Solace drifted in a place that did not feel alive.
His soul was now a fractured ember, a third of what it should have been.
Chunks of it were missing, torn out clean.
Cracks webbed through what remained.
Faint silver threads, thin as hairs, held the fragments together—Cassia's ring.
It pulsed faintly with warmth.
More like… pressure.
As if it were forcing his soul to stay intact against its will.
In the far distance of that inner void, he heard a faint metallic ringing. A memory of a sword screaming through the air. Aeon's strike. The exact moment, his vision went dark.
Then—
A gasp.
Something tugged him upward.
Two Months Later — Present
A soft hum broke the stillness.
Sterile air. Clean sheets. A faint scent of herbs and disinfectant.
His eyes—what was left of them—opened slowly.
Only darkness greeted him on the right side.
A blurred, faint light on the left.
His body felt weightless but stiff, as if he'd been lying still for ages.
A quiet voice gasped.
"He—he's awake! He's—someone notify his family, quick!"
Nurses hurried out of the room.
Another pair of footsteps rushed toward his bedside.
"Solace… can you hear me?"
He exhaled.
His throat felt sandpaper-dry.
"…yes."
"Good," the nurse said, voice warm but trembling. "You've been unconscious for two months. You're safe now. Your family is on their way."
Safe.
He lifted his right hand slowly, touching the bandages across his eyes.
Footsteps thundered outside.
Someone collided with the door frame in their rush.
A voice cracked—half sob, half disbelief.
"Move—move—let me through—!"
Then warmth crashed into his arms.
His mother.
Celeste's tears soaked the bandages on his shoulder as she clutched him like he might vanish again.
"Thank the gods—thank every star—you're awake—"
Her voice broke into small, breathless sobs.
"I thought I'd lost you. I thought—I thought—"
He raised a trembling hand and touched her hair.
"I'm here, Mom."
His father stood beside her—Leonard, usually stone-faced and stoic.
Now his jaw was tight, his nostrils flaring as he forced the emotion down.
He placed a rough, steadying hand on Solace's ankle—the place he could reach without interrupting his wife's embrace.
"… Welcome back, son."
Even he couldn't hide the relief in his voice.
Two more shadows rushed in.
"No—no way—big bro—!"
Luna threw herself onto the bed at his other side, careful but unable to hold back tears.
Noah grabbed the railing of the bed so hard his knuckles went white.
"You idiot," Noah breathed, voice cracking. "You scared the shit out of us."
Luna nodded fiercely, burying her face against Solace's ribs.
"You weren't waking up. They said you might never wake up. We—"
Her voice trembled.
"We missed you so much."
Solace tightened his grip on the pendant.
He couldn't see their faces.
But he heard them.
Felt them.
A warmth unfurled in his chest—quiet, steady, painful in a good way.
He then raised his other hand—weak, trembling—and felt the pendant lying on his chest.
He held it gently between his fingers like a lifeline.
"I'm… back," he voiced, a soft smile forming despite the ache in his chest.