The bell for the final class rang.Students burst out of the classroom as if the school were on fire.
Elior, on the other hand, remained seated, his gaze lost beyond the window. The teacher had already said goodbye, but his words dissolved into a distant echo. Elior's mind was not there… it was trapped in a sea of thoughts heavier than the backpack resting on his desk.
"Hey, Elior."Emily's cheerful voice snapped him out of it.
She rested her hands on his desk, leaning forward with a bright smile."Want to go to the shopping district?"
Elior slowly turned toward her and put on that warm smile he knew how to use so well—the one that fooled everyone except himself."Thanks… but I already have plans."
The disappointment on Emily's face lasted only a moment before the stampede of students swept her toward the exit.
An instant later, amid the crowd, a flash of red hair appeared, followed by hurried footsteps."Come on, turtle!"
Hina bumped into his desk and grabbed his arm with enthusiasm."Are you ready for the trip?"
Elior didn't answer. He simply returned a sincere smile—the only genuine one he could still give.
"The train leaves at 7:30. Do you have everything ready?" she asked as they walked together down the hallway."Yes, my bag's packed…" Elior lowered his voice. "But before that, I have an appointment. With the psychologist."
"Oh!" Hina smacked her forehead. "I forgot! Then I'll wait for you at the station. Don't be late, okay?""I won't. I promise."
They parted ways at the corner of the neighborhood.
The walk to the medical center felt like dragging invisible chains. Every step was a weight. Every heartbeat, a drum pounding in his chest.
In front of the consultation room door, Elior stopped. One minute. Two. Five.He could turn around and leave. Pretend he had forgotten.
But in the end… he took a deep breath and went in.
The doctors greeted him calmly, but their eyes didn't lie. They knew. They knew he was lying—that the smiles were nothing more than a disguise.
"You can't keep burying everything you feel, Elior," the psychologist said firmly.
He lowered his gaze. His leg trembled on its own, betraying what his mouth refused to say."I know it's wrong…" he murmured. "But burying it makes me feel… a little better."
He smiled. But there was no smile in his eyes—only a deep emptiness, impossible to hide.
An hour later, he walked out with a bag of medication in his hand. Outside, the sky, already stained orange, reminded him of his promise to Hina.It was 7:20 p.m.
At the station, Hina checked her watch over and over. The train was about to depart. Elior wasn't replying to messages. He wasn't answering calls.
Inside her, disappointment and anxiety fought like two beasts.
The whistle sounded. The train left without him.
Meanwhile, Elior wandered aimlessly through the shopping district. He saw groups of teenagers laughing, couples walking hand in hand… and his own reflection in the shop windows—alone, with the shadow of anger lurking behind his eyes.
He returned home defeated. Everything was perfectly ordered: by size, by color, by shape. Artificial control in a world where nothing truly was.
On the sofa, his packed suitcase stared back at him like an accusation.Then he remembered.
Hina. The trip. The promise.
He ran toward the station, dialing her number again and again.Nothing.
At 8:30, he caught the last train bound for Velmira. He boarded, breathless, fingers trembling, and typed a quick message:
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the first time… but I promise I'll do everything I can to make it the last. I'm sorry for everything."
He swallowed one of the pills.And before he realized it, sleep pulled him under.
The clock at Velmira Station read 11:42 p.m.
The streets were silent. The town slept, just as it always had.
Elior stepped off the train and exhaled softly."Some habits never change…"
He walked slowly between the houses, letting every memory strike his chest like an invisible hammer.When he passed the place where everything had begun… tears spilled out without permission.
He wiped them away quickly. He didn't want to arrive looking like that.
He knocked on the door of his old, warmly lit house.
Hina opened it.
Her light, as always, wrapped around him.
"Welcome home, turtle."
Elior smiled—truly—for the first time all day."I'm back."
The warm light of the house contrasted with the darkness of the night.Elior stepped inside, leaving the silence of the street behind.
The aroma of freshly brewed tea wrapped around him at once. On the table, three steaming cups waited, as if they had been expecting him.
"You're late," Hina said, but her tone held no reproach—only relief.
"I know…" Elior lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."
Before he could say anything else, a blond whirlwind threw itself against him.
"Elior!" Lia hugged him tightly, her small arms barely reaching around his waist. Her green eyes brimmed with tears, and her simple dress was dusted with flour.
"Lia… you've grown," he whispered in surprise, resting a hand on her head.
From the other side of the room, a boy with a firm gaze and straight posture watched in silence.
"You took too long." Aramis crossed his arms. His voice sounded harsh, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of emotion.
Elior returned a faint smile."I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Aramis. Always so direct."
Hina, still standing near the table, let out an exaggerated sigh and pointed at all of them.
"Alright, enough drama! Sit down already. If we keep this up, the tea's going to get cold."
The four gathered around the table. The atmosphere, heavy with emotion at first, gradually softened. Between sips of tea, they talked about small things: the village, the harvest, training, school. Simple things… but to Elior, they were a balm.
He watched them in silence, as if trying to carve every gesture into his memory.It hadn't been that long—yet this corner of the world still felt untouched, still waiting for him.
5:30 a.m.
The village was still asleep, but Elior was not.
He rose quietly, like someone unwilling to disturb memories that hurt. A piece of bread, a jacket thrown on, and he stepped outside into the fresh morning air.
The peace of Velmira smelled of wet earth and wood, and it eased his chest. He chopped firewood near the edge of the forest with hands used to labor. The axe sang in his grip. Each strike was a note that put his thoughts in order. Later, he gathered herbs from the meadows: ginger for the house and a few leaves for Kael's tea.
As he walked down the main street, he met neighbors opening their shops. Genuine smiles. Looks that demanded no explanations.
"Elior, could you help me with this market bag?" asked Mrs. Maiko in her gentle voice.
"Of course, Mrs. Maiko. Let me take that," he replied softly, lifting it as if it weighed nothing.
Further ahead, Mr. Vicent greeted him with his usual booming voice.
"Elior! The well pump's acting up again. Could you take a look?"
"I'll be right there—let me grab my tools," Elior said, already moving, fulfilling the task without any need for praise.
Mrs. Alice added, with a neighbor's curiosity,"And Hina? Still asleep?"
"Probably dreaming about dragons," Elior replied, and they both laughed.
Despite the routine, something still tugged at his chest: the night of fire, the white light, the promise he had made to himself. But for now, the work anchored him. It kept him breathing.
When he reached the temple, Kael was still in meditation. Elior sat beside him and observed quietly. The master opened his eyes, unsurprised.
"You seem more centered," Kael said softly, with the calm of someone who had weathered many storms. "How are things in the city?"
"Better than I expected," Elior replied with a shrug. "Training helps keep my head from exploding."
Kael nodded. Nothing more needed to be said.
The morning passed in small tasks, gentle conversations, and the laughter of children who knew nothing of tragedy. Elior allowed himself to enjoy those moments: chopping wood, handing out bread, fixing the pump. All simple. All human. And with each act, a bit of calm returned to him.
11:40 a.m.
Hina woke as if emerging from another world.
