If the FOB had been humanity's last fortress, then Karura Haven felt like its first sanctuary.
I still remember stepping through its gates, blinking in disbelief as the world shifted from the nightmare of the forest into something that felt… almost peaceful. Almost.
The settlement sat nestled between two towering ridges of stone, their sides covered in golden moss that glowed softly at dusk, lighting the valley like a lantern cupped in the earth's hands. Wooden homes were carved into the hills, suspended with vines that hummed faintly when touched. Lantern-like fruits dangled overhead, casting warm light even after the sun fell.
People laughed. Children ran freely. No one screamed in terror.
For the first time since the sky cracked open, I allowed myself a breath that didn't taste of fear.
Mara Tesh walked ahead of us, her pace slow and measured, her robe brushing the glowing moss. Every child who passed her bowed respectfully. A few even hugged her without hesitation.
Zara nudged me. "Looks like she's the village grandmother."
"I hope she bakes," I whispered, earning the first smile from Zara I'd seen in days.
Mara led us to a circular opening in the village center—a sunken plaza surrounded by carved stone seats. A giant spiral symbol marked the ground, painted in shimmering patterns that shifted colors as we approached.
"This," Mara said, lifting her arms gracefully, "is Karura Haven. The first settlement built with cooperation between humankind and the awakened spirits."
Lyra's eyes practically sparkled.
Orion whispered, "It feels… warm."
"It is alive," Mara corrected gently. "Not just warm."
She pointed at the spiraling symbol. "This marks the agreement between our people and the forest guardians. They protect us, and we honor the land. Together we build a future."
Zara folded her arms skeptically. "Spirits? That sounds a little—"
Before she could finish, something small and furry leapt onto her shoulder.
She froze.
Lyra giggled.
A creature no bigger than a housecat squatted there, blinking enormous amber eyes. Its tail split into two fluffy branches, both twitching with curiosity.
"What—what is this?" Zara whispered.
"A miso-fox," Mara said. "They sense distrust and offer comfort. It seems you could use some."
The little creature chirped, pressed its forehead to Zara's cheek, and Zara—Zara, the woman who stared down monsters without blinking—softened visibly.
"I hate that it works," she muttered.
Lyra reached out to pet the fox, and it hopped to her shoulders without hesitation. Lyra squeaked and beamed like it was the best moment of her life.
For a fleeting second, I saw the teenager she used to be before flames became part of her.
Mara guided us through the settlements with the calm assurance of someone who had walked these paths a thousand times.
She pointed out:
The Water Orchard, where vines produced fruit filled with clean drinking water.
"It tastes like cucumber and sunshine," Lyra said after biting into one.
The Greenforge, where metalworkers used Eden-infused ore to craft tools that hummed with energy.
Orion stood entranced, hands glowing faintly as he sensed the forge's rhythm.
The Bloomery, a greenhouse where flowers acted as natural lanterns and temperature regulators.
Some petals whispered; others pulsed like steady heartbeats.
The School of Sparks, a cluster of circular huts where children learned to control their newfound powers.
Mara stopped in front of the largest hut.
"This is where your children will learn," she said softly. "They will not be alone. Many young ones awakened on Rebirth Night."
Lyra bit her lip. "Are there other… fire people?"
"Three," Mara said kindly. "A set of twins who make lightning. A boy who sings storms."
Orion raised his hand timidly. "Um… and psychics?"
"More than you might expect," she replied.
"In times of change, minds open."
Amu appeared from behind one of the huts—dirty, bruised, but smiling. Orion's whole posture loosened.
I realized then how much he needed someone who understood the noise in his head.
Mara continued:
"Adults, meanwhile, are assigned duties based on skill, will, and attitude. Builders, healers, farmers, explorers—Karura Haven thrives when everyone contributes."
I nodded slowly. "Where do you need me?"
She touched my chest gently.
"Where your heart leans. This place reads intention better than people do."
That didn't actually answer anything, but her eyes told me the truth:
She knew where I belonged before I did.
On the far side of the village, we entered the Spiritual Grove, a clearing filled with pale trees that swayed without wind. The air shimmered faintly, like heat rising from asphalt.
Then the spirits appeared.
Not frightening, not monstrous. Simply… present.
Figures made of translucent light moved gracefully among the trees. Some were shaped like animals. Others resembled flowing humanoid forms with features made of swirling mist. A small, round spirit floated toward Orion and booped him on the forehead.
He yelped. Lyra laughed so hard she snorted. Mara smiled warmly. "They like you."
Orion rubbed his nose, wincing. "It shocked me."
"That means it likes you a lot."
One spirit drifted to Lyra, its light flickering orange in response to her flames. When she held out her hand, a spark danced between them like a handshake. Something in her posture softened.
She had spent days afraid of herself. Here, she wasn't a danger. She was part of something.
The next morning, we woke to a bell made of vibrating crystal. Lyra sat up instantly. Orion groaned and buried his head in his blanket.
Mara met us at breakfast—an assortment of fruits and breads flavored with honey-leaf syrup.
"Today," she announced gently, "is your first day."
Orion nearly dropped his spoon. Lyra whooped with excitement.
"Students to the School of Sparks," Mara said. "Adults to the assignments board."
She led Lyra and Orion to a set of carved doors. Inside, children sat on mats arranged in circles. Some levitated pebbles. Others played with tiny fireflies made of living flame.
Lyra whispered, "This is… awesome."
Orion whispered back, "This is terrifying."
Mara patted them both. "Good. Learning requires both."
Zara was assigned to the Rangers, the scouts who protected the village's perimeter.
Lyra got Flame Conditioning, a course taught by a very tired-looking woman who had clearly seen fire students before.
Orion was placed in Mindflow, a class led by a man who spoke in riddles and looked like he hadn't slept since the Big Bang. And me? The board assigned me to Harmony Construction — a team that built homes and reinforced the settlement with a mixture of human engineering and Eden-grown materials.
Which is how I met him.
He burst out of a shed carrying a box of glowing metal coils, tripped over a vine, recovered mid-fall, then saluted us with a grin that said he'd been waiting for an audience.
"You must be the new guy!" he said, shoving his goggles up into his hair. "I'm Elias. Seventeen. Genius. Maybe. Jury's still out."
Zara muttered, "Dear god."
Elias ignored her. He shoved a coil at me.
"It hums, right? Everything hums now. Isn't that amazing?"
"It's vibrating," I said.
"YES. That's humming!"
He ran ahead, waving for us to follow.
"I'll show you the stabilizers! And the root anchors! And the thing I'm not technically allowed to show you but will anyway!"
Zara groaned.
Lyra absolutely adored him within seconds.
Orion stared like Elias was speaking in tongues. I laughed. A real laugh. The kind I hadn't felt since before the world broke.
Karura Haven had given us many things in those first days: safety, food, warmth, purpose. But above all, it gave us a gift we'd forgotten how to accept. Hope.