The Sky was void of stars.
No moon. No wind. No guiding light. Only the rhythm of footsteps pressing into the dirt path, the crunch of twigs breaking underfoot, and the occasional rustle of trees swaying ever so slightly.
Raizen walked ahead, cloak brushing his calves, his grip on the sheathed sword tight as if expecting a threat to leap from the shadows. Behind him, Marvin kept close, smaller steps struggling to match the older boy's pace. He didn't complain. Not once.
Raizen glanced back once. Marvin's face was pale, but determined. He was scared—any fool could see that—but he walked anyway.
They passed into the thicker brush of the forest, where even sound dared not intrude. The silence was unnatural, almost sacred. No owls. No wolves. Just the cold weight of night and the trees standing like silent judges.
Raizen crouched near a fallen log and motioned for Marvin to come close. The boy did.
"We rest here. Ten minutes. No more."
Marvin nodded, slumping down. He clutched the side pouch Raizen had packed for him earlier—bread, dried meat, a small pendant from Lira, and a hastily folded note. He hadn't opened the note yet. Didn't dare.
Raizen didn't sit. He stood with his back to a tree, eyes scanning the dark horizon.
"How much further?" Marvin finally whispered.
"Half a night more. We'll reach the outskirts of Hevar before dawn if we keep pace."
Marvin looked down, fingers tightening around the pouch. "…You'll come with me till the door, right?"
Raizen didn't answer immediately.
"I'll make sure you get inside."
And then?
The boy didn't ask. Maybe he didn't want to know.
---
Inside Helios Manor, Rossain walked slowly through the grand hallway of the ancestral wing. The corridor was lined with portraits—dozens of them—each frame containing the stoic face of a Helios patriarch. Stern brows, gilded coats, sun-engraved medallions. Eyes that watched. Judged.
Rossain's fingertips brushed lightly along the golden rims of each painting, trailing them with a strange reverence.
"Just a while longer…" he murmured.
His eyes were oddly soft, the kind of gaze meant for memories, not ambition.
"…and everything here will be mine."
His hand dropped. He kept walking.
---
Down in the basement, past the chained doors and forgotten stairways, Ricardo and Lira sat slumped against the stone wall of their cell. The dungeon was worn, unused for decades. Moss grew along cracks. The iron bars were rusted. Even the torchlight struggled to burn steady.
Ricardo's voice broke the stillness.
"Do you not regret leaving… when we still had the choice?"
Lira didn't answer at first. Her eyes were red, rimmed with exhaustion. Her hand was wrapped tightly in his.
When she finally spoke, her voice cracked.
"No… I don't… Raizen wouldn't have anyone left."
Ricardo looked at her. Something flickered across his expression—pain, betrayal, perhaps something heavier.
"…Raizen." He repeated, almost bitterly. "Is that kid more important to you than your own?"
His shoulders trembled.
"Will Marvin not resent us for that decision?" he said, his voice sharp and quiet. "Will he not hate us—for staying here to die?"
Tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn't bother to hide them.
Lira sobbed once, covering her mouth.
"Of course I don't want to leave Marvin on his own! If I could, I'd have already taken him and left!"
She shook her head violently.
"But they'll have him executed… alongside us. He's a child, Ricardo. A child."
She crumbled beside him, shoulders shaking.
"I need to believe that Raizen will get him there safe."
Ricardo didn't respond. He looked away.
From somewhere deep in the Manor's bones, a dull thrum echoed—the Shard pulsing beneath the east wing once more.
---
Back in the forest, Raizen and Marvin had resumed walking. The silence continued to haunt them.
Every now and then, Marvin would look up, hoping for a single star. Anything. But the sky refused.
After some time, they reached a narrow stream. Raizen knelt, cupped water in his hand, and drank silently. Marvin hesitated before doing the same. It was ice cold, stinging his throat.
As they walked again, Marvin asked softly, "Did… did Lira say anything before we left?"
Raizen kept walking, eyes forward.
"She asked me to keep you safe."
"Oh."
"And… to give you this when we're close."
He handed Marvin a folded piece of parchment. Marvin held it like it was gold. He didn't open it. Not yet.
Raizen sighed. "She also asked me not to die doing it."
The boy looked up. "Will you?"
Raizen smiled faintly. "I'm trying not to."
---
The path became steeper. Roots jutted from the ground like skeletal fingers. Fog began to settle, low and thick. Raizen adjusted his cloak around Marvin's shoulders, not saying a word. The boy didn't resist.
A shadow passed overhead. Not a bird.
Raizen's hand flew to his sword, body dropping low in an instant.
Marvin followed, crawling into a bush nearby.
They waited.
Silence.
Then a faint breeze returned. Raizen exhaled. "Just wind."
They rose and kept going.
---
Hours passed. They didn't speak much. Only when necessary.
Marvin started dragging his feet. He tripped once. Raizen caught him by the arm, gently.
"We're almost there," he said. "Just one more ridge."
"I'm okay," Marvin muttered.
Raizen paused.
"Your parents love you. Even if they stayed behind… they chose to keep you alive."
"I know," Marvin said.
"But?"
"…It still hurts."
Raizen nodded slowly. "Good. That means you haven't turned into someone like me."
---
Eventually, the trees parted.
From the ridge above, Raizen pointed out the distant lights of Hevar—dim, flickering torches from a town not yet awake.
"There," he said.
Marvin looked at it as if it were a dream. His lips trembled.
"Come. We're going to the northern lane. That's where your aunt lives."
They descended.
---
In the final stretch, Raizen felt a tightness in his chest. It wasn't exhaustion.
They reached the edge of the town. Raizen led Marvin through alleys and side paths until they reached a narrow stone house tucked beside a larger villa. A wooden sign hung crooked over the door—Aromas & Oils.
Raizen knocked twice.
No answer.
Then he knocked again—three times, sharply.
Light stirred behind the curtains.
A woman with a shawl around her shoulders opened the door, eyes wary.
Her expression softened the moment she saw Marvin.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
Raizen gently pushed the boy forward.
"His name is Marvin. Lira said you'd take him."
The woman, eyes already brimming with tears, pulled Marvin into a tight embrace.
"I will. I will."
Raizen stood a moment longer, then turned to leave.
"Wait," Marvin said, grabbing his sleeve.
Raizen stopped.
Marvin didn't say anything at first. Then he reached into his pocket and offered the folded letter.
Raizen hesitated, but took it.
"Goodbye," Marvin said.
Raizen crouched and hugged the boy once, firm and brief.
"Be strong."
He left before he could be stopped again.
---
Raizen walked until the town lights were behind him.
Only then did he open the letter.
It was Lira's handwriting.
"Raizen. If you're reading this, then you kept your word. Thank you. I don't know where we'll be tomorrow. I don't even know if I'll have time to say goodbye properly. But I want you to know this: You are not what they say you are. Not a bastard. Not a curse. You were the light in our darkness. Even if the world forgets your name, I won't."
He stopped reading.
Folded the letter.
Looked up at the night sky, still starless.
But somehow… a breeze passed. Warmer this time.
He walked on, In darkness.
And somewhere deep in the forest, beneath roots and soil and memory,
the Shard pulsed again.
Not in anger. Not in warning.
But as if acknowledging something.
A choice.
A shift.
A step forward.