Kaja's gaze shifted between Cihan and Orchid, their anticipation palpable. He drew a momentary breath, and then, with a knowing smile, he said, "So..." The fabric of time seemed to respond to his words, folding and carrying them 3500 years into the past—a journey to a moment 500 years before the fated incident that would shape Kaja into the Hero.

The scenery transformed, transporting them to the heart of Arlan Village within the sprawling embrace of the Elf Empire. Against this serene backdrop, a vibrant tableau unfurled—a fierce battle between two figures. One was a formidable pink-haired elf, her battle style marked by precision. The other was none other than Kaja Siegfried, the man destined to become the hero of the future.

In the midst of this dance of combat, Kaja's skill became evident as he effortlessly deflected an incoming attack. The pink-haired elf, far from dismayed by the thwarted strike, sported a friendly smirk. "You've truly mastered the Art of Awareness!"

Kaja responded with a nod, his respect evident as he paid homage to the woman before him. With silver eyes and fair skin, she bore a resemblance to Cihan, save for her eyes. A smile of gratitude graced his lips as he spoke, acknowledging her influence. "Your guidance played a significant role."

Ciara, the pink-haired elf with those unique silver eyes, leaned in, her playful gesture punctuated by a pat on Kaja's head. A sense of camaraderie colored her tone as she brushed off his compliment, her words tinged with the faint smoke of the pipe she had just exhaled. "Teaching alone wasn't the sole catalyst, Kaja. Your dedication and unwavering effort contributed to the person you've become."

A momentary lull followed, accompanied by the faint hiss of the pipe. Kaja seized the opening to lightly tease her about her smoking habit, his tone carrying a mixture of jest and gentle reprimand. "Didn't you mention wanting to quit smoking?"

Ciara's eyes danced with mirth as she met Kaja's gaze, her fingers finding their way to both sides of his cheeks in a playful pinch. Her response resonated with affectionate jest, "Oh, does my little disciple dare challenge his master's pipe? Well, be prepared to settle the score later!"

In the midst of their playful banter, Kaja couldn't help but voice his complaint, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "You keep saying you'll quit smoking for your husband, but I still see that pipe in your hand. It's as if you enjoy tormenting me."

Ciara only responded with a mischievous grin, her silver eyes dancing with amusement. She raised an eyebrow in playful defiance, a silent declaration that her resolve was yet to waver.

Annoyance flickered in Kaja's expression, for he was never a fan of smoking. In response, his hand moved swiftly, smacking Ciara's pipe-bearing hand with a reproachful look. "You smoke too much."

The contact only elicited a soft chuckle from Ciara, her amusement unfazed. She reached out to pat Kaja on the back, her touch affectionate. "Thank you for looking out for me, even in matters of my smoking habit. I suppose you've adopted the role of caring husband."

As they strolled back toward a modest house nearby, Ciara's expression shifted slightly. A subtle discomfort crossed her features, not lost on Kaja's observant eye.

"Are you alright?" Kaja's concern was evident in his question as he reached her.

Ciara offered a reassuring smile while raising his right palm, telling him that she was fine. "It's nothing serious, just a bit of a stomachache."

Kaja's response was swift as he tried to reach Ciara's stomach, his brows furrowing with concern. "A stomachache? Let me—"

Ciara's interruption came in the form of her soft laughter as she direct his hands gently. "No need to worry, Kaja. It's just the baby kicking."

The revelation had Kaja erupting into laughter, his amusement echoing in the air. "Even your baby seems to be complaining!"

With a teasing grin, Kaja quickly turned and walked away, a playfulness in his steps. Ciara, not one to be left behind, playfully chased after him, their laughter blending harmoniously in the gentle breeze.

As they returned to the house, a young man—Agya, with his elf-like features but without the pointed ears—was resting there above the comfy-looking bed. His voice greeted them warmly, addressing Kaja as "Kaja-bro."

