Emerging from the portal, dew-soaked grass brushed against his bare feet, sending shivers across his skin. InuShin pressed a hand against a nearby tree and braced himself, surveying his surroundings.

  Beams of red and gold penetrated the canopy above him, bouncing off the forest trees, their maroon-colored trunks and branches. The grass beneath him, green with a faint blue hue, as if it carried its own source of light, rustled softly. The warm yet gentle breeze rustled the different colored leaves, orange, red, and green.

  In the distance, the flow of a babbling river danced in his ears as his heart echoed, yearning to explore.

  Children’s laughter, in the direction of the river, rang through the forest.

  With deliberate, cautious steps, InuShin maneuvered his way through the forest and the laughter grew louder.

  The words, though similar to Duanna’s, held a slight difference. They rolled and flowed like rain on a thatched roof, soft and lifting. Playful. Musical. Vowels stretched like ribbons in a breeze. Despite not knowing the words, they felt warm, familiar. Something buried deep within him resonated.

  InuShin stepped around the tree and spotted three children, maybe a little older than him, each with long silver hair and canid ears. They wore long, loose-fitted short-sleeved shirts, dark green, and black, loose-fitted pants.

  Two of the children covered their mouths as they quietly moved around the third, who wore a black wrap over their eyes. The blindfolded child, crouched, stepped slowly, their canid ears twitching atop of their head.

  Curious, InuShin stepped closer, snapping a fallen branch. He froze in place as the children paused and shifted their attention in his direction, one of them removing their blindfold.

  His heartbeat quickened as three pairs of zaffre eyes bore into him, breathing heavily. Other S?lvcù?

  Unable to run, he watched the children approach him, sniffing the air around him and muttering to one another. Their eyes scanned over him. Each child had a color streak in their hair.

  Are they going to hurt me? He shifted his attention between them, uncertain which is the leader. I’m still not ready for three opponents.

  On instinct, InuShin grabbed the handle of his tantō as his heartbeat quickened. Breath deepened.

  Before he could react, unfamiliar words flooded his ears as they spoke quickly with the same melody from before. Through the chatter, they pointed at his clothes, ears, hair.

  Uncertain, tense, and conflicted between running and fighting, he shifted his eyes between them. “I don’t…know what you’re…saying.”

  All three children paused, stared with their ears perched high, and then continued speaking loudly. Fast.

  Overwhelmed, InuShin stepped backward, ready to dash away.

  Just as he turned to run, the words ceased and he froze, glancing back to them. One of them approached him slowly, a streak of crimson red in her hair over her right brow and framing the right side of her face. Slightly taller than him with warm, sun-kissed skin.

  In her hand, a flower with feather-like blue-white petals. A crisp and airy fragrance emitted from it, radiating a cool, comforting energy.

  Her smile, gentle. Accepting.

  Reaching out, he accepted the flower and a gust of wind blew around them tickling the back of his neck. He shifted his eyes between the flower and the three children. “Are you friendly?”

  The other two stared at him quizzically and then smiled, softly.

  “Why can’t you…”

  One of them held a finger to his lips, strands of orange tied into his braid near the tip. Shortest of the three, scrawny with a scar over his nose. Not to silence him, but to signal that words aren’t needed.

  Stepping back, they motioned for him to follow and then began skipping down the path, giggling softly. Every few steps, they glanced back to ensure he was still there.

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  As their laughter echoed into the trees, something inside him softened. Maybe it was because the trail seemed to brighten where they stepped. Or maybe how unafraid they were of him. Or maybe the ache of loneliness easing up.

  With a shaken breath and curiosity, flower in hand, he followed them through the forest. His ear twitched with anticipation.

  At the end of the forest path, a small open field appeared before him. The three children stood there, waiting for him.

  “What is this place?”

  The boy with blue streaks over his right brow pointed in the distance, where two large trees stood tall, a dog staring up into the celestial stars carved into them. In-between them, stood the beginning of a bridge.

  “S?lvcù,” he said, grinning with a tooth missing.

  “S?lvcù?” InuShin repeated. This is where we’re from? Is this our home? Will I find what’s missing?

  The girl motioned for him to tuck the flower into his haori, and he obliged.

  Nodding, two of them grabbed his hands and pulled him as the third, orange hair, led the way. His body tensed from their touch, but their strength held onto him.

  “Wait… Hold on!” he shouted.

  As they approached the bridge, he noticed each plank, worn smooth from the padded steps of generations. The wood, a deep mahogany-black with faint streaks of silver, resembled the stars of the sky.

  His mouth fell ajar, astonished by the beautiful, intricate creation before him.

  Supporting the arched foundation, thick stone pillars covered in deep green moss and blooming ferns, each one carved with a different phase of the moon. The walking path slightly bowed from age and use, made with wide planks.