She sat up groggily and found, beside her pillow, a tray with a warm breakfast and a note written in playful handwriting:
"Good morning (or maybe good afternoon), sleepyhead. Would you honor us with your presence once you awaken from your eternal slumber? We'll be by the river, ten minutes south.P.S.: This breakfast is my official apology for yesterday.P.S.2: Please take a shower. You smell like an abandoned sloth.With affection, —Elior."
Hina smiled and let out a quiet laugh."Idiot…" she muttered under her breath.
She got up and, curiosity stirring, went to grab her backpack… which, for some reason, was in Elior's room.
As she lifted it, several papers slipped out. Clinical documents. Brain scans, charts, crossed-out notes—and a header that froze her smile in place:
Eversight Psychiatric Hospital.
She read the words she never expected to see:"Post-traumatic stress disorder.""Major depression.""Reduced activity in key areas.""Risk of self-harm.""Urgent meeting with legal guardian recommended."
Her chest tightened. A thin thread of pain pulled taut.
Hina stood frozen as tears spilled without warning.
"Elior…" she whispered. "Why did you carry all of this alone?"
She wiped her face quickly, shoved the papers into her bag, and dressed in a blink. She didn't think—she ran toward the stream where they had to be.
The sunlight was gentle when Hina reached the river. Kael sat in the shade as always, calm and composed. The children played in the water—Lia and Aramis splashing without a care. Elior stood nearby, smiling naturally as he joined them. What Hina had seen in those papers burned like an ember in her throat.
Kael commented calmly upon seeing her:
"They have plenty of energy today."
She didn't answer at first. She approached silently, and when there was a pause, she pulled the papers from her bag and placed them on the bench without theatrics.
"Uncle Kael, could you take the kids for a walk? I need to talk to Elior about something urgent, and I'd like a bit of privacy."
"Is everything alright, Hina?"
"More or less. I'll explain later—but first, I need to talk to Elior."
"Alright, my child."
Kael moved to call Aramis and Lia, since it was getting late and they needed to study. Aramis, knowing full well that "studying" sounded like a lie, blurted out what he was thinking.
"Hina's confessing her love to my brother," he said, laughing.
She only told him not to be stupid, and that if he said something like that again, she'd hide all the sweets for the rest of the weekend.
Elior, meanwhile, looked at Hina and immediately sensed that something was wrong—something urgent. So, as Kael led the children back toward the village, Elior sat down beside her on the bench.
The warm light of the house contrasted with the darkness of the night.Elior stepped inside, leaving the silence of the street behind.
The aroma of freshly brewed tea enveloped him at once. On the table, three steaming cups waited, as if they had been expecting him.
"You're late," Hina said, but her tone held no reproach—only relief.
"I know…" Elior lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."
Before he could say anything more, a blond whirlwind threw itself against him.
"Elior!" Lia hugged him tightly, her small arms barely reaching around his waist. Her green eyes were filled with tears, and her simple dress was stained with flour.
"Lia… you've grown," he whispered in surprise, resting a hand on her head.
From the other side of the room, a boy with a firm gaze and straight posture watched in silence.
"You took too long." Aramis crossed his arms. His voice sounded harsh, but his eyes reflected a glimmer of emotion.
Elior returned a faint smile."I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Aramis. Always so direct."
Hina, still standing near the table, let out an exaggerated sigh and pointed at all of them.
"Alright, enough drama! Come sit down. If we keep this up, the tea's going to get cold."
The four of them gathered around the table. The atmosphere, though heavy with emotion at first, gradually softened. Between sips of tea, they talked about small things: the village, the harvest, training, school. Simple things… but to Elior, they were a balm.
He watched them in silence, as if trying to carve every gesture into his memory.It hadn't been that long. And yet, this corner of the world still felt intact, as if it had been waiting for him.
5:30 a.m.
The village was still asleep, but Elior was not.
He rose without a sound, like someone who doesn't want to disturb memories that hurt. A piece of bread, a jacket thrown on in haste, and he stepped out into the cool morning air.
The peace of Velmira smelled of damp earth and wood, and it did him good.
He chopped firewood near the edge of the forest with hands accustomed to labor. The axe sang in his grip. Each strike was a note that brought order to his thoughts. Later, he gathered herbs from the fields: ginger for the house, and a few leaves for Kael's tea.
As he walked down the main street, he ran into neighbors opening their shops. Genuine smiles. Looks that asked for no explanations.
"Elior, could you help me with this market bag?" Mrs. Maiko asked in her gentle voice.
"Of course, Mrs. Maiko. Let me take that." He smiled softly and lifted the bag as if it weighed nothing.
Further ahead, Mr. Vicent greeted him with his usual voice.
"Elior! The well pump isn't working again. Could you take a look?"
"I'll be right there—let me grab my tools." And off he went, fulfilling the task without any fuss.
Mrs. Alice added, with a neighbor's curiosity,"And Hina? Still asleep?"
"Probably dreaming about dragons," Elior replied, and the two of them laughed.
Despite the routine, something still tugged at his chest: the night of fire, the white light, the promise he had made to himself. But for now, the work anchored him. It kept him breathing.
When he reached the temple, Kael was still in meditation. Elior sat beside him and observed quietly. The master opened his eyes, unsurprised.
"You look more centered," Kael said softly, with the calm of someone who had weathered many storms. "How are things in the city?"
"Better than I expected," Elior replied with a shrug. "Training helps keep my head from exploding."
Kael nodded. He said nothing more; none was needed.
The morning passed with small tasks, gentle conversations, and the laughter of children who knew nothing of tragedy. Elior allowed himself to enjoy those moments: chopping wood, handing out bread, fixing the pump. All simple. All human. And in doing so, a bit of calm returned to him.
11:40 a.m.
Hina woke as if she were emerging from another world.
She sat up, disoriented, and found beside her pillow a tray with a warm breakfast and a note written in playful handwriting:
"Good morning (or maybe good afternoon), sleepyhead. Would you honor us with your presence once you awaken from your eternal slumber? We'll be by the river, ten minutes south.P.S.: This breakfast is my official apology for yesterday.P.S.2: Please take a shower. You smell like an abandoned sloth.With affection, —Elior."
Hina smiled and let out a quiet laugh."Idiot…" she muttered under her breath.
She got up and, curiosity stirring, went to grab her backpack… which, for some reason, was in Elior's room.
As she opened it, several papers slipped out. Clinical documents: brain scans, charts, crossed-out notes—and a header that froze her smile in place:
Eversight Psychiatric Hospital.
She read the words she had never expected to see:"Post-traumatic stress disorder.""Major depressive disorder.""Areas of reduced activity.""Risk of self-harm.""Urgent meeting requested with legal guardian."
A knot formed. A thin thread of pain tightening in her chest.
Hina froze. Tears spilled out without warning.
"Elior…" she whispered. "Why did you keep all of this to yourself?"
She wiped her face quickly, stuffed the papers into her bag, and got dressed in the blink of an eye. She didn't think—she ran toward the stream, where everyone was sure to be.
The sun shone gently when Hina reached the river.
Kael was sitting in the shade, as always, calm and composed. The children were playing in the water—Lia and Aramis splashing around without a care in the world. Elior stood nearby, sending water flying and smiling naturally.
What Hina had read burned like an ember in her throat.
Seeing her arrive, Kael commented casually,"They certainly have plenty of energy today."
