Chapter 11: Ghost of the Past

Ryu and Garr begin their journey towards Windia Castle in a heavy silence, both weighed down by the burdens they now carry. Ryu's thoughts are a storm of memories and the daunting task ahead. The mission to confront the Goddess Myria feels almost impossible, and the weight of his people's past presses down on him like an iron chain. He knows that the battle won't just be against Myria; it will be against the legacy of suffering she has inflicted on the Brood.

Garr, on the other hand, walks with a different burden. The loss of Myria's blessing has left him adrift, cut off from the purpose that once defined him. The dream of ascending to the farplane, joining the other Guardians in eternal rest, has been shattered. Now, he must navigate a world that feels foreign and empty, seeking redemption in a path he never anticipated—serving the very Brood he once helped to destroy. Even so, Ryu is mortal, he is an endless. Eventually, Ryu will grow old and pass away; leaving him alone and without purpose.

As they travel together, the silence between them isn't just from the physical toll of the journey; it's also from the internal battles each of them is fighting. The landscape around them changes as they move, from the craggy rocks of the Dauna region to the rolling plains leading towards Windia. But neither of them takes much notice, their thoughts too deeply entrenched in their own struggles.

Occasionally, they exchange glances, as if searching for words to break the silence, but none come. They both know that this is a journey not just to Windia, but to the heart of their own destinies. Each step brings them closer to the castle, but also closer to a future that neither can fully comprehend.

After walking for a day, they reach Ogre Road. The forest ahead promises challenges, but Ryu and Garr are seasoned warriors. The fading light paints the world in shades of twilight, and when the sun finally dips below the horizon, they set up camp in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees.

Ryu, exhausted from the day's journey, quickly drifts off to sleep. Garr, however, remains vigilant, seated by the flickering campfire with his weapon close at hand. His thoughts wander as he meditates, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the still night. But then, the peace is broken. The soft rustling of leaves catches his attention, at first so faint he nearly dismisses it as the wind. Yet, it persists, growing louder, circling the camp like a predator stalking its prey.

Garr's eyes snapped open. He knew that something was wrong.

He was on his feet in a breath, instincts honed by years of war pulling him from meditation. The wind carried a foul scent, sharp and feral. In the stillness of the night, the rustling of branches had taken on a new, urgent rhythm—too heavy for wind, too deliberate for any woodland creature. A low growl rumbled through the trees, distant yet unmistakable.

Something was out there; powerful, angry, and very close. Garr grabbed his spear and spun on his heel, rushing into the tent. Kneeling beside Ryu and gripping his shoulder, "Get up," he hissed. "Something's out there."

Ryu's eyes opened instantly, the warrior's reflexes intact despite the haze of sleep. He threw off the blanket and began fastening the leather straps of his armor with practiced efficiency. Outside, the underbrush cracked and snapped as something massive moved closer. The air was thick—pregnant with violence, the forest holding its breath.

Then came the silence. It was too sudden, too complete. Both men froze and listened. The night birds no longer sang. The insects no longer buzzed. Even the wind had stilled. The stillness was a warning. In Garr's experience, when the forest grew quiet… death was only seconds away.

A snarl shattered the silence. They dove.

Ryu and Garr hurled themselves out of the tent just as it erupted in a shower of fabric and debris. The canvas split like paper beneath massive claws. Dust and torn fabric filled the air as something monstrous landed where they had just been. Both men rolled instinctively to their feet, weapons drawn—Ryu's Dragon Sword gleaming faintly in the moonlight, Garr's spear poised to strike.

From the wreckage, a shape rose. Towering, bestial, and brimming with primal rage. A weretiger—nearly seven feet tall, muscle rippling beneath striped fur, eyes glowing with wild gold, mane red like fire. It stood on two legs like a man, but its claws and fangs left no doubt of its savagery. Its breath steamed in the cool night air, and each exhale came with a rumble, like the purring of a storm about to break.

The beast snarled, lips curling back to reveal jagged teeth, and took a step forward, claws gouging furrows into the earth. The clearing trembled with its presence, a force of nature cloaked in fury.

Ryu's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, while Garr's eyes narrowed. Whatever this creature was, it hadn't come by chance. It was there for blood. And it had found two warriors ready to give it a fight.

Garr stepped forward, planting the base of his spear into the earth, muscles tensed, eyes cold with focus. He stood like a stone wall between the oncoming beast and Ryu, wings spreaded, his presence defiant—immovable. Beside him, Ryu raised his sword, the Dragon Blade pulsing faintly as if responding to the impending violence. His gaze never left the creature now circling them with lethal intent.

A silence fell—a fragile, suspended moment. Then the weretiger roared. The sound tore through the forest like a cannon blast, scattering birds into the night sky and shaking the leaves from the trees. The beast surged forward, a blur of claws and snarling fury.

