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Continue
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"Yes. Go for it, atta boy," one of the older knights chuckled, giving him a clap on the shoulder as Varun passed.
Varun didn't break. He stopped beside table and sat on a chair.
"If you're sending scouts," Varun spoke up, his voice calm but carrying weight, "Our move is active and be patient. No heavy armor, no drawn attention. They ride out before dawn hits the trees, take the back paths near the ridge. Less chance of being spotted, more cover if they need to double back."
Galen gave a small, approving nod. "Exactly what I was thinking."
"I'll go, then." Varun added without hesitation.
A few of the men gave low whistles, one muttering, "There's the old wolf again."
Galen didn't hesitate either. "Good. Take Ellis with you. He knows those trails."
"Sure," Varun replied.
Out in the courtyard, Galen looked his men over one last time.
"This ain't just some border raid, lads. This is war. And war against the dark that takes more than swords. It takes heart. You leave your fear behind tonight - or you won't stand at all."
The knights stiffened and the impact of those words lingered.
"Get some rest. First day - we move."
"Yes, Commander!"
The group began breaking off toward the barracks, a couple giving Varun a nod and a clap on the back as they passed.
"Good to have you with us, wolf man," one of them teased.
Varun just smirked.
The fire burned lower, the air colder.
Galen stayed a while longer, staring into the embers. "I've seen this before," he muttered, almost like a curse. "But this one feels worse."
As the knights started breaking off in pairs, going to the basement to sleep, Varun didn't leave. Instead, he grabbed a rolled-up map from the side table near the firepit and slapped it down over the stone slab they used as a makeshift table. The other knights noticed and drifted back in, curious.
"Hold on," Varun called out, voice steady. "Before you soldiers go running off to your basement to sleep, we're not done yet."
Galen arched a brow but nodded. "Go on then."
Varun unrolled the map, pinning the corners with a couple of dagger hilts. He pointed to a stretch of dense trees marked in rough ink at the north edge of the map.
"This here," he tapped the spot, "is where we'll send Ellis and me. This ridge runs high - cover's good, trees thick, no open ground 'til you hit the old stream."
A couple of the knights leaned in, muttering to themselves.
"Now here," Varun pointed east, "this patch of clearing near the old hollowed oak. I want two more men stationed there by dusk. No fires, no torches. You're not there to fight - you're bait."
"Bait?" a young knight frowned.
"Yeah, bait," Varun confirmed. "They're always watching us, make no mistake. We make it look like a couple of drunk night guards too dumb to stay by the walls. When whatever's out there comes twitching horribly, you fall back toward the old storage shed here, we're setting some brutal explosive traps tomorrow." he dragged his finger along a narrow path on the map. "That's when Ellis and I will be nearby to see who, or what, takes the bait."
The men exchanged glances.
"And before you ask - no damn hero moves," Varun added with a firm look. "We don't engage. Not yet."
He paused for a second, then let out a small chuckle. "By the way... who remembers the first wave of the old war? I don't remember."
Leonark, a scarred, broad-shouldered knight, leaned on his spear. "Undead warriors," he muttered, his voice low and gritty. "Tons of them. From the old days. Twitching like puppets with some eerie sense about them. We weren't ready for that. We lost half our men before we even figured out what hit us."
A somber hush passed through the group. A few of the younger knights shifted uncomfortably.
"Damn right," Varun nodded. "And we ain't making that mistake again."
Then another knight, Eren, sharp-eyed and quick-tongued, stepped forward. "What if," he started, pointing to the map, "we set up some tricky traps along these false paths you're marking? Like old snare ropes with a blade trigger something, noise triggers with explosives, or even a few deep wooden spike pits if we've time. That way if anything undead comes bumbling through, we hear it. Or better - we take a few of 'em out before they even reach the bait spots."
He gestured toward an area not far from Atlon's outer line. "And we place those tricky traps only along the wrong sign paths, or routes near the old abandoned chapel - not too close to Atlon. Keeps whatever's walking and twitching around away from the kingdom's heart."
The group traded looks, then a few grins spread across tired faces.
"Damn, I like that," Breck muttered. "Smart thinking, Eren."
"Same," Tomas agreed, smirking. "About time we start turning their sneaky moves back on them."
Varun grinned, nodding. "Alright, we'll work that in. Set those traps by tomorrow's nightfall. Tomas, Eren, Kellin, you three handle it for this night. Get what you need from the basement or, no one else needs to know what you're rigging."