She didn't answer at first. She approached quietly, and when there was a brief pause, she took the papers from her bag and placed them on the bench without any drama.
"Uncle Kael, could you take the kids for a walk? I need to talk to Elior about something urgent, and I'd really appreciate some privacy."
"Is everything alright, Hina?"
"More or less. I'll explain later—but first I need to talk to Elior."
"I understand, my dear."
Kael moved to call both Aramis and Lia. It was already getting late, and they were supposed to study. Aramis, knowing full well that "studying" sounded like a lie, spoke without thinking.
"Hina's confessing her love to my brother," he said with a laugh.
She only managed to tell him not to be stupid—and warned him that if he said something like that again, she'd hide all the sweets for the rest of the weekend.
Meanwhile, Elior looked at Hina and immediately sensed that something was wrong—something urgent. So while Kael led the children back toward the village, Elior sat down beside her on the bench.
"What happened, Hina? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
"I read the papers, Elior…" she said softly. "All of this… was it true?"
Elior looked at her. A silence fell—heavier than any words.
"I knew you'd find them," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
Hina didn't ask for explanations. She moved closer, and with a trembling voice, offered him what he needed most: presence.
"Don't apologize for suffering. You're not alone. You know that if the world comes crashing down on you, you have me. Do you hear me?" she said, squeezing his hand.
Elior tried to smile. What came out was fragile—but real.
"Thank you… I'm fine. Don't put too much weight on those papers. It's just that lately… I keep dreaming about that night. That white light… I hear my family screaming. Sometimes I feel like, if I'd been stronger…" His voice broke.
"Don't say that." Hina hugged him tightly. "You were just a child."
He shook his head in silence. He was afraid, and he didn't know how to react.
"I don't want to lose anyone else," he said quietly. "If something happened to you, to Kael, to the kids… I couldn't take it."
Hina squeezed his hand.
"You're not going to lose me. We've been inseparable since we met—five years ago."
They stayed there for most of the afternoon. Hina's presence always calmed him, like a warm bandage wrapped around an open wound. But the calm was never complete.
At some point in their conversation, Elior's senses sharpened. His body tensed, as if something were wrong. He dismissed it at first, attributing it to the anxiety of the moment…
But as they dried in the sun, Elior suddenly grew serious and stared toward the horizon.
His instincts—honed by broken nights—picked up on something. A putrid stench drifting from the south. A discordant note in the calm.
He stood up at once and looked at Hina, worry etched across his face.
"Hina, you need to leave. Now. Run back to the village."
She could only stare at him, not understanding why he was saying that. But she saw it in his expression—a face filled with concern.
Something was wrong. Something had unsettled Elior.
"Why? What's wrong, Elior?" she asked, alarmed.
"Run. Now!" he ordered. "Run as close to the village as you can and call for Kael. Don't look back!"
Hina, her heart lodged in her throat, obeyed. She ran with all her strength toward the village in search of Kael.
The wind suddenly surged, violently lifting leaves and dust into the air.The stench became unbearable—rotting flesh, sulfur, rust—like the air itself was decaying.
They were small demons, grotesque creatures with twisted limbs like broken branches and massive spikes protruding from their backs. Their eyes gleamed with hunger. They moved with unnatural speed, and their presence alone froze the blood in one's veins.
Elior stepped forward, positioning himself between the creatures and the road to the village.
"You won't get past me," he said, wearing an unnaturally exaggerated smile.
The shadow beneath his feet stirred, as if responding to the challenge. It crawled up his arms, darkening his veins, and aggressively flooded Elior's mind with images of his family's death—their voices, their screams, and the promise he had made to himself.
Elior knew he should wait for Kael.But he didn't.
The first demon lunged.
Elior met it with a dry, crushing blow that echoed along the riverbank. The creature exploded into pieces—blood and remains scattering before dissolving into nothing. It wasn't a strike. It was a hammer blow. The sound lingered, echoing through the mountains.
The other three attacked immediately, surrounding him.
Elior inhaled once—and then unleashed himself.
His movements became a storm of blows: fists, elbows, kicks. Each impact more vicious than the last. There was no restraint, no calculation—only pure rage translated into force. In seconds, another demon lay in pieces, grotesquely split in half, its essence vaporized by the violent barrage. For a brief moment, the river ran red from the blood spilling into it.
The third demon, desperate and cornered, drove its spikes into Elior, trying to force him to release its throat. But Elior reveled in every second. To him, the creature was nothing more than an insignificant thing, offering no real resistance.
He looked the demon in the eyes—and with his free hand, drove it straight through the abdomen, tearing it in half as if it were nothing more than a dry tree branch.
Hina, just reaching the village and unable to hold it in any longer, screamed with everything she had.
"KAAAAEL! HELP!"
Kael, who was already at the house, heard her. At the same time, he sensed the stench from afar. He told the children not to leave the house, rose in an instant, and ran—his speed worthy of a hidden angel.
Hina saw Kael flash past her, a gust of wind following in his wake. Part of her wanted to run back to the house—but her worry for Elior was stronger. She turned and ran back toward the river.
When Kael arrived, his eyes widened.
His expression froze.
Before him lay the scene: three dead demons in the riverbed, their bodies unrecognizable—and Elior standing at the center of the slaughter. The shadow covered half his torso like a living cloak; its edges were sharp and pure. His silver eyes glowed with a light that was not human—cold, intense, detached.
The last demon—the largest one, with long claws and a mouth full of teeth—was stuck in the mud. Elior showed no mercy. He grabbed it by the neck with a bloodied hand and dragged it through the mire, planting it into the earth like a doll. Holding it down, he began to strike its face again and again.
His fists moved in an unbroken rhythm, like a metronome of fury: boom, boom, boom.
The demon struggled, but its eyes slowly dulled. Each blow loosened its jaw. Each blow erased that bestial gaze. Its skin split open, dark blood splashing over Elior's clothes, mixing with the shadow that clung to him. In a final, desperate act, the demon pierced Elior's leg, injecting a mild paralytic venom—one that had no effect.
"Enough!" Kael shouted.
Hina arrived just as Elior continued to strike the demon without pause. She froze, paralyzed by fear and pain. She didn't recognize this version of Elior—nor had she ever truly seen what demons were like.
With resolve, Kael ran toward the point in the forest where the ground had begun to split open. The fissure pulsed with dark light. He muttered an ancient prayer through clenched teeth, the words resonating like metal and fire. Raising his open palm to the sky, he summoned a seal.
White light, sharp as a blade, descended and began to coil around the wound in the world.
While Kael worked on the seal, the brutality at the river continued.
Elior delivered one final, precise blow to the demon's face. The impact was dry and absolute, so powerful it seemed to rattle even the forming seal. The creature stopped moving. The blood ceased to flow. The sound of the last strike echoed—and Elior pulled his hand free from the demon's shattered face.
He leaned over the corpse, breathing heavily.
Then—whether reclaiming some shred of humanity or simply marking his victory—he screamed.
It wasn't a word.
It was a roar.
An animal, savage, piercing cry—the sound of a hunter who had caught and killed its prey. The release of an inner beast. The sound cut across the river and into the trees.
