Achlys returned home under the waning light of dusk, his steps heavy and slow, his frame bent beneath the invisible weight of grief. The red rims of his eyes and the deep shadows beneath them told the story of countless sleepless nights—nights spent haunted by visions of Tiabishi lying broken and unconscious, nights where his mind was a battlefield of regrets.
"What should I do..." he whispered to no one, the words trembling like dying embers in his throat.
The door creaked open. Mariola, his mother, stood in the hallway, her figure bathed in the soft golden hue of oil lamps. Her smile was gentle but trembling at the edges, a mask for the storm of worry behind her eyes.
"It was a rough day, wasn't it, Achlys?"
Achlys didn't answer. He simply walked forward and fell into her embrace like a weary traveler finding shelter after a storm. He clung to her as if she were the last steady thing in a crumbling world.
"Mom...? What should I do... I... I don't know what to do..." His voice cracked, falling into silence between trembling breaths.
Mariola didn't speak immediately. She ran her fingers through his hair, calming him, grounding him. "Just breathe, my sweet boy. Everything will be alright. Tia will wake up. I know she will."
The lull of her voice, the warmth of her arms—it was all too much. Achlys gave in to his exhaustion, his tears soaking into her shoulder. When he finally succumbed to sleep, she carried him like she had when he was small, laying him gently on his bed. She stayed beside him, holding his hand, her tears now joining his.
"Stay strong, my son... I'm here. Always."
Outside, the twin moons crept over the edge of the world. Their pale light spilled through the window, brushing Achlys's cheek. The light of Surya and Ra faded into the horizon. For a moment, the mark on his skin shimmered with a gentle green, pulsing like a quiet heartbeat.
The morning had not yet come when Achlys awoke. The house was silent except for the soft breath of his mother sleeping beside the bed. He sat up slowly, brushing her hair back from her face. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears.
But his gaze was different now. Still weary, yes—but resolute.
"I have to do this. I have to get stronger. I'll find my own way."
He moved carefully, packing what he needed—food, water, spare clothes, and the sword that had become an extension of him. He knelt beside Mariola one last time, his arms wrapping around her gently.
"I love you... Mother."
As he opened the door to leave, her voice called out, soft but clear. "Achlys, I love you, son!"
He turned to look at her one last time. A tear slid down his cheek, but he smiled and waved, and then he ran—his feet propelled by determination and a skill: Dash.
The wilderness opened its arms to him. Familiar trees passed by in a blur until he reached the field where he had trained for so many years. He stood still for a moment, letting memories wash over him—the clang of swords, laughter shared with Tia, the voice of Saria barking commands.
He rolled up his tent, secured it to his pack, and looked out toward the distant mountains.
"I'll see you again, friend," he whispered to the city behind him.
Rain greeted him like an old foe. It started as a whisper, then grew into a torrential monsoon. Water streamed down his cloak, and seeped into his boots. Thunder growled in the distance. But Achlys pressed forward, his eyes set on the silhouette of something glowing faintly in the distance.
"A house...?" he murmured.
The closer he got, the brighter the light seemed, until the outline of a modest wooden house took shape through the curtain of rain. He stepped onto the porch and pushed open the door.
"Who's there?!" a deep voice echoed from within, followed by the uneven thump of mismatched footsteps.
A giant shadow emerged from the hall. A scar cleaved across his chest, and one of his legs was clearly made of metal. The air around him was thick with strength and suffering.
"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!"
Achlys flinched but stood his ground. "I... saw the light. It looked safe. I had nowhere else to go."
The man scrutinized him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Why the bag, boy?"
Achlys hesitated, then let the truth fall like stones from his lips. "I ran... My friend—she's in the healing center. I thought if I'd been stronger... maybe she wouldn't be there."
The man's expression softened. "You ran, not because you're weak. But because you care. Because you blame yourself. That kind of guilt... it's heavy."
Achlys nodded. "That's... true."
"You can stay," the man said. "Until you're ready."