  A subtle vibration reverberated within him with each step, not just from the structure, but from the land’s energy. Something familiar, something returning.

  Glancing back at him, the children giggled more, mixing with the babbling river beneath them.

  Once they released his hands, InuShin peered over the edge, seeing the greenish-blue river flow smoothly. Boats with other S?lvcù navigated between the steep cliffs.

  As they reached the other end of the bridge, a burst of energy pulsed through him, warm. Welcoming.

  Before him, a path carved into the mountainside and veiled in streaks of light, protruding through the canopy above. The path twisted light a serpent, paved with smooth stones. Some were cracked by the roots of the towering elder trees that sheltered them.

  Guiding him, the children motioned for him to follow them along the path, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. A lightness filling his chest.

  On either side of the path, homes rested naturally, built with the trees around it. Some homes rested on the cliffside, walls made from the nearby trees. Thatched roofs covered with mystical wildflowers. Others were half-sunken into the earth, their doors made of the same wood as the bridge.

  Children chased one another, laughing, their bare feet pattering. Some with colorful streaks, others without. Elders, who were tending a hanging garden, paused from their task to watch him.

  Their eyes matched his, filled with curiosity, yet still cautious. Like threads of silk, their silver hair glistened in the beams of light, each one with their own unique braid. The elders murmured to one another in the same unfamiliar tongue. Soft and fluid.

  “Am I finally home?” He knew they wouldn’t understand him.

  Following them across another bridge, they approached a wide clearing. A natural amphitheater framed by towering stones etched with mysterious runes, a tree with its branches and roots twisting in a circular pattern. Just like his necklace.

  Giggling, the children ran ahead, entering a building on the opposite end of the space.

  “My necklace…” he reached into his haori and lifted it out, shifting his attention between the necklace and the symbols around him. “I really am home.”

  Emerging from the wooden building, five individuals stood, not towering, but hunched, draped in flowing robes of tree-silk dyed in mystical greens and browns. Each bore tokens of their devotions: necklaces with wooden beads, staffs made from the trees, and faces painted with celestial markings.

  Their gaze bore into him. No announcement. No formal gesture. Only stillness.

  On instinct, InuShin lowered himself to his knees, his hands planted firmly on his thighs, back straight. Lowering his upper body and sliding his hands down his thighs to the floor, he pressed his chest against his lap. Saikeirei.

  A hush rippled through the circle. Murmurs stirred around him, soft and puzzled.

  Concerned, InuShin shifted his weight but remained in seiza and noticed the villagers staring at him.

  One of them, a woman with fogged eyes and a silver braid trailing to the ground, approached. Her skin, wrinkly with not just age, but with wisdom. She spoke, slowly and clearly, yet incomprehensibly to InuShin’s ears. The words felt like wind, melodic, but unreadable.

  He lifted his head and opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.

  Then. The wind shifted.

  A gust of warm wind, stronger than before, swept through the clearing. It rustled robes, lifted hair, and stirred the spiritfire, causing the blue flames to flicker, but not snuff out. The wind carried the scent of earth after rain, of burning cedar and morning dew.

  Silence overtook the villagers as they stared behind him. Even the elders watched in wonder.

  Twisting his torso, InuShin glanced behind him.

  Just beyond the circle’s stones, stood a woman. Cloaked in travel-worn garments, her silver-streaked hair spilled over her shoulders, wild. Her zaffre eyes wide in disbelief.

  Her lips parted, but no sound came.

  For a breathless moment, neither moved, as if time itself dared not to interrupt.

  Then she stumbled forward, her steps ungraceful but urgent, eyes scanning every inch of him.

  InuShin stood, chest tight, tears stinging his eyes.

  Before he could step, she closed the gap and lifted him in the air, arms tightly wrapped around him, trembling.

  “My son…” she whispered.

  InuShin’s breath hitched as he clung to her, unsure if this was another dream or a test. Streams trickled down his cheeks. His body shook. He deeply inhaled her scent, hoping it would never fade.

  Still clinging to her, an elder cleared her throat, shifting their attention.

  His mother’s tears lined her cheeks, but her voice was firm when she addressed them in their tongue. A smooth flow of words.

  She turned to InuShin, brushing his cheek before explaining.

  “They said… your spirit walks with an unfamiliar rhythm, but your soul resonates. You do not speak our words, but the land recognizes you. Like a forgotten melody remembered by the wind.”

  “Who are they?”

  “They are Anáilchaintóirí…” she shook her head. “Breath-Speakers. They say the spirits of this place stirred the moment your feet touched the path. The trees remember you, even though you’ve never been here before.”

  He turned his gaze towards the elders. The villagers. The children. And then back to his mother. “Will they accept me here?”

  Tears streaking once more, she smiled and nodded. “Of course, Shin. You’re home now.”