Hina dropped to her knees, trembling, as Kael—without taking his eyes off the forming seal—ran back toward them. The circle of light closed with a thunderous crash. The rift sealed shut. The corrupt energy of Gehenna vanished. The air became just air again. The putrid stench faded.
Elior stood upright, panting. His shadow coiled around him, vibrating with a will of its own—wanting more, demanding more blood.
Kael appeared before him in the blink of an eye. He placed his palm on Elior's shoulder and spoke firmly.
"Enough, Elior!"
The young man looked at him, silver eyes still burning. The shadow trembled, resisting.
Kael closed his eyes and tightened his grip. A soft but steady white light bloomed from his hand.
"Listen to me. This is not who you are. Come back to yourself, my son."
Elior clenched his teeth. His breathing was ragged, almost feral. Slowly, the shadow withdrew, as if obeying against its will. It dissolved beneath his feet, leaving only the boy—kneeling, trembling, his body marked by the wounds of battle.
"Ah… ah…" Elior gasped, fists bloodied, eyes still faintly glowing.
Kael caught him before he could collapse forward and looked at him with deep concern.
Hina fought against herself—but when she saw Elior barely conscious, she didn't hesitate. She ran to them, knelt beside him, and hugged him tightly, ignoring the sweat, the blood, the lingering darkness.
"Idiot…" she said through tears. "Don't scare me like that again."
Elior lowered his head. His voice was weak, barely a whisper.
"I'm sorry…"
Kael watched them both in silence. On his face was a mix of relief and fear.
He knew what he had just witnessed.He knew what it meant.
What he didn't know… was how to teach Elior to control it.
"Elior… your eyes… your body… for a moment…" Hina said, her voice trembling.
He lowered his gaze.He couldn't bring himself to look at her.
He read the words he never expected to see: "post-traumatic stress," "major depression," "areas of reduced activity," "risk of self-harm," "request an urgent meeting with legal guardian."A knot formed. A single thread of pain tightening in his chest.
Hina froze. Tears welled up without warning.
"Elior…" she whispered. "Why did you keep all of this to yourself?"
She wiped her face quickly, stuffed the papers into her bag, got dressed in the blink of an eye. She didn't think—she ran straight to the stream, where everyone was probably gathered.
The sun shone softly when Hina reached the river. Kael was sitting in the shade, as always, calm and composed. The children were playing in the water—Lia and Aramis splashing around carefree. Elior stood nearby, splashing them back, smiling naturally.What Hina had read burned like an ember in her throat.
Kael noticed her and commented casually, "They've got plenty of energy today."
She didn't answer right away. She approached quietly and, when there was a moment to breathe, pulled the papers from her bag and placed them on the bench without dramatics.
"Uncle Kael, could you take the kids for a walk? I need to talk to Elior about something urgent, and I'd really appreciate some privacy."
"Is everything alright, Hina?"
"More or less. I'll explain later. I just need to talk to Elior first."
"Alright, my dear."
Kael moved to call Aramis and Lia, since it was getting late and they had to study. Aramis knew that "studying" sounded like a lie, so without thinking twice, he blurted out what was on his mind.
"Hina's confessing her love to my brother," he said, laughing.
She only managed to tell him not to be stupid, and that if he said something like that again, she'd hide all the candy for the rest of the weekend.
Elior, meanwhile, only looked at Hina and immediately sensed that something was wrong—something urgent. So while Kael led the children back toward the village, he sat down beside her on the bench.
"What happened, Hina? Are you okay?" he asked, worried.
"I read the papers, Elior…" she said softly. "All of this… was it true?"
Elior looked at her. A silence fell, heavier than any words.
"I knew you'd find them," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
Hina didn't ask for explanations. She moved closer and, with a trembling voice, offered him what he needed most: her presence.
"Don't apologize for suffering. You're not alone. You know that if the world comes crashing down on you, you have me. Do you hear me?" she said, squeezing his hand.
Elior tried to smile, and what came out was fragile, but real.
"Thank you… I'm fine. Don't put too much weight on those papers. It's just that… lately I dream about that night. That white light… I hear my family screaming. Sometimes I feel that if I'd been stronger…" His voice broke.
"Don't say that," Hina said, hugging him tightly. "You were just a child."
He shook his head in silence. He was afraid, and he didn't know how to react.
"I don't want to lose anyone else," he said in a low voice. "If something happened to you, to Kael, to the kids… I couldn't take it."
Hina squeezed his hand.
"You're not going to lose me. We've been inseparable since we met—five years now."
They stayed there for most of the afternoon. Hina's presence always calmed him, like a warm bandage. But the calm was never complete. At some point in the conversation, Elior's senses sharpened, his body tensing as if something were wrong. He didn't give it much thought, blaming it on the anxiety of the moment.
As they dried under the sun, Elior suddenly grew serious and stared toward the horizon. His instincts—honed by countless broken nights—picked up something wrong. A putrid stench drifting from the south, a discordant note in the calm.
He stood up immediately and looked at Hina, worried.
"Hina, you need to leave right now. Run back to the village."
She just stared at him, confused, not understanding why he was saying that. But she saw it on his face—a deep concern, something clearly unsettling him.
Kael took a deep breath and crossed his arms.
"We're going home. We'll talk there. This can't happen again, Elior."
"I can't let that thing consume you," he added quietly, concern heavy in his voice.
Elior nodded slowly. Hina grabbed his arm, as if holding him upright so he wouldn't collapse.
Night arrived quickly, as if afraid of what had just happened. When they reached the house, it was silent.
The children were asleep in their rooms. Only the kettle in the kitchen broke the stillness with a faint hiss.
The living room smelled of tea. Kael placed three cups on the table and poured with steady hands. The silence filled with meaning.
"I don't know exactly what that was, Elior… but I've never seen you like that before," Kael said seriously, without taking his eyes off him.
Elior held the cup between his hands. He didn't drink.
"Neither have I. It was like… a part of me took control. I didn't feel pain. I didn't think about anything except fighting. I just felt rage. And when I hit… I didn't want to stop."
Hina wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Her eyes shone with restrained tears.
"Does it have anything to do with what you told me earlier…?" she asked softly. "That white light… losing your parents…"
Elior nodded. His breathing grew shallow.
"There isn't a night I don't dream about it," he murmured. "And lately, every time I close my eyes, it's like I'm back there. Not just in dreams—awake too. Today… it was like all that pain was pushing me to fight. Like, for a moment… I enjoyed the violence. And even though I hate admitting it… it felt good."
Kael frowned.
"That's not who you are. That's not your essence, Elior. But if you let the pain build up without releasing it, it'll rot you from the inside."
A painful silence fell. A sharp silence.
Hina moved closer, sat beside him, and placed her hand over his. Her voice was gentle, but firm.
"You don't have to carry this alone. That's why we're here. That's why I'm here."
Elior looked at her for the first time since the fight. His gray eyes, dulled by exhaustion, met hers. For a moment, there was a truce.
Kael stood and walked toward the door.
"Tomorrow we train. Not just the body… the mind too. If that darkness stays inside you, we'll tame it. Because if you don't, someone else will." His tone was irritated.
Before leaving, Kael turned back.
"Get some rest. Both of you. Elior, we leave at first light tomorrow."