Garr met it head-on. Claws like sabers descended, and Garr's spear rose to intercept them in a shower of sparks. The force of the blow cracked the ground beneath his feet, but he stood his ground. With a roar of his own, he twisted the spear and drove its steel tip into the creature's shoulder. The weretiger howled and reeled back, but it was far from finished.

It lunged again, this time locking its massive jaws around the shaft of Garr's spear. The weapon groaned under the pressure. The beast swiped with its free claws, aiming for Garr's head and chest, but the veteran guardian ducked and weaved, his movements smooth and precise. He had faced dragons before—this was not a threat, it was a test.

Before the weretiger could overpower him, a flash of steel slashed through the darkness. Ryu came out swinging to aid Garr. With a cry, the young warrior dashed in, his blade carving a silver arc across the night. The weretiger snarled and disengaged from Garr, leaping backward just in time to avoid a deep wound. It turned its burning gaze on Ryu now, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. In a heartbeat, it pounced.

Ryu rolled to the side, narrowly escaping death as claws raked the ground where he had stood. He came to his feet in a fluid motion, countering with a swift, wide swing of his sword. The blade connected with the weretiger's side—there was resistance, thick hide slowing the cut, but blood sprayed. The beast roared in rage, then retaliated in a frenzy of claws.

Each strike came faster than the last, a whirlwind of savage power. Ryu stepped back, dodging narrowly, deflecting where he could, breathing hard but focused. The creature was stronger—but Ryu was faster, more controlled.

Suddenly, from behind, Garr charged like a boulder down a mountain. With a thunderous cry, he slammed the butt of his spear into the weretiger's back, the impact reverberating through the clearing. The beast stumbled forward, breath hissing through clenched fangs, now caught between two deadly warriors.

It spun to face Garr, its fur bristling, its eyes twin infernos of hate. The battle intensified. Ryu and Garr moved like clockwork—fluid, synchronized, forged through trial and fire. When one struck, the other defended. When one faltered, the other pressed forward. Blade met claw. Spear shattered bone. Roars and shouts echoed through the trees, shaking the canopy overhead.

Still, the weretiger would not fall. Panting, bloodied, its chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, the beast bared its teeth in a feral grin. Its voice, guttural and mocking, slithered from its throat like poison.

"Doesn't that beat all…" it growled, blood dripping from its fangs. It spread its arms, claws gleaming in the firelight. "Dont get too cocky, I will kill you both."

Ryu's breath catches in his throat as the words echo in his mind. That phrase—he's heard it before. His grip on his sword loosens. "Rei?" he asks, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief.

The weretiger freezes, its eyes widening in shock. For a moment, the fierce predator falters, taken aback by the name. Ryu takes a cautious step forward, lowering his blade, his hands open in a gesture of peace. "It's me," he says, his voice softer now. "I'm Ryu."

Memories flood the weretiger's mind—painful, vivid flashbacks of a time when Balio and Sunder attacked, of his desperate fight to protect his friends. The beast's snarl falters, replaced by a deep, agonized roar that echoes through the forest. With a final, anguished look at Ryu, the weretiger turns and bolts into the shadows, its massive form disappearing into the dense trees.

Garr, still catching his breath from the battle, turns to Ryu, his brow furrowed. "Do you know that beast?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

Ryu nods slowly, his gaze fixed on the direction the weretiger fled. "He's Rei," Ryu explains, his voice heavy with emotion. "One of the friends I was looking for when I was a kid." The weight of the encounter hangs in the air, leaving both warriors in silent contemplation as the forest around them falls eerily quiet once more.

Garr watches Ryu, his brow furrowed with concern. "Where did he go?" he asks, his voice gruff but tinged with curiosity.

Ryu nods, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "If that really was Rei, there's only one place he would go. Our home back in McNeil Village."

With that, they quickly gather the remains of their tent and set off towards Ryu's childhood village. The journey is long and grueling, with days blending into each other as they traverse rugged terrain and tall mountains. But Ryu's resolve pushes them forward. Every step brings them closer to answers—and to a reunion long overdue.

Finally, after several days of travel, the familiar sight of McNeil Village comes into view. But something is off. The village, usually quiet and unassuming, is now bustling with activity. Windian guards are everywhere, taking statements from anxious villagers. The atmosphere is tense, charged with an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty.

Ryu and Garr pass through the village without a word, heading straight towards the forest that leads to Ryu's old home. The path is well-worn, but as they walk through the dense underbrush, a familiar scent hits them—charred wood. The smell lingers in the air, so strong that it surprises them both. How could it still be so potent after all these years?

