Swish! Swish!

At the village square, Sorah was still engaged in combat with his foes. He was mostly executing evasive manoeuvres which was sort of turning into a cat and mouse chase.

He was dancing through the chaos of battle. His staff, empowered by swirling ZenFlow Kana, became an extension of his will, deflecting blows and weaving a great display of wind and force. Gusts erupted with each swing, disrupting the soldiers' formations and sending them stumbling back. Fireballs, hurled with malicious intent, met their demise as Sorah spun his staff to deflect them harmlessly into the dirt.

A Sand Devil executed a sneaky thrust strike at him. The old master twisted away, the blade a hair's breadth from his skin. He ducked low as a Pyro Warrior hurled a smouldering boulder his way. Adroitly, Sorah flipped backward, soaring over the projectile with the grace of an acrobat. Mid-air, his keen eyes caught sight of a frail old woman cowering behind her market stall directly in the boulder's path.

"Extend!" he commanded, directing his will and a little bit of Sage Curse into the Dawn Sky Crusher.

Whoosh!

The staff elongated instantly and struck the boulder with a resounding crack. The projectile was deflected and tumbled harmlessly into a nearby pile of rubble.

Landing lightly on his feet, Sorah was surrounded by a swirling aura of ZenFlow Kana. His eyes blazed with fierce determination as he stared down the surrounding soldiers, some still picking themselves up from his earlier blows. With a flourish, he traced a circle in the dirt with the tip of his staff, marking a boundary between him and his foes.

"Cross this line, and face the consequences," he warned, his words carrying the weight of a thousand storms.

…

“Tsk.” Titus grew impatient of watching the back forth skirmish between his troops and the old man. He wanted to finish this, to get back on schedule with the branding. “Enough of this,” he growled. “Sojourn let’s restart the branding process! We’ll deal with this old fool later.”

The Ignis Squad Captain nodded in agreement. He turned to his Pyro Warriors and barked, "Continue the branding! Anyone with air affinity is to be detained and transported to the prison camp!"

“Yes, sir!”

The Pyro Warriors resumed their work, dragging villagers forward and branding them with the elemental symbols. Those with air affinity were shoved into the back of Lava Transport Carriages – large, enclosed wagons drawn by massive, fire-resistant beasts. The carriages were designed to withstand the scorching heat of volcanic regions, making them ideal for transporting prisoners across long distances.

Sorah, who was busy fighting off a group of Sand Devils, heard a young girl’s scream. He glanced over and saw the same girl from before, the one with air affinity, being dragged towards a carriage.

"No!" he roared, breaking away from his attackers and charging towards the girl.

“Oh no!”

“Stop him!”

The Sand Devils gave chase but were momentarily slowed down as Sorah unleashed a powerful gust of wind from his staff, knocking them back.

Whoosh!

He reached the carriage and with a swift movement, he smashed his staff against the metal bars, bending them outwards.

Clang!

"Run!" he yelled to the girl and the others. "Get out of here!"

“But, sir…”

The girl hesitated, staring at Sorah fearfully, but his fierce gaze and the urgency in his voice spurred her into action. She scrambled out of the carriage and disappeared into the crowd.

“Huh! The captives are escaping, capture them!” yelled Titus.

“Tsk, that thing is an issue.” Sorah turned his attention to the Elemental Imprinter machine, its ominous red lens was still scanning the villagers. He had to destroy it to prevent any more people from being branded.

He raised his staff oozing with ZenFlow Kana and shouted, "Shatter!"

Crack!

The staff connected with the machine, shattering the lens and severing several wires. Sparks erupted from the damaged components, and the machine sputtered and died.

"No!" When he saw the Elemental Imprinter destroyed, Titus yelled. With his fist raised in a forceful blow, he lunged towards Sorah.

Bam!

Sorah, caught off guard, didn't have time to react. Titus's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Gah!”

Sorah groaned, his vision blurring as pain exploded in his head. He tried to get up, but Titus was upon him, pinning him to the ground with his knee on his chest.