The warm light barely illuminated the living room. Elior went to his room and sat down with difficulty, still panting. His fists were bleeding, his clothes soaked in dried and fresh blood. His body wouldn't respond. His muscles, exhausted by the brutal battle, simply refused to move.
Hina passed by the hallway, saw him unable to move, and approached silently with a towel over her shoulder. Her expression had changed. She was still scared, yes—but more than that… she was determined.
"Elior…" she said, standing in front of him. "Let me help you. Please."
He didn't respond. He couldn't. Pride hurt, but exhaustion hurt more.
Carefully, Hina began removing his bloodstained hoodie. She did it slowly, knowing every movement hurt him. His skin was covered in bruises, scratches, and small cuts still bleeding. When she removed the top completely, his back and chest were exposed, marked by inhuman effort. Hina held her breath.
"You're covered in wounds, idiot," she whispered. "You can't keep doing this…"
"I'm fine," he replied hoarsely. "I just need… to rest a bit."
Hina knelt and carefully removed his pants, helping him stand and then guiding him into the bathroom. She didn't say anything else. She closed the door behind him.
After a while, Elior came out with wet hair, wrapped in a towel, his gaze distant. Hina was still waiting in the hallway.
"Hina," he said bluntly. "You shouldn't be here. Not after what you saw."
She looked at him, confused.
"What are you talking about?"
He lowered his gaze, his eyes hidden beneath his bangs.
"You shouldn't be near me… You know what's in my world now. Angels. Demons. Blood. And I… I'm not going to stop, Hina. Not until they're all dead. I won't allow what happened to happen again. I won't forgive anyone who crosses into Geheris. It doesn't matter which side they're on."
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with restrained fury.
"So it's better if you stay away from me before I drag you down with me."
Hina stepped forward, her eyes now wet.
"Do you think I don't know what you're saying? That I don't understand?"
She placed both hands on his face, forcing him to look at her, then pressed her forehead against his.
"You're a mess, yes. But so am I. Maybe not like you, but I know what it feels like to not want to keep going. And you know what? I'm not leaving. I won't leave you alone. No matter what happens."
Elior closed his eyes. That closeness… that warmth… was the only thing that could calm the fire roaring inside him.
"Thank you, Hina…" he murmured.
She didn't say anything else. She slowly stepped back and went to her room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
The next morning
Elior was already on his feet with effort, dressed and calmer. He was leaving the house with Kael, heading toward the temple, when a sleepy voice broke the silence.
"Hey, wait up!"
They both turned around. There was Hina—messy hair, rumpled clothes, her face still marked by sleep, but with a determined expression.
"You… awake at this hour?" Kael asked, amused.
"I'm dreaming, right?" Elior added, letting out a short laugh.
"Don't make me talk," she said, walking like a zombie. "Let's go… I'm not missing this."
The three of them continued toward the temple. The morning air smelled of forest; the village was barely waking up.
Once there, Kael asked Elior to lie down at the center of a circle drawn on the floor—an ancient angelic symbol used to explore the truth within the soul.
"Relax, Elior. I won't do anything you don't allow. I just want you to tell me… everything. Step by step. I know it'll hurt, but do your best, my son."
Elior closed his eyes.
"Alright," he murmured.
And he began.
Back to that night…
"It was… a chaotic night. The ground wouldn't stop moving; it shook, calmed for brief moments, only to tremble again.My parents told Liora and me to hide. They went out to help the village. Before I could grab my sister… she got scared and ran after them. I followed her. I ran toward the village. And then… the sky tore open."
"A light fell from the heavens. An archangel… and behind him, a demon. They were monstrous. They slaughtered each other… destroying everything in their path. The temple's pillars collapsed like broken branches. Houses crumbled. The house where my parents were turned into rubble, trapping everyone inside."
"I ran toward them when I saw my parents and Liora buried under the debris. I tried to reach them, but the shockwaves kept throwing us back. A swarm of flying rubble cut my arm. And then… it happened."
Elior swallowed hard. His hands clenched as a shadow slithered across the floor.
"The archangel and the demon crashed down right in front of me. Both were bleeding… and suddenly I was covered in their blood. It seeped into my wound. I felt a burning sensation inside, like my entire body was on fire—especially my arm."
Kael and Hina listened in absolute silence. Elior's body began to tremble, as if the memory were piercing straight through him.
"I saw my father trying to pull my mother and my sister out of the rubble… He screamed at me to take my sister and run. I saw my mother pulling Liora free… And then the archangel began speaking in a strange language. A white light enveloped them… them… and the demon…"
Tears began to spill from Elior's eyes.
"And it left me alone… burned… crying on the ground."
His voice broke.
"I couldn't save them… I did nothing."
A dry fury rose in his throat.
"That's when I swore I would kill him with my own hands. Not just him," he said through clenched teeth. "Every last one of them. They paid for what they did to my family. To my village."
His breathing became frantic. The veins in his neck bulged, darkening. Rage, sorrow, and a ferocious determination intertwined.
"I'll kill all angels and demons!"
Hina couldn't hold it in anymore. She covered her mouth and cried silently.
Kael straightened, pale.
"So it was true…" he murmured.
"What do you mean?" Hina asked through sobs.
Kael looked at Elior, lying unconscious at the center of the circle—the ritual had put him to sleep—and spoke in a grave voice.
"The blood that covered him… it was likely from both beings. Angel and demon. That's why, when he fights… he changes."
Hina, her eyes red and swollen, stared at Elior as if trying to process an impossible truth.
"Kael… what Elior said. That blood… is that what made him this way?"
Kael nodded slowly, uncertainty weighing down his voice.
"Yes. And no. What happened to Elior… shouldn't be possible. The blood of an angel or a demon cannot coexist with that of a human. Normally, the body collapses. It dies."
Hina swallowed, her voice trembling.
"Then… why is he still alive? Why didn't Elior die that day?"
Kael looked at her with deep concern.
"I don't know. There are no records, no legends, no prophecies. Nothing that speaks of this. What Elior is… shouldn't exist. He survived something that should have killed him instantly. And not only that—he's changing. Every time he fights, every time he loses control, that mixture inside him activates."
Hina stepped back, a hand pressed to her chest.
"Kael… what's going to happen to him?"
Kael lowered his gaze, his voice heavy.
"I don't know, Hina. His existence is a mystery even to me. That power may consume him… or transform him into something neither Heaven nor Hell has ever seen before."
Hina pressed her lips together, anguish building.
"How do you know all this?" she asked. "Everything you said about the mixtures, about angelic and demonic blood… With all your knowledge, there has to be something that can help him."
Kael hesitated for a second. For the first time, a trace of insecurity crossed his face. Then he steadied himself and smiled gently, like someone leaning on a lifetime of study.
"I've spent my entire life studying these matters. I read every book and ancient fragment I could find. I became obsessed with understanding the balance between good and evil, celestial myths… I suppose fate wanted that knowledge to prepare me to help Elior. But nothing like this was ever mentioned."
His gaze hardened, though sadness lingered within it.
"He acts as if he can handle everything. But I know he's breaking inside. I won't leave him alone—even if he becomes someone else. I promised his parents."
Kael turned to Hina, his voice taking on a paternal tone.