"Yes, sir," Eren answered, already eager.
Galen crossed his arms, eyeing them with a ghost of a smile. "Now you're all finally acting like soldiers with brains."
Varun turned back to the map. "Alright - plan stays the same for tomorrow's preparation. Scouts in position. False trails laid. Traps where they won't expect it. No fighting unless it's the only way out. And if we get caught, we lead them away from the battlefield - no risks to Atlon walls. Understood?"
A chorus of "Yes, sir!" followed, the knights fired up now, the weight of dread easing just a little.
Fred, still tucked beyond the doorway's edge, listened in, feeling a grim pride stir in his chest.
'Now that's the Atlon spirit.'
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Varun rolled up the map, a small grin on his face. "Alright, plan's set. Now move your asses before we waste what's left of this night."
At that, Eren let out a wide yawn, stretching his arms over his head. "Damn, I thought this would be quick. I'm half dead over here."
Kellin shot him a sideways smirk. "Eh? You gettin' sleepy on us, Eren? Come on now real knight, remember? Or you wanna trade that sword for a pillow?"
A couple of the other knights snorted, trying to hold back laughs.
"Bite me, then." Eren muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Save that for the undead, lover boy," Breck quipped, nudging him with his elbow.
Even Galen's serious expression cracked a faint smirk as he crossed his arms. "If you soldiers are done playing bedtime jokes, get moving. We don't have much night left."
Varun grinned and pointed toward the barracks. "Get what you need and meet back here after the first traps is set. I want the first traps before dawn, and Ellis, you better be awake before the sunrise, I'm not carrying your half-asleep ass through those woods."
From a corner, Ellis gave a lazy salute. "Aye, aye, boss."
The group broke into low chuckles, the tension of war lifting for a breath before settling back into their bones. Fred, still by the door's edge, cracked a faint, tired smile.
Same old Atlon. Laughing sometimes in the face of hell. But serious as always.
"Again, after two hours of setting traps in our outside border you all knights gonna came back and take some rest - or else something danger will happen outside." Varun called.
Knights nodded in agreement, And with that, the knights scattered - some to gather gear, others started to set the first traps, while the heavy scent of torch smoke and cold night air clung to the courtyard stones.
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Fred stayed leaning by that closed door long after the knights had gone, like it was the only thing keeping him upright. But Fred wasn't listening to them. Not really. His mind was somewhere else. Somewhere darker.
That voice.
That same eerie, heavy voice that haunted him since he was a boy.
"Foolish being... you weren't meant to be born in this world."
He could still remember it - the way the air around him turned thick, like breathing through wet cloth. The shadows back then weren't just dark. They moved. They stared. And in that awful moment, something happened.
The darkness came for him... but it couldn't touch him.
Some kind of strange, invisible shield had pushed it away, the shadow recoiling like it hit a wall. Fred had no idea what it was back then. And honestly, even now, standing here years later, he still didn't. It was something inside him - something born with him, clinging to his blood. He didn't see it, but it was there, standing between him and death.
Life's Aegis.
That's what it had always been.
A gift... or maybe a curse.
And Fred never even noticed.
But the darkness? It didn't waste time. It turned its rage toward the nearest thing - his older brother. Fred remembered the cries from his brother to leave, the way the life drained from his brother's eyes as the shadows vanished him. And Fred just stood there, frozen, too young, too scared to leave, too confused to stop it.
And even now... after all these years... he still asked the same thing.
"Why him... not me?"
The question buried deep in his chest like a stone.
A sharp breath pulled Fred back into the present. The sounds of knights talking, a dog barking somewhere in the yard, the faint crackle of a torch flame. He rubbed a hand down his face, rough and tired.
"What the hell am I even doin'?" he muttered to himself. "Second war's coming. And Aurelia is about to collapse. And I'm standin' here like a useless person."
He glanced down at his hands. Steady. Unrelenting. But there was more to them. Bloodlines. Old ones. Ones people they forgot.
His father had been one of the lost Arcanes - a person born with strange powers that the world didn't much believe in anymore. That kind of power had gone long before kingdoms built their walls. But a few bloodlines carried it still. But Rare. Chosen before birth. And Fred? He'd inherited it.
His sister, Rhea, hadn't. Born too late, his father once said. The old man always claimed the power only landed in the right vessel at the right time. Miss the mark, and you're just another face in the crowd.