"You will pay for this, old man!" Titus snarled.

The Ignis Squad Captain, Sojourn approached, smiling cruelly. "Let's brand him," he suggested, exuding sadistic pleasure. "Let's give him a mark he'll never forget."

Titus hesitated for a moment, then agreed. He grabbed Sorah by the arm and dragged him towards the remaining branding iron.

"No!" Sorah struggled against his captors, but it was futile. He was too weak, too exhausted from his earlier ordeal with Vice-Marshal Commander Kahless to resist. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the searing pain of the branding iron. But the pain never came. Instead, he heard Titus’s voice, laced with frustration.

"Damn it! The branding irons are useless without the Elemental Imprinter! We'll have to take him to the prison camp and let Warden Poahf deal with his stinking old ass."

“Get up, you old bastard!”

Sorah was then dragged to his feet and shoved into the back of a Lava Transport Carriage along with the little girl and others who had be recaptured. He slumped against the metal bars, his body aching and his spirit weary.

The enforcers thought that he had failed to protect the villagers. He had failed to stop the branding. And now, he was a prisoner and his fate uncertain. However, Sorah had a hidden agenda up his torn sleeve.

***

“Move it! You lazy hounds!” Titus yelled at the steeds pulling the carriages.

The Sand Devils and the Pyro Warriors had not finished their official business at the settlement due to the Elemental Imprinter being damaged. They had only brought the one with them, so they would be back at a later date to restart the branding process. For now they would transport their captives to the prison camp governed by Warden Poahf.

Rattle!

As the carriages moved down an incline, Sorah glanced back at the village. He could see the villagers huddled together fearfully and uncertain of their fates. He had hoped to be their saviour, but instead, he had brought them more trouble.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, barely audible above the rumble of the wheels.

***

"BURRRP!"

The forest clearing echoed with a thunderous belch that would have made a seasoned sailor blush. Woodworm, having thoroughly devoured the fallen oak, patted its distended belly with a satisfied chirp.

Perched precariously atop a nearby boulder, the Rice Guru was startled by the sudden eruption of sound. He tumbled backwards with a yelp, arms flailing like windmilling straw.

"Blast it, Woodworm!" he sputtered, regaining his balance just in time to avoid an undignified landing in a patch of stinging nettles. "Must you announce your digestive triumphs with such fanfare?"

Woodworm, oblivious to the Rice Guru's annoyance, simply blinked its eyes and let out another contented chirp.

"Oh, very well," the Rice Guru sighed, dusting himself off with a dramatic flourish. He bowed deeply towards the rotund insect, his straw hat nearly sweeping the ground. "May the winds of fortune bless your...er...productive digestion."

“Kyu!” Woodworm chirped again, seemingly pleased with the unexpected praise. It lumbered closer to the Rice Guru, nudging his side with its antennae as if seeking further attention.

"Yes, yes, you're a marvel of nature," the Rice Guru chuckled while patting the creature's head with a gnarled hand. "Now, be a good worm and stay put while I... hmm?"

His gaze was drawn suddenly to a flicker of movement in the distance. A lone bee fluttered past, its flight path coincidentally leading the Rice Guru's eyes towards a procession of Lava Transport Carriages and armoured figures moving away from the village down a winding incline.

The Rice Guru watched with growing concern as the procession disappeared round a bend. Something was amiss. The carriages, designed for transporting prisoners, were heavily guarded by Sand Devils and Pyro Warriors.

"What transpired in that village?" the Rice Guru wondered aloud as a knot of anxiety formed in his straw-stuffed chest. "Could Master Sorah be in trouble?"

He paced back and forth atop the boulder, gnawing on a fingernail nervously. He had a bad feeling about this. The quietness of the village, the lack of any signs of struggle or resistance, it all pointed to something sinister.

"Woodworm, stay here," he instructed firmly despite the tremor of fear in his core. "I'll be back shortly."

He knew that bringing Woodworm along would only slow him down. The creature's distended belly and sluggish movements would make it impossible to move stealthily.