"And I'm sure he won't fall apart as long as you're near. But remember this, Hina: even the brightest light can be lost if it has nothing anchoring it to this world."
Elior slowly began to awaken from the trance he was in.
"It's time to continue, Elior," Kael said, sounding calmer.
First Phase of Training
The morning breeze brushed the treetops surrounding the temple; the leaves still dripped with dew like tiny lamps.Kael inhaled deeply and fixed his gaze on Elior with a seriousness tempered by experience. Hina, wrapped in a blanket, settled onto a nearby rock—still sleepy, but curious about what was about to happen.
"Today won't be a normal training session, Elior," Kael said with a calm smile. "I want to see how much you've really progressed. And more importantly… how far you can go without losing control."
Elior nodded calmly, like someone accepting a necessary trial.
"Alright. I feel a bit rusty, but… a challenge sounds good."
"You're going to fight?" Hina asked from behind, half joking, half serious.
Kael shook his head.
"Not yet. First… you'll face this."
With a clap of his hands, Kael activated a hidden mechanism beneath the floor. The ground creaked, and with a whisper of wood and metal, three humanoid figures emerged. Their chests glowed with ancient runes; at first they looked like inert statues, solemn and still… until they sprang to life, moving with inhuman speed.
"What are those things?" Hina murmured, startled.
"Ancient automatons," Kael explained. "I restored them and added containment runes. They simulate real attacks. They won't stop until you deactivate them… or you run out of strength."
Elior cracked his neck and smiled with a hint of malice.
"Sounds fun."
The automatons lunged. The first fell effortlessly—Elior dodged fluidly, as if his body remembered movements etched into his blood. The other two closed in. The fight became a vigorous dance: Aikido, Muay Thai, Kenpō—combinations woven together with superhuman reflexes and pinpoint precision. Every turn, every block, resonated with the history of his training.
Kael barely moved. He observed—breathing, posture, gestures. He analyzed patterns like someone reading notes on a score. But what he watched most closely was the moment Elior's inner shadow might surface and run wild.
After several minutes, one automaton landed a blow to Elior's abdomen. The impact dropped him to his knees; he coughed, air escaping his lungs. He stood quickly, but something had changed—his eyes clouded for a few seconds, and a shadow crept along his hands.
"Something's changing…" Hina whispered, barely audible.
Kael thought silently: There it is. Just like last time. His energy is fluctuating. There's something deeper—contained, or containing him.
Elior's speed exploded. With a kick that cracked the ground and hurled an automaton into the wall, his strength became monstrous. His strikes grew heavier, his movements harsher. With a shout that shattered restraint, Elior delivered the final blow, and the metal head of the last figure shattered into pieces.
The temple fell into a heavy silence. Elior panted, fists clenched; a dark glow ran across his hands for an instant before fading. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling from the surge of adrenaline.
Kael approached with steady steps and placed a hand on his shoulder, calm and professional.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Elior took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
"Yes… though for a moment, it felt like… it wasn't me who was fighting."
Kael nodded, but his smile was restrained, without full relief.
"You're growing stronger, Elior. But don't forget who you are in the midst of power. Power is not always an ally."
As he spoke, his thoughts were clear: Elior is changing. And if he doesn't learn to control that mixture, he may become impossible to stop.
It was time to move on to the next stage. Kael sat in front of Elior and placed two fingers on his forehead with the calm of someone who handled ancient, sacred rhythms.
"This training isn't only of the body… but of the soul," he whispered. "If your power is born from the deepest part of you, that's where we must seek the answers."
Elior nodded without speaking. He sat in a lotus position inside the circle Kael had drawn with salt and incense powder. Hina stayed in a corner of the temple, wrapped in her blanket, her heart pounding against her ribs.
"Breathe. Focus," Kael murmured softly.
Elior closed his eyes.
The world faded to black.
A desolate landscape opened before him: ground black as charcoal, scorched trees like skeletal remains, wind howling as if the earth itself were sobbing. He was alone, rooted in the middle of nothingness. The light was cold and brittle.
From the mist, a silhouette emerged. It was not an exact memory—it carried the same energy as the archangel from the night of the tragedy, yet it was different. Harsher. More distant.
"Geheris has weakened," the figure said, its voice seeming to rise from stone itself. "The balance is about to break. What you witnessed back then… was only the beginning."
Elior stepped back instinctively. He tried to speak, but his throat closed tight.
"There is no turning back now," the silhouette continued. "What you carry within you is more than a forbidden mixture. It is an anomaly that neither Heaven nor Hell will allow to exist."
The ground trembled beneath his feet. Cracks split the earth open, like scars rocked by pain. From the sky, swords began to fall. Not one or two—hundreds. Blades of light tearing through the air, descending like judgment itself.
Then the vision shifted.
He saw himself a few years older. Staggering. Covered in fresh blood and open wounds that dripped onto the ground. His eyes shone with an unnatural glow—part white, part red. Alone. Surrounded by dozens of angels clad in gleaming armor, sacred spears and swords aimed at him with the cold detachment of a tribunal. They looked at him as an abomination. As something to be judged and excised.
Kael, still connected to the meditation, managed to glimpse the scene as well. He felt his soul pulled toward the same abyss; the vision dragged him in for an instant. He tried to intervene, but a force hurled him out of the dream as if a door had been slammed shut.
They awoke at the same time. Cold sweat soaked their skin.
"What was that…?" Kael said, shaken, his voice fractured by the impact.
Elior answered in a broken whisper.
"It was… clearer than ever. This time it wasn't a memory. It was a warning."
Hina rushed in, eyes wide with panic.
"Are you okay? You were completely still for several minutes!"
Kael didn't respond at first. He looked at Elior. At the hands that still trembled.
In his mind, a single phrase repeated like a dangerous echo: If the angels see him as a threat… everything can change.
The temple fell into a heavy silence. Kael and Hina watched Elior, still seated within the circle. His breathing was uneven; his hands shook as if they had learned a new rhythm.
Then a brief, cold laugh escaped Elior's lips. It sounded bitter, almost ironic.
"Trembling… fear… guilt. How ridiculous," he said, staring at his palms, his voice hardening. "No. No more."
A faint shockwave burst from his shadow, spreading outward before quickly retreating and rejoining his body.
He stood slowly. Morning light filtered through the cracks, bathing the temple in a golden hue that clashed with the darkness in his eyes.
"It doesn't matter if they come from Heaven or Hell," he declared, his voice firm and sharp. "It doesn't matter if they call me monster or savior. I will annihilate them. All of them."
He paused, gaze burning.
"But I won't let this darkness consume me. I will dominate it. My body. My mind. My power. Everything will be mine. And I will not allow anyone else to die for something I could stop."
Hina looked at him with restrained tears, worry etched across her face.
Kael, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward slowly. His eyes carried pride, fear, and sorrow—the look of a master watching his disciple grow. He placed a hand on Elior's shoulder, his voice gentle yet firm.
"Elior… every word you spoke carries strength. But it also carries pain. There is no glory in destruction. No redemption in vengeance."
He took a deep breath and met Elior's gaze with hardened tenderness.
"If this is your path, then we will train until your mind is stronger than any shadow. I will not let you be corrupted. I will not let you die."
Hina added, her voice trembling with emotion:
"And I won't let you be alone."
