FeynaSkydancer

I’d like to apologize in advance for adding another cliffhanger here despite previously saying this would be the end. Once again I ended up writing longer than I thought that I found it best to split it one final time. Rest assured this really will be the last cliffhanger - and a great thanks to everyone who’s been reading until now. Hope you’ll enjoy these last two parts!
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A roar.
It came from above and shook the air and ground Yoshitsu stood on. By the time he lifted his head to see the source of it, his hands unconsciously went fumbling around the dark around him, to look for something, anything to hold onto. But when they found only air, Yoshitsu fell to the ground, his gaze not leaving the sky above him.
 The moon was momentarily cut off by a massive shadow sweeping by it.
Flapping of impressive wings increased in frequency and pushed the moonlit grass towards the ground, their owner preparing for landing.
Yoshitsu’s head shook back

For the first time that night since he started revisiting those memories, Yoshitsu felt a wide smile spread at remembering the beginning of his journey that had lasted all those years.
How much he had seen. How much he had learned. How many fascinating people he had met …How far he had travelled through it all. He must at least have been through five or more countries on his feet alone. Perhaps he could have done more had he really been endlessly wandering all that time, but ultimately he hadn’t. Yoshitsu had found places and people to his liking, and settled at places for a while, sometimes for years. He had met bakers, horse trainers, shoe makers, blacksmiths, martial artists, translators, writers, many more. Eventually, he had found it a second goal to learn something from every person with a profession he found, and they had all been happy to lend him some of their knowledge. After a decade on the road, Yoshitsu had settled in a new village for about two more years wher

Synopsis: Finding the shield and telling the village children his story awakens many more memories for Yoshitsu, and he spends the following night thinking back to everything that happened those years after Trico returned him to the village, and how it affected his life. But even after all this time, is it still too late to hope of ever seeing Trico again?
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The aged man woke with a start at a powerful wind grabbing his hut, making the roof moan under its force. A sigh escaped his lips at the scare, and the man shifted his gaze to a sleeping woman next to him, a long braid of dark hair twirled over her sides slowly rising and falling with her breath. Yoshitsu's gaze went from his wife to the other side of the dusty oak floor where the wall adjourned with other rooms, then listened at the neighbouring huts for any sounds, any whimpers of children or mutters of adults, but heard none.
As usual, he figured, he was the only one awakened by the storm.
Yoshitsu let his weakened he