Fred's memory flashed to a recollection. Thirteen years old. Back in the fields behind their previous house, his father down on his haunches at eye level, holding his shoulders firmly. The man's voice low, gruff like gravel.
"Listen, boy. Don't tell anybody about what you are. Not your mother. Not your friends. Not even your soul. You keep it buried so deep, even you can't remember it's there. Because if the wrong people get wise. It'll kill you. Or worse."
And then the man squeezed his shoulder again.
"But one day... when the world really starts fallin' apart... you'll know when to stop hidin'. And when you do... burn it bright."
And with that, the memory disappeared.
Fred blinked, standing by that door a thousand miles from where his body was. His jaw was set. He wasn't one of the soldiers like the others. He wasn't some knight running after medals or getting drunk until his head spun. He was something different. Something the darkness had attempted to extinguish once - and not succeeded.
"Perhaps it's time," he whispered. "Perhaps it's time that I stop pretending that I'm normal."
He moved away from the door, the chill night air caressing his skin. His mind was clearer now. The war was coming, and if the shadows believed they could complete what they began years before...
They'd have to battle a man who had finally regained what he was.
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Outside the gates of Atlon, the night wind nipped sharp at their faces. Eren, Tomas, and Kellin crept silently, packs draped over their backs, with ropes and tripwires, oil jugs, explosives, and metal spike traps inside. The torches upon the kingdom walls dimmed behind them, their shadows dancing long and uneven on the earth road.
"Man... it feels different out here," Tomas grumbled, readjusting the strap on his shoulder. "Like the air's... heavier."
"It's the sense of war," Eren smiled, chewing on a slender twig between his teeth. "Undead people crawled ahead for the killing. The old-timers said you could smell death a day before it arrived."
Kellin let out a low whistle. "Always say your prayers, Eren."
They continued walking, along the route Varun had indicated on the map previously. A small path through the underbrush, towards an abandoned watch post that no longer lived a man. Ideal for the initial trap.
"So," Eren said, speaking up as they walked, "any of you lads ever get entangled with one of those high-class noble women from Aurelia?"
Tomas snorted. "You serious?"
"Hey, it could happen. My cousin swore he saw one at the markets last spring. He said she winked at him." Eren laughed a little.
"Your cousin's blind in one eye, Eren." Tomas looked up, smiling.
They laughed, relaxing the nerves somewhat.
Kellin grinned. "I did once. Well, almost. Few years back. Some silk-cloaked thing at a tavern. Bought me a drink, called me 'common-born but handsome.' But it didn't end well though."
"What happened?" Eren asked.
"She had a husband. A warrior." Kellin looked down, attempting not to smile in shame.
"Ooooh," Eren laughed softly. "And you survived?"
"By the pain of my eyes. I had to jump out a window, and lost my opportunity." Kellin chuckled softly.
The three of them chuckled softly, the sound mixing with the chirp of night insects. For an instant, it seemed like any other night - old tales, jokes, the sort of conversation men exchanged before a disaster.
But then the trees closing in upon them, compressed by the air, and a chill occurred.
Eren braked, his smile dissipating. "Okay... here's where it is."
They released their equipment, long blades with triggers hidden in the bushes, explosives rigged with tripwires, and improvised alarm wires fashioned from hammered flat nails and tin cups.
"Get move on," Kellin grumbled, looking toward the woods. "I don't care for this section."
"Not supposed to," Eren said, setting long metal spikes into the hole ground, covering it with net and leaves. "That's the point."
The conversation grew light away. The breeze blew distant noises - a solitary owl, a creaking branch - but it seemed too silent.
Tomas wiped at his sweat. "You think... it's like before? Those undead things?"
Eren bent low "Nah, nah."
Securing a tripwire that tight between two trees close by. The air was heavy, as if it were carrying down on their shoulders.
"You ever think this evil darkness ain't gonna stop?" Eren asked, not raising his head.
Kellin, kneeling several steps off, was filling a small clay jar with dynamites. "Yeah... all the damn time. Feels like no matter how many we kill, more crawlies outta somewhere.
Tomas let out a breath, laying a charge beneath a heap of bush. "It's like brawling with the wind. Like, you can't see it... but you know it's there. Always there."
There was a long silence.
Kellin broke it with a lopsided smile. "Well, at least if we get ourselves killed tomorrow, we don't have to pay our bills."