Elior nodded. The determination still burned within him, but Kael and Hina's presence anchored something human inside him. He looked toward the temple altar solemnly and said quietly:
"This will be my battlefield. I will protect everything I love."
The morning moved forward calmly. After training, Elior adjusted the improvised rope belt securing the firewood on his back. Beside him, Hina walked peacefully, carrying a basket filled with herbs and wild fruit.
"Today the sky looks cleaner than ever," Elior murmured, glancing upward.
"Cleaner than your conscience, that's for sure," Hina replied with a mischievous smile.
"Brutal," he laughed, lowering his gaze.
At the first house, an elderly man greeted them with a grateful laugh. Elior stacked the firewood near the hearth while Hina handed over sprigs of mint and red berries. They continued on, greeting neighbors who swept their porches or watered plants. Everyone knew Elior; everyone greeted Hina warmly.
"City boy!" a neighbor called. "Did you bring any strange stories this time?"
"If you laugh hard enough, maybe," Elior joked.
At the bakery, the open door released the irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread.
"The early birds! Come in, come in!" the baker said with open arms.
"Perfect timing—if you were any later, I'd have drunk the juice myself," his wife added playfully.
They were seated beneath the shade of a grapevine, with warm bread and fresh juice.
"So how's city life treating you, Elior?" the baker asked.
"A lot of noise and very few honest looks… I miss this more than I thought," he replied, biting into the bread.
"And you, Hina?" the wife asked with a sparkle in her eyes. "When are you going to steal him away? This boy looks like a heartbreaker."
Elior choked on his juice.
"Gh—!"
"Nothing like that!" Hina coughed, red as a tomato. "We're like siblings. Very close—but nothing more."
"Exactly," Elior added, wiping his mouth, nervous but laughing.
Laughter filled the table.
After saying goodbye, they continued walking.
"Did you see how you choked? It was beautiful," Hina laughed.
"I was caught off guard," he admitted.
They walked in silence for a while. Elior greeted people calmly, with a genuine smile. Hina watched him from the corner of her eye, thinking:
"This is how you should always be… like this. Happy."
"This place… I love it," Elior sighed. "But when everything gets too quiet… I hear what's inside me even louder."
Hina looked at him, then simply nodded.
When they reached the house, the smell of toasted bread and soup welcomed them. Lia ran to hug them; Aramis followed—and tripped face-first onto the floor.
"I got here first!" he said from the ground.
"Yeah, first to the floor," Hina laughed.
The kitchen was filled with warmth. Kael set the table naturally. Everything was laughter and fresh bread… until Elior went silent. His gaze fixed on the window. He didn't respond. His breathing didn't change. He was simply… absent.
"Elior…?" Hina asked, uneasy.
Suddenly, a thin line of blood ran from his nose. Then another. Hina jumped up.
"Elior!"
He blinked and came back to himself. He touched his face, looked at the blood, and forced a smile.
"I'm fine… don't worry."
But Kael stared at him. He knew it wasn't "just a memory."
Elior closed the bathroom door behind him. Water ran. He looked at himself in the mirror. The blood still fell. His hands trembled, but his eyes were steady.
Then the vision seized him.
Darkness.Deep heartbeats.
Velmira appeared from above—small, peaceful… until a massive fissure tore open in the forest. From within emerged enormous demons, crueler than any before. And in the midst of the chaos, a lone figure fought them, surrounded by flashes of white and red.
A deep voice rose from the chasm:
"Your blood does not belong to this world."
"We will open the path for you."
"And you… will decide which side bleeds first."
The vision shattered into fire and ash. Elior screamed without sound.
He woke bent over the sink, sweating, gasping.
"What was that?"
He knew it deep inside: something was coming. And it would not be like before.
A little calmer now, he left the bathroom and kept his promise to play with Lia and Aramis until the afternoon. Between laughter and races across the hill, the tension eased for a few hours. After playing with the children, they returned home to rest for a bit. At the table, Kael looked straight at him.
"Are you ready for the next part of the training?" he asked calmly.
"Yes," Elior replied with confidence.
"You're going to fight?!" Aramis jumped up.
"Can we watch?" Lia added excitedly.
Kael nodded.
"Of course. It'll be friendly."
At that moment, a sleepy voice interrupted.
"I'm watching too… I'm not missing this."
Everyone turned. Hina stood there in her pajamas, hair messy, barely awake after a long nap.
"You can't resist action," Kael laughed.
"You're going to fall asleep standing up," Elior added with a soft smile.
The temple breathed silence, broken only by the breeze slipping between the stone pillars. Kael adjusted his training uniform, white lines over dark fabric. In front of him, Elior settled into light clothing, ready to move without restriction. Both bowed in respect.
Kael attacked first.
His movements were fast and precise, as if each strike anticipated Elior's next step before he even thought it. The boy dodged, retreated, blocked… without throwing a single punch.
"What's wrong? Is the pup already tired?" Kael taunted, throwing a kick that Elior barely managed to block.
Then Elior smiled.
In a blink, he changed stance and counterattacked. His strikes were fluid, clean, direct. There was no trace of strange powers—only technique and training… but he no longer fought like the child he once was.
Kael stepped back for the first time.
"So you were studying me…" he said, surprised but amused.
"I know you too well, old man," Elior panted with a half-smile.
The clash continued. Blows, blocks, spins. Kael managed to throw him to the ground with a quick hold, but Elior sprang back up immediately and struck his knees with a precise double hit to break his balance.
"Oh!" Kael exclaimed, staggering.
Elior went for the finishing blow when, in an unexpected turn, Kael caught his leg and slammed him to the ground, locking his arm until he was immobilized.
"Point for me!" Kael laughed, breathing hard.
Applause echoed through the courtyard. Lia and Aramis jumped with excitement.
"That was awesome!" Lia shouted.
"I really thought you were going to win!" Aramis added, laughing.
Kael helped Elior up and gave him a pat on the chest.
"Almost, champ. But it's still ten to zero."
"For someone over fifty, you're still fast…" Elior muttered, amused.
Hina appeared with a towel and two bottles of water.
"Here, sweaty boys. Drink before you die of dehydration."
"Thanks, Nurse Hina!" Kael joked, taking a drink.
The children rushed Elior, pounding his chest with enthusiasm.
"You almost won! You're amazing!"
Elior closed his eyes. For a moment—between laughter and hugs—everything was truly calm.
Later, when everyone else had dispersed, Elior and Kael sat beneath a pink-leaved tree in the inner garden. They drank tea in silence until Kael spoke.
"You've improved a lot, Elior. But what surprises me most… isn't your strength."
Elior glanced at him.
"Then what is it?"
"The way you restrain the darkness inside you, no matter how difficult it is. That rage that surfaces every time you fight seriously."
Elior clenched his fist.
"I can't let it control me… but I can't ignore it either. I guess it's part of me."
"No. That darkness lives within you, but it isn't you. What matters isn't what you carry inside… but what you choose to do with it."
A brief silence followed.
"I'm afraid," Elior finally admitted. "Not of them—not of demons or angels… but of myself. Of reaching a point where I don't know whether I'm fighting for justice… or for hatred."