The Rice Guru took a deep breath and focused his intent. He spun around rapidly, his straw hat and robes billowing outwards, and in a flash of swirling leaves, he vanished from sight.

Moments later, he reappeared on the rooftop overlooking the village square. The scene below was one of desolation and despair. The villagers huddled together in small groups, very unsettled. The remnants of the branding operation - the Elemental Imprinter, the branding irons, and the overturned stalls - lay scattered across the square like debris after a storm.

The Rice Guru listened intently as the villagers spoke in hushed tones, their words carrying the weight of recent trauma. He pieced together the events that had transpired - the arrival of the branding party, the forced identification of elemental affinities, the branding of those with air affinity, and the capture of those who resisted.

"They took them away in those carriages," a young woman whispered with trembling lips. "To the prison camps, they said."

"But why?" an elderly man lamented, leaning heavily on his cane. "What have we done to deserve such treatment?"

"It's because of those Aerithran scum," a burly villager spat. "They've brought this upon us with their defiance of the Dune Directorate."

As the Rice Guru listened to their word, a growing sense of dread filled his being. He suspected that the branding was a barbaric practice, a way to control and subjugate the people not only of the Terravolt but also the other four Kingdoms. But what truly alarmed him was the realization that Sorah had been among those captured.

"But how?" he thought. "Master Sorah is a skilled warrior, a master of martial arts and the wielder of the legendary Dawn Sky Crusher. How could he have been subdued so easily by a mere Squad Captain?"

Unless...

A chilling possibility crept into his mind. What if Sorah had allowed himself to be captured? What if he had orchestrated this entire situation to infiltrate the prison camps and rescue his students?

The Rice Guru's gaze swept across the square, searching for any clue, any sign that would confirm his suspicions. And then he spotted the Dawn Sky Crusher lying discarded on the ground near the destroyed Elemental Imprinter, all the while emanating a faint glow of residual Aether Steam.

The Rice Guru cried, "That's it!" with a glimmer of enthusiasm in his eyes. With his fingers quivering like leaves, he held out a hand to the staff.

"Come to me," he whispered, invoking the unique connection he had to Aoi’s Vayrukumer.

The Dawn Sky Crusher, as if responding to his call, levitated from the ground and flew towards the Rice Guru. He caught it deftly, feeling the familiar thrum of power coursing through its ancient wood.

With a mischievous grin, the Rice Guru spun around once more, vanishing in a flurry of swirling leaves, leaving behind the bewildered villagers and the remnants of their shattered lives.

Whoosh!

Moments later, he reappeared in the secluded clearing where he had left Woodworm. The sudden materialization startled the rotund insect, causing it to rear back with a surprised chirp.

"Kyu? Kyu?" it questioned, tilting its head as if trying to understand what had just transpired.

The Rice Guru, still clutching the Dawn Sky Crusher, explained the situation to Woodworm. "Master Sorah has been captured, my friend. We must go and rescue him."

"Kyuuu!" With its segmented body twitching with wrath, Woodworm chirped fiercely, as if it had its heart pierced by a thousand knives. It started to glow from the inside out, changing shape and lengthening into the gorgeous Cloud Butterfly, Breeze Plume.

"Hold your horses, my feathered friend," the Rice Guru chuckled, waving a hand to calm the agitated butterfly. "We can't just fly in there guns blazing. We need a plan." He glanced up at the towering Wind Barrier that still shimmered high above them. "Besides, we can't risk attracting the attention of that maniac Kahless and his troops. They're still out there, searching for us, remember?"

"Kyu..." Breeze Plume chirped softly, its wings drooping slightly as it understood the gravity of the situation.

"Don't worry, yellow belly," the Rice Guru reassured the butterfly. "We'll find a way to rescue Master Sorah and his students if indeed they are being held at that prison camp. And then, we'll show those Sand Devils and Pyro Warriors the true meaning of Aerithran resilience."

“Kyuuu!” Breeze Plume was enthusiastic about this endeavour.

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