Weaves of Ashes

Chapter 106: Chapter 101: The Fallen Mage

Location: Tardide Village

Time: Day 514 | Telia: Day 5

Realm: Telia

The celebration was already in full swing when Jayde and Reiko crested the hill overlooking Tardide.

Lanterns hung from every building, their warm glow pushing back the evening shadows. Long tables stretched across the village square, groaning under platters of roasted meat and fresh bread. Music drifted up—fiddles and drums weaving together in a joyful chaos that made something in Jayde’s chest tighten.

(They’re so happy.)

Population density suggests full village turnout. Approximately three hundred individuals. High morale indicators across all age groups.

[Smells good,] Reiko observed, tail swishing. [Better than raw Albatross-Bighorn.]

”Much better,” Jayde murmured.

They’d spent three days in the forest. Hunting for Yinxin’s family, yes, but also... breathing. The dragons felt like family now. Tianxin’s excited squeals when she and Reiko tumbled through the cave. Shenxin’s careful way of arranging his collection of shiny rocks. Huaxin’s determination to fly before his siblings, launching himself off increasingly tall ledges until Yinxin snatched him mid-plummet.

But the village had been waiting. Elder Ryunzo had insisted on this feast, and Jayde couldn’t refuse. Not after everything.

She’d just... needed a few days first.

”There she is!” someone shouted.

The music stuttered. Stopped. Three hundred faces turned toward her.

Oh no.

”The mage returns!” Elder Ryunzo’s voice boomed across the square. ”Come, come! We’ve been waiting!”

Tactical assessment: Retreat not viable. Social obligation requires engagement.

(Everyone’s staring.)

[Walk forward. Smile. Don’t run.] Reiko nudged her leg. [I won’t let anyone hurt you.]

Right. She could do this. She’d faced down a pack of direwolves. Survived the Freehold Clan. Contracted a shadowbeast.

She could handle a village celebration.

Probably.

***

Mrs. Ryunzo swept her into a crushing hug the moment she reached the square.

”Look at you! Still covered in forest dirt!” The woman pulled back, hands on Jayde’s shoulders, eyes shining. ”Come, come. We’ve saved you a seat. And Reiko too, of course.”

A cheer went up as Jayde walked through the crowd. Hands reached out—not grabbing, just... touching. Her shoulder. Her arm. Brief, grateful contacts that made her throat tight.

”Thank you.”

”You saved us.”

”My daughter can play outside again.”

(They mean it. They’re not afraid of me.)

Anomalous social dynamic. Typically, fear precedes gratitude in civilian-military interactions.

Elder Ryunzo guided her to the head table, where a space waited between him and Master Whitestone. Reiko settled at her feet, and someone immediately brought him a bowl of scraps that made his tail thump the ground.

[This village is mine now,] he announced. [I’ve decided.]

Jayde bit back a smile.

The feast was... overwhelming. Roasted venison and wild boar. Fresh bread with butter that actually tasted like butter. Vegetables she couldn’t name but devoured anyway. Wine—which she refused, because fifteen—and cider that bubbled on her tongue.

People kept coming up to thank her. To tell her stories about children playing again, about finally being able to hunt without fear, about sleeping through the night for the first time in months.

She didn’t know what to do with it.

Federation commendations were ceremonial. This is... genuine.

(They like me. Really like me.)

”You look like you’re about to bolt,” Master Whitestone murmured beside her.

”Is it that obvious?”

”Only to someone who’s been watching.” He smiled, his weathered face creasing. ”Elder Ryunzo means well, but sometimes he forgets that not everyone enjoys being the center of attention.”

”I just... killed some direwolves. It’s not—”

”It’s everything to us.” The blacksmith’s voice dropped. ”You gave us our lives back. That’s not nothing, girl.”

Jayde looked down at her plate, throat tight.

***

The sun had fully set when Elder Ryunzo stood, raising his cup.

”Friends! Neighbors! Today we celebrate more than the death of our enemies!” His voice carried across the suddenly quiet square. ”We celebrate hope. We celebrate the kindness of a young mage who asked for nothing but gave us everything!”

(Please stop talking.)

”And I’m told we have another guest tonight.” Elder Ryunzo gestured toward the crowd’s edge. ”Master Rainer? Will you join us?”

A ripple of surprise moved through the villagers.

Jayde followed their gazes to a figure standing in the shadows beyond the lantern light. An elderly man, maybe sixty, with a stooped posture and robes that had once been fine but were now shabby and patched. He hesitated, weathered face uncertain in the flickering light.

”Please,” Elder Ryunzo called. ”You’re welcome here.”

The man—Master Rainer—shuffled forward. His hands, Jayde noticed, were twisted. Scarred. The fingers bent at odd angles, like they’d been crushed and healed wrong.