Kael didn't respond immediately. He simply placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You didn't choose this burden. But now it's yours. And destiny isn't written—it's built by your decisions. If you follow the path of hatred… you'll end up empty, son."
Elior lowered his gaze.
"That's why I don't want anyone else involved. Not Hina, not the kids… not you."
Kael sighed.
"Do you know what my mistake was when you were a child? Thinking that protecting you from everything would save you. All I did was force you to carry everything in silence."
He leaned slightly toward him.
"You are not alone. You never were."
Elior stayed still. His lips trembled as if he wanted to answer, but he couldn't.
"When you can't go on, say it. When you feel yourself falling… look at us. At me. At Hina. At the children. You have us, Elior. And you always will."
The boy swallowed hard. His eyes shone with restrained emotion.
"Thank you, Kael…"
Kael smiled gently.
"You don't need to thank me, son. Your parents must be proud, seeing the man you've become."
Elior looked at him, stunned. That word pierced him more deeply than any blow.
Kael stood up, ruffling his hair like he used to when Elior was small.
"Now go wash up. If you don't, Hina will bury you alive in soap and scolding."
Elior chuckled softly, wiping some sweat from his forehead.
"Yeah… I'm going."
By late afternoon, the station was quiet, with only a few people waiting for the evening train. The sun slowly sank, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves of nearby trees, and the air felt warm, yet nostalgic.
Kael stood beside Elior and Hina, with Lia and Aramis, who couldn't hide their sad faces knowing they were returning to the city.
"I'll be back in two weeks, I promise," Elior said, crouching in front of the children.
"Exactly two weeks?" Aramis asked seriously.
"Exactly. But only if you behave and listen to Kael," he replied with a knowing smile.
"I swear!" Lia shouted, raising her hand.
"Me too!" Aramis said—though with noticeably less conviction.
Kael placed a hand on Elior's shoulder.
"Take care… And remember: everything you train here, take it into your mind as well. Not everything is won with fists."
"I know, Uncle Kael… Thank you for everything," Elior said, his gaze filled with gratitude.
Hina hugged Lia and Aramis tightly, kissing them on the forehead as they wrapped their arms around her.
"See you soon, guys. I love you so much."
The train arrived. With a whistle and a burst of steam, the doors slid open.
"Don't forget about us!" Aramis shouted as he watched them board.
"Never!" Elior replied from the train doorway.
The doors closed, and the train began to move slowly. From the window, Hina waved her hand. Kael watched her with a faint smile, and just before the train turned away, Elior gave the children one last sharp military salute, making Lia burst into laughter.
The train pulled farther away, taking the peace of the village with it. What awaited them in the city was different… and far darker.
Inside the carriage, everything was quiet. A few passengers dozed off, while soft lights and the steady rhythm of the train created a calm atmosphere. Elior and Hina sat side by side, gazing out the window. The countryside rushed past, reflected in their eyes with a different kind of calm.
"You know?" Hina said. "I'll miss waking up late with breakfast already made and a teasing note."
Elior laughed.
"I only do that in the village. In the city, you'll have to do it yourself."
"That's so unfair!" she exclaimed, pretending to be offended.
"Life is," he joked, shrugging.
They stayed silent for a few seconds until Hina looked at him seriously.
"Elior…"
"Yeah?"
"I want you to teach me how to fight."
Elior looked at her in surprise.
"What?"
"I'm serious. I don't want to just watch from afar. I want to help. And I don't want to ever leave you alone."
Elior let out a deep sigh.
"No. You're crazy. Don't even think about it."
Hina stared at him with a perfect poker face.
"...I'm kidding," Elior said, laughing. "Of course I'll teach you if that's what you want. But… only self-defense. Nothing more."
"I want to learn everything," she insisted. "The same as you. I won't leave you alone in this."
Elior looked at her tenderly, then lowered his gaze.
"It's hard. Long. And… dangerous. But if that's what you want… we start with meditation. Then we'll see about the rest."
"Perfect," she said with a triumphant smile.
The carriage slowly darkened as the train passed between hills. She rested her head on Elior's shoulder.
"I'm happy I went to the village with you," she whispered, eyes closed.
Elior rested his head gently against hers, relaxed.
"Me too, Hina…"
They stayed that way, in silence. The train continued beneath a star-filled sky, and little by little, they fell asleep together—as if the world had finally given them a moment to breathe.
After three hours of travel, the train finally stopped with a soft screech. The doors opened, letting the few remaining passengers step out. Elior and Hina descended calmly, wrapped in the warm, dense air typical of urban nights. Neon lights and old streetlamps bathed the streets in a dim glow.
As they walked along the sidewalk, Elior noticed Hina stop in front of a small, brightly lit shop. Her eyes sparkled as she stared at a display of glazed donuts.
"Chocolate?" Elior asked with a mischievous smile.
Without taking her eyes off the glass, Hina nodded slightly, as if hypnotized.
"Wait here," he said.
He entered the shop and returned seconds later with two large chocolate donuts, carefully wrapped.
"Thanks for coming to the village with me… and for everything," he said, offering the package.
"Keep your thanks and give me the donut!" she replied happily, already devouring it.
Elior laughed, and together they continued walking through the quiet city streets.
When they arrived, Hina's parents were already waiting at the door. Her mother looked at her affectionately, but couldn't help laughing at her daughter's chocolate-smeared face.
"Thank you for letting Hina come with me," Elior said, giving a slight bow.
"You don't need to thank us, Elior," her father replied. "We trust you completely."
"And thank you for taking care of her… and feeding her," her mother added teasingly, eyeing her daughter's face.
Elior glanced at Hina, who still had glaze on her lips. They both burst into soft laughter.
"Well then, have a wonderful night. I'm going to get some rest," Elior said respectfully.
"Don't you want me to drive you home, son?" Hina's father asked.
"Thanks, but I'd rather walk. It's a perfect night for it—and I've been sitting for hours," he replied with a soft laugh.
He said goodbye to her parents and turned to Hina.
"Should I come by tomorrow so we can go to school together?"
"Sure," she replied, wiping her mouth. "And thanks for the donuts!"
Elior nodded and said goodbye with a slight bow.
When he arrived home, the door opened with a subtle sound. Everything was completely silent. The lights were off, except for a small lamp in the kitchen.
Elior left his backpack and suitcase near the sofa. He walked toward the bathroom, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. When he turned on the light, the mirror revealed his torso covered in bruises, scratches, and cuts—some still red from the recent battle.
He removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm water fell over his body like a gentle touch, and he stayed there for a long time with his eyes closed.
Afterward, he dried his hair slowly, put on comfortable clothes, prepared a cup of black coffee, and sat at his desk.
On the table lay an ancient book with worn covers, bearing the symbol of a wing crossed with a spear. He opened it carefully and began reading about celestial hierarchies, rituals, blood fragments, and the seals used by angels and demons.
"I have to understand it… all of it… before it consumes me," he murmured.
If the darkness was going to awaken within me… then I had to awaken first.
After an hour, he closed the book, prepared his uniform for the next day, and went to his room. He turned off the light. The city hummed faintly in the distance. But in his room, only silence reigned.
He slept deeply.
That night, he rested in silence… unaware that the true noise had already begun to stir in the shadows—and that his vision was watching him far sooner than he imagined.