Eren snorted. "What bills? Only thing you owe is the warrior girl from the tavern with a new chair after you broke it with your fat body last month."
Tomas chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Aye, the kingdom is falling apart and this idiot's still causing chaos in women's."
Kellin smiled. "If you're gonna go, go with a good story then."
The laughter dissipated, but the seriousness in the air remained.
Tomas's voice dropped quieter. "I miss normal nights. Y'know? No swords, no scouts, no maps, and no evil darkness... just sitting by a fire. Listening to old men lie about their glory days."
Eren gave a sad little grin. "I'd trade every blade I've held for one more night like that."
Kellin finished setting his charge, wiping his hands on his tunic. "One day. When this is over."
Tomas glanced down, fingers brushing the necklace at his chest. The others noticed, but didn't press it.
After a beat, Eren clapped him on the back. "Hey... we're making sure those things don't get anywhere near here. For them. And for her. Understood?"
Tomas gave a small nod. "Yeah..... Understood."
Eren yawned, clapping him on the back. "Good to hear."
Kellin grinned. "Done. Now get moving. If you two get me killed tonight, I'm haunting your soul friend."
Kellin went on before him, walking steadily. Eren paced behind him not very far. But Tomas... Tomas walked a bit slower.
His gaze rested on those windows in the distant village, the dim lights within, the serenity it emits. It tightened his chest. As if something was gripping his heart. And before he even noticed, he released his necklace with his family photo on it. A lovely family photo before his mother died.
Tomas sighed. "She would have adored this," he breathed to himself.
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(Flashback)
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The sun was low in the afternoon sky, and a soft, golden light fell across the fields beyond the village. A soft breeze through the tall grass and the sweet fragrance of wildflowers. Tomas, only ten years old, playing in the open meadow, his laughter clear and unencumbered, arms outspread like wings.
"Bet you can't catch me, Lira!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Oh, you little, come back here!" Lira laughed, running after him. She was sixteen at the time, lean and energetic, with light brown hair pulled back loosely and a energetic in her eyes that Tomas vowed made even the sun pale.
Their father watched nearby with a soft grin, leaning against a tree, his arms crossed. "You two best be careful, or you'll scare the birds clear to the next kingdom," he called.
"Let them fly!" Tomas yelled without stopping.
Lira managed to catch him a moment later, tackling him into the tall grass. They both fell down laughing, blades of grass sticking in their hair.
"I win," Lira smiled, sitting up and sweeping her hair aside.
"No way," Tomas puffed, catching his breath, "you're taller. And you cheat."
"I do not cheat," she playfully prodded his cheek, smiling, "you're just slow."
Tomas stuck his tongue out. "I'm still quicker than you were if you are ten years old."
"Pfft. Says you."
She mussed his hair harshly, making him wriggle. "You know why I caught you though?"
"Why?" His brow furrowed.
"Cause it's your birthday, silly," she whispered softly, her voice turning tender all of a sudden. "And I've got to be the first one to catch you, so I can give you your surprise."
Tomas blinked. "A surprise?"
"Yep. C'mon."
She took his hand and dragged him upright. "Dad! We're going down to the river now!" she yelled.
Their father waved them away with a grin. "Okay, just don't get lost with your little brother."
As they walked through the fields, Tomas turned to her. "You didn't need to get me anything, y'know."
"I didn't need to," she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, "but I wanted to. You're my little brother. And you always watch out for me too, don't think I don't see."
Tomas grinned awkwardly. "You're my sister. I'd fight a hundred wolves for you."
Lira chuckled. "A hundred? Strong words for a child who screams when a little spider crawls by you."
"I don't!" Tomas puffed, his cheeks flushing.
As they arrived at the river, the sun glinted off the water like a spilled silver coins, moving with every small blow of wind across the ripples. The river's current was low ideal for the day and the soothing music of flowing water combined with the soft buzzing of crickets camouflaged in the grass. A mother duck swam effortlessly by, her fluffy ducklings following behind in a tidy little procession, their little heads bouncing with every stroke.
Tomas' eyes opened in amazement. "Look at that, Lira! Baby ducks!"
"Shh," Lira smiled. "You'll frighten them if you yell too loud."
A couple of mischievous river otters wrestled around the rocks, splashing and rolling over one another like balls of fur. One of them poked its head up and looked directly at Tomas before diving under again with a sudden flip of its tail.