Severe injury. Long-term mobility impairment. Medical intervention insufficient.

People made space as he approached the head table, but their expressions were... soft. Respectful. Not the wariness she’d expect for a hermit.

”Elder Ryunzo,” Master Rainer said quietly. His voice was raspy, like he didn’t use it often. ”I don’t wish to intrude—”

”Nonsense. Sit, sit.” Elder Ryunzo pulled out a chair. ”Jayde, this is Master Rainer Gaires. He used to be quite the powerful mage, back in the day.”

Master Rainer’s face tightened. ”Was. Past tense.”

”What happened?” Jayde asked before she could stop herself.

The old man looked at her, and his eyes—pale blue, faded—held something broken. ”An accident. Twenty years ago.”

”He saved a child,” Mrs. Ryunzo said softly. ”A building collapsed during the warlord wars. Master Rainer held up the ceiling long enough for everyone to escape, but...” She gestured at his hands.

”Crushed them,” Master Rainer finished. His voice was flat. ”Along with the channels in my arms. I can sense magic—my magical sight is intact—but I can’t cast anymore. Can’t form the hand seals. Can’t direct the flow properly through damaged pathways.”

(That’s horrible.)

Career-ending injury. Permanent disability in primary operational capacity.

”The Mage Guild abandoned him,” Elder Ryunzo said, anger threading his tone. ”After everything he’d done—”

”They said I was useless without magic.” Master Rainer’s laugh was bitter. ”Twenty years of service. Hundreds of students trained. Countless lives saved. But the moment I couldn’t cast? ’We have no resources for a crippled mage.’ No support. No pension. Just... thrown away like trash.”

Jayde’s hands clenched under the table.

Institutional betrayal. Asset disposed of when productivity ceased. Federation pattern: efficiency over loyalty.

(They just left him? After he saved people?)

”That’s disgusting,” she said quietly.

Master Rainer blinked at her. ”Most people don’t care. A mage without magic is just an old man.”

”You saved a child. You trained people. You served.” Jayde’s voice hardened. ”And they threw you away because you couldn’t be useful anymore? That’s not a guild. That’s a—” She caught herself. Careful. Cover story. ”My master told me stories. About how the Guild treats people. He... didn’t have kind words.”

Something flickered in Master Rainer’s eyes. ”Your master was wise, then.”

Elder Ryunzo cleared his throat. ”Actually, that’s part of why I wanted you here tonight, Master Rainer. We have a situation that requires your expertise.”

”I told you, I can’t—”

”Five of the orphan children we adopted show signs of magical talent.” Elder Ryunzo’s voice was firm. ”Minor abilities, but unmistakable. Normally, I’d send them to the Mage Guild for training. But given... everything...” He gestured helplessly.

Master Rainer went very still. ”You want me to identify them?”

”We’ve already done that,” Mrs. Ryunzo said gently. ”You sensed them when you arrived, didn’t you?”

The old man’s jaw tightened. ”Yes. Three boys, two girls. Ages six through fourteen. Mostly Inferno affinity, with one showing early Verdant potential.”

Precise assessment despite stated limitations. Sensory capabilities intact.

”The question,” Elder Ryunzo continued, ”is what to do about it. Sending them to the Guild feels wrong, but delaying their training—”

”Don’t send them,” Jayde interrupted.

Everyone looked at her.

”Don’t send them to the Mage Guild,” she repeated. Her heart was pounding, but the words came anyway. ”They’ll become exactly what’s wrong with this realm.”

”Jayde—” Elder Ryunzo started.

”No, listen.” She leaned forward. ”The Guild doesn’t train mages to help people. It trains them to serve warlords and nobility. To see themselves as superior. To view regular people as beneath them.” Her voice shook. ”Those children? They’re orphans. They know what it’s like to be powerless. To be hurt. To need help. The Guild will take that away. Will teach them that power means they don’t have to care anymore.”

Federation officer training emphasized servant leadership. Nobility obligated to protect, not exploit.

(Master Rainer’s listening. Really listening.)

”My master left the Guild,” Jayde continued. The lie tasted wrong, but the truth behind it was solid. ”He said they’d become corrupt. That they’d forgotten what magic was for. He lived alone in the mountains because he couldn’t stand watching them anymore.”

”And what did your master think magic was for?” Master Rainer’s voice was quiet. Intent.

”Protecting people who can’t protect themselves.” The words came from somewhere deep. Somewhere that remembered sixty years of service. Of watching soldiers die. Of carrying wounded through bombardment. Of standing between civilians and death. ”Power isn’t about being better than other people. It’s about having the ability to help them.”

Master Rainer’s scarred hands trembled on the table.