Achlys opened his mouth to thank him, but the fatigue overtook him like a tidal wave. He collapsed, and the man caught him before he hit the floor.
"You've got a long way to go, boy," he murmured, carrying Achlys to the couch. "But you'll get there."
The scent of cooking roused the old man from sleep. He sat up, alarmed to find the couch empty. But then the sounds from the kitchen reassured him.
"Hey, boy! What's your name?"
"Achlys," came the reply with a smile. "What's yours, sir?"
The man chuckled. "Haven't heard that question in eighteen years. Akatsuki August IV."
Achlys's eyes widened. "The lost king of Loipetras... I've heard that name."
Akatsuki nodded, the smile fading from his face. "Yes. That was me."
"Then why didn't you return?!" Achlys suddenly stepped forward, grabbing the old king's collar. "The people need you!"
"I was imprisoned by Reteos. Tortured. Forgotten. It changed me. I... lost faith. In people. In myself."
Achlys released him, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry."
Moments passed in silence until Achlys muttered, "I burned the food."
Akatsuki sighed and walked into the kitchen—only to find the dish perfectly prepared. He turned with a glare.
"You lied."
Achlys grinned. "I wanted to see if you'd still care enough to check. Like you did twenty-two years ago. When you saved Loipetras. Your people still need you."
Akatsuki stared at the boy, the fire rekindling in his eyes. "For a kid... you've got the wisdom of a sage."
He tousled Achlys's hair and turned away.
"Where's your bag? Sword?"
Achlys nodded toward the hallway. Akatsuki retrieved the wooden blade, inspecting it.
"Excellent craftsmanship."
"It was my father's," Achlys said. "He died before I was born. My mother gave it to me."
Akatsuki turned, a decision made. "After breakfast, I'll train you."
Achlys shook his head. "Thank you. But I must walk my own path."
Akatsuki nodded. "Very well, but I'll have to leave this place. I was going to stay to train you but you since do not need my training, I'll just move on."
Achlys turned his head scratching his cheek, "But isn't this your house, sir?"
"It is, but I can not stay in one place, I change it every six months."
Achlys still not getting his point continued to ask. "Why, sir?"
"Because I want to be a free man. I hate to bound myself to one place."
Finally understanding his words, Achlys nodded. "I see"
"Then take care of this place. It matters to me."
"I promise."
They shook hands—firm, respectful.
Outside, Akatsuki paused one last time.
"Thank you... for keeping me safe." Achlys watched from the window. "Thank you... for giving me hope."
Back in the city, Mariola opened her door to a knocking.
"Saria? What's wrong?"
"He's gone," Saria said. "I looked everywhere."
Mariola sighed. "He ran away. He blames himself for Tiabishi's pain."
Saria's eyes welled up. "I failed him."
Mariola slapped her. Her emotions were not mere sadness, it was deep, her worry and anger merged into one.
"No! You protected them. You kept them alive. Never forget that."
Saria bowed deeply. "I swear—I will make them both strong."
Mariola smiled. "Come in. Let's talk."
They drank tea and talked until laughter returned to the room.
In the mountains, steel clashed.
Achlys faced a skeleton warrior in battle. Blow after blow, he struck true. He finished it with one final slash, then whispered:
"Rest well, warrior."
He took the skeleton's blade—light, sharp. As he continued, he heard a scream.
He found a blue phoenix being tormented by orcs. Without hesitation, he charged.
The orc king fell with a single blow.
"Leave now," he warned.
One charged. Its head hit the ground seconds later. The rest fled.
Achlys collapsed, panting. With his will and left strength, he made his way to the hurt phoenix. It shrank back in fear.
"Easy. I won't hurt you."
His finger froze at a touch. " Wow. A Cryophoenix...?"
He grabbed his bag and offered food. But it refused. So, leaving him no choice, he picked it up.
"You're coming with me. I'll help you."
It struggled but he held on. He returned to the house, where the phoenix hid under the couch.
Achlys slumped down beside it.
"I'm tired..."
And then he slept, while the creature watched—finally safe.