But it wasn't only otters and ducks. Brilliant blue and orange dragonflies swooped across the surface of the water, their wings shining like minute glass windows. A small school of brightly colored fish darted through the river, breaking apart whenever a shadow swept overhead.
A little further along the riverbank, a young deer hesitantly emerged from the trees to drink, its ears twitching with every noise. Two rabbits hopped nearby, their white fluffy tails wiggling in the grass as they munched on clover.
"Lira... it's like an entire secret world out here," Tomas breathed, his voice full of wonder.
She grinned, sitting on a smooth flat rock. "I said so. This is where I come to forget something awful."
A brightly colored butterfly perched on Tomas' shoulder for a moment before flying away. He chuckled. "Did you see that?! I'm magic now."
"Guess you're the animal king today," Lira teased, skipping a pebble into the water with a soft splash.
Small green frogs croaked somewhere in the distance, and a group of silver beetles crawled industriously over a moss-covered log. Even the trees swayed softly in the breeze as if they were eager to participate in the serene affair by the water.
"I wish we could stay here forever," Tomas said, reclining in the grass, gazing at the clouds passing overhead.
Lira leaned down, sweeping his hair off of his forehead. "Me too, little brother."
They didn't say anything else for a while - only allowing the gentle, living world surrounding them to speak. A moment so perfect, so innocent, it seemed like the type you never know you'll miss until it's lost.
As Tomas rested there staring at the clouds, he caught a whiff of something familiar - something sweet. His nose twitched.
"Wait... is that...?" He sat up quick, looking towards Lira, who was attempting not to grin too big.
She pulled out a neatly wrapped piece of cloth from the small basket she'd carried with her and sat up straight. "Happy birthday, silly brother," she smiled, unwrapping it slowly.
Inside was Tomas' favorite - fried rice balls covered with herbs, warm, with pieces of fried fish and warm onions. And sandwiches. She knew he favored them above all things.
"No way... you made these?" Tomas' eyes twinkled.
"Mhm, I did," Lira replied self-satisfied, tilting her chin up. "And guess what else - I joined the cooking contest in the village square last week... and I won. And the prize money I have, I used to buy ingredients in the market."
Tomas' jaw fell. "You... really?!"
"Yup. First prize," she smiled, feigning dusting her shoulder off. "Even Old Man Duric told me that mine was more delicious than his wife's stew. And you know how much everyone fears her."
Tomas chuckled, the kind of chuckle that gave him a little stomachache. "I told you you're the best cook ever, just like mother. Nobody cooks like my big sister."
She passed him a rice ball, and he took a bite as if it were the world's greatest thing. "See? It's perfect."
They sat by the river for hours after that. Skipping stones, playing at catching dragonflies, discussing ridiculous things - such as what would happen if ducks controlled the kingdom or if otters could speak. Lira teased Tomas about being in love with the baker's daughter, and he flushed so red she almost fell on the ground laughing.
As the sun started to set low, coloring the sky pink and orange, their father's voice rang out from the trees.
"There you two are."
They moved in his direction and saw their father named Robert - a tall man with sleepy eyes but a good face. He wore simple clothes, his hands worn from labor, but he smiled in a way that made everything right.
"Hey, Dad!" Tomas yelled, running to him.
His father mussed his hair, then swept Lira into a one-armed hug. "I see you two made a proper day of it."
"We had to," Lira smiled. "It's his birthday, after all.
The three of them sat on the riverbank side by side, munching the remaining rice balls and sandwiches. Their father pulled out a bottle of fruit juice and poured a small amount into the river, allowing it to flow away with the current.
"For your mother," he murmured.
The atmosphere relaxed. The air was thicker, but not unpleasantly so - as if something holy were passing through them.
Tomas lowered his head. "Oh..... yeah. I miss her."
"I know, son," their dad replied gruffly. "She would've enjoyed seeing you today like this."
They clasped hands, the three of them, heads bent. Lira's eyes were shining in the dying light.
"Well... Happy birthday, little brother, you're now eleven years old right?" she breathed. "Mama's watching us, I just know it."
"Yeah.... But do you think she's proud of us?" Tomas asked in a soft voice.
"I know she is," their father answered, squeezing gently his shoulder. "And someday, when it's our time, we'll see her again."
They stayed like that a little while longer - a family of three in a world that felt too big without the fourth. And though sadness clung to the edges of their hearts, there was warmth too, in the simple way they still had each other.