"I'm home, Agya!! How are you feeling today?" Kaja's voice held genuine concern as he patted Agya's head and pulled him into a brotherly hug. In that moment, it didn't matter that they weren't true siblings; their bond was one that transcended blood.

"Yeah, I'm getting better, Kaja-bro." Agya replied as he woke up, his pale face was showing that he was getting better and better eventually.

As Kaja's narrative of the past concluded, the attention of Orchid and Cihan shifted from the memories to the man before them. Their expressions held a mixture of awe and newfound understanding. Orchid, in particular, found herself amused by the revelation. "I never knew you had such a close bond with Agya."

Cihan, on the other hand, wore a contemplative look. Her recollections from that time seemed to be centered around her mother and Kaja. "Agya... I don't really have any memories of him. During my young adulthood, it was mostly my mother and you that I remember."

Kaja met their gazes with a fond smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his connection with the past. "You see..." As he spoke, time flowed backward once again, carrying them to a moment in the past where a different scene unfolded.

In the memory, Kaja and Agya stood side by side, their hands busy as they washed vegetables behind the house. Agya's gentle push broke the companionable silence, his concern evident. "Kaja-bro, you should take a break."

Kaja's response was immediate, his tone determined. "No way. Older brothers don't abandon their younger siblings, you know."

The playfulness escalated as both of them engaged in a water-splashing game, laughter ringing out like the carefree peals of youth.

Unbeknownst to them, Ciara observed the scene from a distance, watching two young men who, despite their roles as protector and protected, reveled in a moment of innocent fun. She continued with her cooking, content to let them enjoy their antics.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm hue across the scene, Kaja, Agya, and Ciara found themselves seated at a table laden with a colorful array of vegetables.

Kaja's playful complaint pierced the air. "Vegetables again?"

Agya's response carried a touch of amusement. "It's our sustenance, Kaja-bro. After all, you're human..."

"He's an immortal," Ciara interjected, her voice carrying a gentle undertone of correction. Agya's chuckle mingled with her words, and she continued with a light smile, "Yes, it's only natural that you need more than just vegetables. But remember, vegetables are good for you."

The memory faded, and Kaja's voice returned, drawing Orchid and Cihan back to the present. The bond between them was now not only a tale but a tangible link that had shaped Kaja's history.

Amid the shared nostalgia and laughter, the conversation flowed seamlessly, weaving past and present into a tapestry of memories. Orchid's voice broke through the reverie, a glint of realization in her eyes. "It's interesting how distinct your eating habits were even back then," she mused.

Cihan's gaze sharpened as she remembered fragments of Kaja's culinary preferences. "You're right, Orchid. I recall him always steering clear of meat and opting for vegetables," she chimed in.

Orchid's own memory joined the conversation as she nodded, her smile tinged with amusement. "Yes, and he'd often be seen stepping outside to smoke when meat was served. He'd say something about respecting the people there but not being able to eat meat himself."

As the threads of recollections intertwined, Kaja's smile deepened. His gaze shifted between Cihan and Orchid, his tone a blend of jest and warmth. "Ah, the little details, they never really change, do they?"

With their curiosity piqued, Kaja seamlessly continued the narrative, transporting them once again to the past—the day following the recounted events. The scene materialized, a tableau of casual companionship. Kaja's voice held the weight of memory as he recounted the moments that unfolded.

Ciara, seated with Agya at the table, engaged in a game of chess. Kaja, on the other hand, immersed himself in training, the fluid grace of his swordplay a testament to his skill. His blade moved with a precision that was almost mesmerizing, even slicing through a thin leaf that happened to float by.

Inside the abode, Ciara and Agya's chess match continued. The pieces moved with purpose, their minds engaged in a strategic dance. Kaja's voice rang with earnestness as he spoke, "You know, Agya, there are three arts of strategies: Stealth, Awareness, and Ingenuity. Stealth is the dirtiest, Awareness the cleanest."

