’s probably the route we’ll take,” she said.

They double-checked their supplies, then slipped out — careful, silent, like shadows passing through the living pulse of the Academy.

The faculty wing was nearly empty now, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble. Through the oak exits, the courtyard came into view — and there it stood, the willow, proud and quiet as always.

Kai approached first, resting his hand against its rough bark. “I’ll miss this,” he murmured.

Rose followed, her fingers tracing the lines of the trunk. She studied it, seeing what Kai could not — the weight it carried, the way its branches seemed to cradle every secret, every burden left behind by those who stood beneath it. A silent guardian, holding the world’s weight so others wouldn’t have to.

A faint smile curved her lips. “It holds a lot,” she said quietly. “More than you realize. More than anyone realizes.”

Kai nodded, lingering for a moment longer before stepping back. His eyes met hers, clear and resolute.
“Then… shall we go?”

She nodded once. Together, they turned from the willow — toward the main hall, toward the gates that waited beyond.

__________

Thankfully, news of her confirmation reached the Academy guards in time. They stared at the pair, then nodded once — the gesture carrying a silent message: good luck. Rose and Kai slipped past them, reaching a brief clearing at the edge of the Academy’s elevated grounds.

From their vantage, the city stretched below, sprawling in gentle waves of cobbled streets, brick buildings, and the faint shimmer of water in the distance. A path wound down from the hill, leading to the gates and onward into the bustling heart of the city. The sun struck the rooftops, glinting off tiled surfaces and lanterns swaying gently in the morning breeze.

Rose paused for a moment, her gaze drifting westward. Far off, where the streets curved neatly and buildings seemed more organized, she could just make out the shape of her family home. For a heartbeat, she pictured her mother sipping her favorite tea, her father reviewing papers in the sunlit study.

Kai noticed the slight tightening around her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She gave a small nod, brushing the thought away. “It’s nothing.”

Together, they descended the cobbled path, stepping toward the city that had always been a backdrop to Rose’s life, and would now become the beginning of something else.

By the time they reached the city’s edge, the morning was fully alive. Market stalls were being set up, some already bustling with early customers. The smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the crisp air, drifting from the shops lucky enough to have permanent buildings rather than tents or street carts. The cobbled streets traced between low, simple brick structures, each lined with wooden signs swinging gently overhead.

Rose’s eyes took it all in with a quiet reverence. Every detail — the way the morning light hit the stone, the chatter of merchants, the scent of bread and fresh ink from market notices — was familiar, each fragment a memory of a life lived mostly within her parents’ comfort before she turned fifteen. Even if half the time she had traveled by cart, she had always carried the city with her in memory.

Kai, on the other hand, observed without sentimentality. The city was just a place he passed through — functional, unremarkable compared to what had shaped him. Though he didn’t share it aloud, the edges of his mind wandered elsewhere — to the small home near a river, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world.

Paul had found him there, a built stabilizer who had taken the boy in without ceremony. Paul’s wife had long since passed, leaving him alone, and he allowed Kai to stay in the home he had built with his own hands. Though Paul never trained him formally, the boy learned through observation — mimicking the man’s movements as they worked side by side. The precise motions of chores, the quiet patience of fishing by the river, the careful rhythm of foresting for resources — all became lessons in their own way.

It was this quiet bond, this unspoken connection between two stabilizers — between two men — that made Kai start calling him father. And one evening, that same man handed him a book, worn but cared for. The title read Tethered Fate. From then on, Kai worked by Paul’s side during the day, and at night, he read by candlelight until sleep took him.

Now, as he and Rose walked through the city streets, Kai’s gaze flickered toward the bag slung over his shoulder — as if confirming that the book inside guarded a part of his past. Those years had shaped him quietly, grounding him long before the chaos of the Academy had claimed him.

Rose’s footsteps beside him were lighter, almost buoyant, carrying her through the market streets. Kai followed, his own stride measured but calm, memories of the river and the steady guidance of Paul lingering just beneath the surface. Together, they passed the simple shops, the early morning chatter, and the smell of bread — heading for the next stage of their journey, leaving not just the Academy but the only world they had known.

As they neared the city gates, the streets grew narrower, framed by taller buildings that cast long shadows across the cobbles. The bustle of the morning thinned, replaced by the steady rhythm of carts rolling out toward the countryside. At the gate itself, a small group of guards stood watch.

A familiar robe slowed into the vision of one of those guards. The color and trim alone drew his attention — the cloak of the only Rank A child in the city. Whispers trailed through the air among the others before settling into respectful silence as Rose approached the gates.

The guards straightened immediately. The head guard, a grizzled man who had watched her grow up, gave a short bow. “Lady Solenne.”

One of the newer guards blinked, confused. “Why so formal—?”

“Because that’s the Solenne house’s daughter,” the older man murmured under his breath. The words carried just far enough to quiet any further questions.

Rose stepped closer, offering a calm smile. “Good morning. We are heading west.”

The head guard’s brow creased slightly. “West? Lady Solenne, are your parents aware of this journey?”

She nodded smoothly. “They are. I’ve already sent word.”

The guard’s gaze shifted past her shoulder to Kai, who stood silently a few paces behind. Before the man could speak, Rose moved slightly to block his line of sight, her tone polite but firm. “This is the Rank B stabilizer I’ve tethered with.”

The head guard studied them both for a long second. “Rank B, huh?” he said, then exhaled, nodding slowly. “The west has grown dangerous since the rise of monsters along the river. You know the city’s only trading route is east now, to Lirenne.”

“I do,” Rose replied. “We’ll be careful.”

Satisfied — or perhaps unwilling to question further — he gave a curt nod. “Then… safe journey, Lady Solenne.”

Rose lowered her head. “Take care of yourself.”

As they passed through the opened gates, the head guard offered a quiet wave. A faint smile touched his face — as if to say, she’s grown up wonderfully — before turning his attention back to the next carriage approaching the gate.

The faint sounds of the market — chatter, clattering crates, laughter — began to fade. Step by step, the noise of Amos softened behind them, replaced by the hum of wind across the land in front of them. From their height, the city stretched like a living tapestry — red-bricked streets, curling smoke from homes and forges, roofs glinting in the sun.

And though neither looked back for long, both carried the same quiet thought:

At least for now, they hoped to see their home city, Amos, again.

“You know…” Kai finally broke the silence. “I’m not B-rank.”

Rose’s lips curved, a soft snicker escaping. “I know,” she said.