As they approach the charred remains of the house on the hill, the memories flood back for Ryu. This was where everything began, where his life changed forever. The house, once a place of warmth and safety, now stands as a ruin—a haunting reminder of the past.

Ryu stops at the edge of the path and turns to Garr. "Wait here," he says quietly.

Garr nods, understanding the significance of this moment. Ryu needs to do this alone.

Ryu ascended the hill with deliberate steps, the wind tugging gently at his white cape, the weight of memory pressing heavily on his shoulders. Each footfall stirred dust and long-buried echoes of the past—childhood laughter, shared struggles, the ache of parting. The summit rose before him, crowned not in triumph, but in silence.

At the crest, he saw a lone figure kneeling before two simple graves. The man's posture was both weary and reverent, his head bowed in quiet reflection. There was no mistaking him—broad shoulders, tattered cloak fluttering in the breeze, twin daggers strapped to his hips, dulled by time and blood. Even from behind, the aura was unmistakable.

"Rei," Ryu called, his voice low, reverent. The name tasted of forgotten days and brotherhood.

The Worren turned slowly, as if the wind itself had whispered the name to him. When his eyes met Ryu's, time stopped. He was older now. The youthful fire that once danced in his gaze had smoldered into something harder, quieter. Years of hardship and solitude had carved themselves into his face—new scars crisscrossed his brow and cheek, a map of battles fought without backup, without family. Some of those wounds still bore the crusted edges of their recent clash, a violent reunion neither of them had wanted.

But the eyes… the eyes were still Rei's. Guarded, maybe. But unmistakably his. Neither spoke. The wind spoke for them, rustling the leaves, sweeping over the graves like a whispered hymn.

Then, almost hesitantly, they closed the distance between them. No words were needed. Their hands met, rough and calloused, gripping tightly. The handshake lingered, became a pull, and then—an embrace. Strong. Silent. Unbreakable.

All the years of absence, the choices that drove them apart, the lives lived in shadow and flame—none of it could sever the bond forged in the fires of their youth. It had only tempered it.

Ryu closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the forest, the dust, and the quiet presence of a brother found again. They stood like that for a while, the graves behind them, the road ahead uncertain—but for now, neither past nor future mattered. They were whole again.

Ryu's gaze shifts from Rei to the two graves nestled in the overgrown grass. The stones are simple, but they carry the weight of memories that pull at his heart. He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "What about Teepo?"

Rei's expression darkens, the light in his eyes dimming with the weight of the past. With a heavy heart, he moves to kneel in front of one of the graves. His hand rests on the cold stone as he begins to speak, each word laced with sorrow.

"Teepo didn't make it, Ryu," Rei says, his voice rough with emotion. "That day… Balio and Sunder attacked us. We were just kids, and they were playing with us like we were nothing."

Rei's hands clench into fists as he recalls the events. "Balio toyed with me, beating me down, but Sunder… he had Teepo. I was forced to watch as Sunder wrapped his hands around Teepo's throat, squeezing the life out of him. I tried to get to him, but I couldn't. I was too weak…"

Ryu stands silently, his chest tightening as he listens to Rei's story. The pain in Rei's voice is palpable, a mirror of the anguish Ryu feels deep inside.

Rei continues, his voice trembling. "Teepo tried to fight back, but he was just a kid, Ryu. Sunder… he delivered the final blow right in front of me. I was helpless."

Ryu's heart sinks as he imagines the scene, the horror of losing Teepo in such a brutal way. Rei's shoulders shake slightly as he continues, the memories overwhelming him.

"You tried to save him," Rei says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember you using your healing magic, desperate to bring him back. But Sunder… he kicked you in the head, and you fell into the river. I thought… I thought you were gone, too. I thought you drowned."

Rei's voice cracked, thick with emotion, as he bowed his head. His hand drifted to his chest, fingers tracing the long scar that ran just over his heart—a jagged reminder of the day everything changed. "Balio turned and slashed me with his dagger. Right here," he said, pressing his fingers to the scar. "I felt it tear through me… Then he kicked me. I remember the sky spinning. The hill falling away beneath me. I should've died that day."

He fell quiet, eyes distant, staring into the earth like it might answer the questions he still asked himself. "But I didn't," he whispered. "Something inside me… snapped. Or awakened. I don't know what to call it. I was bleeding out, bones shattered, vision fading. And then—"

He looked up at Ryu, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and wonder. "I changed. My body tore itself apart and rebuilt all at once. Fur. Fangs. Claws. Rage. I became something else. Something monstrous. I became the weretiger."

He swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash. "I didn't know what was happening. I barely understood it afterward. But that… transformation—it saved me. My body healed, my senses sharpened, and somehow, I crawled away from death. I've lived with that beast ever since."