”You can still teach,” Jayde said, holding his gaze. ”You said your magical sight is intact. You know the theory. You could guide them through casting without needing to demonstrate yourself. And more importantly—” Her voice strengthened. ”You can teach them ethics. Can show them what it means to use power responsibly. To serve instead of dominate.”

”I’m not a mage anymore,” Master Rainer whispered.

”You’re more of a mage than anyone in that Guild.” Jayde’s fist hit the table. ”They use their power to hurt people. To control them. To profit from suffering. You used yours to save a child and lost everything. Which one of you actually understands what magic should be?”

Silence stretched across the square.

Master Rainer stared at his ruined hands. At the twisted fingers that would never form another seal. At the scars that marked where his magic had burned out trying to hold up a collapsing building.

”The Guild will come for them eventually,” he said hoarsely. ”When they’re older. When their power becomes noticeable.”

”Then we’ll deal with it then,” Elder Ryunzo said firmly. ”But for now? For their formative years? I’d rather have them learn from someone who actually cares about people.”

”I...” Master Rainer’s voice cracked. ”I don’t know if I can.”

”Try.” Mrs. Ryunzo reached over, gently covering one scarred hand with hers. ”Please. These children deserve better than what the Guild offers.”

[He wants to,] Reiko observed. [He’s just scared of failing.]

Master Rainer looked up at Jayde. ”You really believe this could work?”

”Yes.” No hesitation. ”I’ve seen what happens when institutions become corrupt. When power is concentrated in hands that don’t care about consequences.” The Federation fell for exactly these reasons. ”But grassroots alternatives? Teachers who actually give a damn? That changes everything.”

The old man’s eyes were wet. ”You sound like someone who’s seen too much for your age.”

(Understatement of the century.)

”My master taught me well,” Jayde said softly.

Master Rainer drew a shaking breath. Looked at Elder Ryunzo. At Mrs. Ryunzo. At the villagers watching with hope in their faces.

”I’ll try,” he whispered. ”Gods help me, I’ll try.”

The square erupted in cheers.

***

Later, after the feast had wound down and people began drifting home, Jayde found herself walking through the village with Reiko at her side. Master Rainer had stayed behind to talk details with Elder Ryunzo—school space, supplies, curriculum.

The old man had looked terrified and hopeful in equal measure.

(We did something good today.)

Established counter-institutional framework. Potential long-term societal impact is significant.

”You really think he can do it?” Master Whitestone fell into step beside her. ”Train those children properly?”

”I think he’s the only one who can,” Jayde said. ”The Guild would teach them to be arrogant. To see their power as making them better than regular people. Master Rainer knows better.”

”Because he lost his power and learned humility?”

”Because he had power and chose to save someone instead of himself.” Jayde looked back at the square, where Master Rainer was still talking with the elder. ”That’s the kind of mage this realm needs. Not the kind who hoards power. The kind who sacrifices it for others.”

Master Whitestone chuckled. ”Your master raised you well.”

(If only he knew.)

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment before the blacksmith spoke again. ”What will you do now? The direwolves are gone. The village is safe.”

Jayde thought about Yinxin in her cave. About three growing wyrmlings who needed protection. About a mission timeline that wouldn’t last forever.

”I have work in the forest,” she said carefully. ”But I’ll come back. This village...” (It feels like home.) ”I want to see those children trained properly. Want to make sure Master Rainer has what he needs.”

”We’ll be here.” Master Whitestone smiled. ”And that feast? Just the first. Elder Ryunzo’s already planning celebrations for the next month.”

(Oh no.)

[I approve of this village,] Reiko announced. [They give good food and appreciate proper predators.]

Jayde laughed, scratching behind his ears. ”Come on. Let’s get some sleep before Mrs. Ryunzo tries to adopt us permanently.”

As they walked toward their room, she glanced back one more time at the square. At Master Rainer, who was gesturing animatedly despite his ruined hands. At Elder Ryunzo, nodding thoughtfully. At Mrs. Ryunzo, who was already probably planning where to build a school.

Five orphan children would learn magic from a teacher who understood sacrifice.

Who knew that power was a responsibility, not a privilege.

Who would show them how to use their gifts to protect instead of oppress.

Systemic change initiated at grassroots level. Federation sociological models suggest high success probability with proper support.

(Maybe I really can make a difference here.)

[You already have,] Reiko said quietly. [The village knows it. Master Rainer knows it. I know it.]

”We’re not done yet,” Jayde murmured. ”There’s still so much to do.”

[Then we’ll do it together.]

She smiled, scratching his ears as they headed inside.

Tomorrow, she’d return to the forest. Would hunt for Yinxin’s family. Would continue her own cultivation.

But tonight?

Tonight, she’d helped plant seeds for something better.

And sometimes, that was enough.