Agya's brows furrowed slightly, a chess piece poised between his fingers. "And what about Ingenuity?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

With a knowing smile, Ciara maneuvered her chess piece, revealing her position of advantage. "Ingenuity is much like this move," she demonstrated, her finger tapping a square on the board.

Agya's eyes widened in recognition, but he sought further understanding. "I'm not sure I fully grasp it," he admitted, a hint of frustration coloring his tone.

Ciara's response carried wisdom that transcended the chessboard. She spoke of a deeper truth, her voice gentle yet profound. "Ingenuity requires more than a facade of stealth or the clarity of awareness. It demands compassion—the ability to see beyond deception and to uphold justice. Without compassion, true ingenuity remains elusive."

Amid the strategic exchange between Ciara and Agya, Kaja's training continued outside. His focus remained unbroken, each swing of his blade a testament to his dedication. Yet, his presence was equally attentive to the scene unfolding within.

Ciara's chess pieces moved with purpose, each move revealing the essence of Ingenuity. She deftly imparted her understanding to Agya, guiding him to see beyond the surface. Agya's own moves shifted in response, and as the game progressed, he gained an upper hand.

The tension built, the outcome hanging in the balance. Finally, Agya's triumphant declaration echoed in the air, his voice laced with curiosity and realization. "So...this is the art of ingenuity?"

Ciara's nod held both affirmation and depth, her eyes capturing the essence of her teachings. "Indeed, Agya. The Art of Ingenuity isn't confined to combat—it's a way of thinking, of seeing beyond what's immediately apparent. It's about resilience, about navigating the complex web of life with compassion and cleverness."

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden embrace over the trio, they settled in again, the memories of the past now etched in their hearts. The moments had flowed effortlessly, each story weaving the threads of their connection.

Gazing at the fading light as they sat on the ground, Ciara's eyes held a soft curiosity, and she turned to Kaja. "So, Kaja, what about your dream?"

Kaja's gaze turned inward, the past rising before him. His response carried a weight of purpose, a dream that fueled his every action. "Well, my dream was simple," he began. "I wanted to become a Knight."

It was a dream that explained his unyielding dedication, his relentless pursuit of excellence. But it wasn't just about wielding a sword; it was about standing for something greater, protecting those he held dear.

Agya leaned in, his interest piqued. "And what about you, Agya?" Ciara asked, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she looked at him.

Agya's eyes gleamed with a sense of purpose, a dream that mirrored his kindness. "I had this idea of being a scholar," he admitted. "You know, learning all I could and using that knowledge to help those in need."

Ciara's tone carrying a blend of longing and duty. "And what about you, Ciara?" Kaja asked, turning to the pink-haired elf as he questioned so.

Ciara's gaze held the hues of twilight, the horizon mirroring the mix of her dreams and responsibilities. "I used to dream of traveling," she confessed, her voice tinged with wistfulness. "Exploring the far corners of the world." Her eyes drifted, her words marked by a trace of melancholy. "But the weight of my duties and, well, this little one," she gently placed a hand on her abdomen, "keep me rooted here, at least for now."

In the silence that followed, the group's collective dreams and the reality they faced hung in the air. And then, Ciara's gaze returned to the sky, a single word escaping her lips like a whisper, "Claria…"

Agya's eyes brightened, a glint of recognition in his voice. "Isn't Claria the name of that flower associated with a goddess?"

A warm chuckle escaped Ciara's lips, the sound of joy bubbling forth. "You're right, Agya. Seems you've got a wealth of knowledge hidden away."

Kaja's heart swelled, his affection for Agya evident as he watched him light up the scene. Their camaraderie was a treasure, a bond they shared beyond words. Kaja's grin mirrored the joy in the air as he glanced between them.

With a nod, Kaja summed up their shared journey. "So, if Agya's charting the path of a scholar, then consider me the knight standing steadfast by his side!"