Rei's voice dropped lower, heavy with guilt. "There were nights I couldn't control it. Times I woke up with blood on my hands and no memory of the fight. I've hurt people, Ryu. I've killed. I've been running from what I became. From what I am."

He turned fully now, meeting Ryu's gaze.

"But the truth is… if I hadn't changed, I'd have died that day. And I never would've found you again. And so, I spent years taming the beast. Keeping it under control so innocent people didn't get hurt."

Ryu stands in silence, the weight of Rei's words pressing down on him like a heavy burden. The thought of Teepo—young, innocent Teepo—being killed so brutally by those monsters fills him with a deep, simmering rage. But alongside the anger is a deep, painful sadness, knowing that Teepo's life was cut short in such a cruel way.

Rei's hand slides off the gravestone, and he looks up at Ryu, his eyes filled with grief. "After everything was over, I came back here. I buried Teepo in this spot. It's where he would have wanted to be… close to home, close to us."

Ryu takes a step closer to the grave, his hand reaching out to touch the stone. The cool surface is a stark reminder of the finality of death, a truth he's tried to outrun for so long.

Rei stands and gestures to the small pile of apples placed neatly beside the grave. "I come back here whenever I can. I bring apples—his favorite food. It's all I can do to remember him, to honor him."

Ryu looks down at the offerings, the sight of the apples stirring memories of their time together, back when life was simple and they were just three kids trying to survive in a world that didn't care about them. The loss of Teepo, the emptiness left behind, is a wound that will never fully heal.

"I'm sorry, Rei," Ryu whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

Rei shakes his head, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "It's not your fault, Ryu. We did what we could. We survived… and we're still here."

Ryu nods, but the guilt lingers, heavy and unforgiving. He kneels beside the grave, placing a hand on the cold earth. "Teepo… I'll never forget you."

The two of them stood there in silence, united in their grief and in the bond that has somehow survived all the pain and loss. The past has scarred them both, but in this moment, standing together before Teepo's grave, they find a sense of closure—a fragile, fleeting peace in a world that has taken so much from them.

Rei turns to face Ryu, his expression hardening as he begins to speak. "After the attack, I was lost, Ryu. Teepo was gone, and I thought you were too. I couldn't just let it end there. I spent years training, trying to master the weretiger form that saved my life. I wasn't going to let it control me anymore—I had to control it. And once I did, I knew I had to do something."

Ryu listens intently, noting the determination in Rei's voice, the fire that still burns within him. Rei continues, his tone resolute. "I went to Windia after I gained control. I asked the royal family to help me avenge you and Teepo. But when I got there, they told me that Balio and Sunder were already dead. Killed years ago."

Rei's jaw clenches as he recalls the moment. "I should have felt some kind of relief, but it wasn't enough. Not for me. Those two weren't the only ones responsible for what happened to us. They were part of a bigger gang—criminals who've caused so much pain to so many people. I couldn't rest knowing they were still out there, living their lives while Teepo was gone."

He pauses, taking a breath as he looks back at the graves. "So I've been working with the royal guards, helping them track down and dismantle that gang. It's not just about revenge anymore—it's about justice. They all have to pay for what they've done."

Before Ryu can respond, Garr emerges from the shadows of the trees, stepping into the clearing where they stand. His presence is imposing, yet his expression is calm as he addresses Rei. "It was me," Garr says, his voice steady. "I'm the one who killed Balio and Sunder all those years ago."

Rei's eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to fully face Garr. For a moment, the air is thick with tension, but then Rei's expression softens, and he nods in gratitude. "I don't know who you are, but thank you… for what you did. I'm glad they're gone." He then rubs the back of his head sheepishly as he continues, "Sorry about attacking you back at Ogre Road. I thought you were one of them. You matched the description of one of the gang members I've been hunting, so I jumped to conclusions."

Garr shakes his head slightly. "I was… once. I was part of that gang, a long time ago. But I left them after I met Ryu. We have a destiny to fulfill, so we've been traveling together."

Ryu extends his hand to Rei, inviting him to join their journey. "We can help you bring the gang to justice," Ryu says, his voice steady with conviction. "And you can help us on our quest. When it's all over, we can live in Windia, just like we promised when we were kids."

Rei looks at Ryu, then at Garr, considering the offer. The memories of their shared past and the weight of his own quest to avenge Teepo play across his face. After a moment, he nods, a determined glint in his eyes. "Alright, let's do this," Rei says, grasping Ryu's hand firmly. "We'll bring them down together."

Garr steps forward, extending his own hand. "Welcome to the team, Rei. Your strength will be invaluable."

Rei shakes Garr's hand as well, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for what happened back at Ogre Road. Let's make sure we finish what we've all started." With their alliance solidified, the trio prepares to face the challenges ahead, united by a shared purpose and a promise that stretches back to their childhood.