The river continued flowing, the stars emerging little by little, and for that one sunset, the world was complete.
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Time passed
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As the stars twinkled across the sky, the river glimmered in their light. Fireflies flickered slowly over the grass, their small lights hovering like slow stars.
Tomas reclined on his back next to the fire, his head in Lira's lap as she sang a gentle song their mother used to sing. Their father sat close by, whittling a small wooden figurine for Tomas - a tiny horse, its legs a little crooked, but perfect nonetheless.
"I wish days like this never ended," Tomas muttered, his eyes fixed on the stars.
Lira smiled gently, smoothing a piece of hair from his forehead. "They don't, not really. You just have to remember them really good. And keep them close in here." She touched his chest with her finger. "Even when they're gone."
"I'll remember everything," Tomas vowed, his voice hardly above a whisper.
Their father glanced up from his whittling, giving them both a weary, proud smile. "Your mother would've loved this day."
They sat a while longer, talking about what kind of knight Tomas would be when he grew up. His father swore he'd build a house by the river, right where they sat, so they could come back every year for his birthday. Lira teased that by then, she'd be married to some handsome fisherman and too busy gutting trout to visit him.
"No way," Tomas grinned. "You're stayin' here. Forever."
She smiled back. "Deal."
As it was finally time to head home, they packed their stuff up and walked under the silence of the night sky. Tomas had the small wooden horse in his pocket, his fingers wrapped around it as if it were treasure.
When they arrived at their home, the windows glowed with warm yellow light. It wasn't a lot, but it was their house.
The three of them kneeled at the old altar shelf in the corner before going to bed, where their mother's favorite flowers stood now dried in a simple jar. They prayed together and gave thanks to the heavens for that day and for each other and for the memories they had gained.
Tomas fell asleep that night with a happy heart, and the warmth of his sister's laughter still lingers in his ears.
He'd always remember - years later - how that was the best day of his life. The one perfect memory he wished he could climb back into and never leave.
Before the accident happened.
Before everything changed.
But for now... it was just a boy, his sister, and his father, wrapped in the kind of happiness that you don't realize is rare until it's gone.
And the stars continued to shine, as they had always done.
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(Back to present)
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The memory stuck to Tomas's heart as the three arrived at Atlon's gates. Cozy lights glow in the village windows. Voices murmuring somewhere far away.
Tomas spoke softly to the night, a old promise and got away.
"I'm still tryin', Sis... I'm still keeping your promise."
Eren saw him sorta upset. "Hey? Is somethin' wrong buddy?"
Tomas swiped at his eye and managed a crooked grin. "Nah. it's. nothing."
Eren didn't turn over, just nodded and continued walking.
The trio's footsteps echoed down the empty road, faraway lights bobbing softly through the dark. Some are dim, already slept in the midnight.
And somewhere behind Tomas's heart, the voices of the past followed, quiet as a breath.
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After walking what seemed like an eternity, the three returned at last. The castle gates loomed before them, imposing and unmoving beneath the weak moonlight. They walked across the gravel path, their boots crunching on the tiny stones. They appeared tired on their feet, particularly Eren, who yawned for what seemed like minutes and rubbed his eyes.
Kellin shoved the heavy gate wide, the iron screeching loud in the still night. Two Spear Guards waited, holding their long spears upright, and they shared a lazy grin.
"Done at last, lads," one of the guards, giving a salute.
Varun, welcomed. "Commander said you guys can get some rest now."
"Yeah... sure... we did it," Kellin said with a tired smile and a lazy salute, the weariness evident on his face.
Eren sighed, leaning a little on Tomas. "I swear... I'm gonna drop right here."
But Tomas didn't really react. He gave a small smile, barely lifting his hand for a quick salute, then kept walking, head down, his mind somewhere else.
The three traveled around the castle towards the backyard, where a wooden door stood waiting, going down to the basement. A chill wind swept by them. The backyard was still, except for the crickets and distant howls of wolves in the forest.
Tomas slipped open the door to the basement. Inside, the air reeked of wood and stone. They entered the spacious room where several of the other knights were already asleep - some in their loose trousers and shirts, others loudly snoring, a few muttering prayers by the faint light of the candles.
A nearby soldier wearing loose trousers, already half-asleep, yelled out in a low tone, "You guys look like death warmed over. Get some rest, you deserve it."
"Yeah... you bet," Eren muttered, half-grinning, shuffling his feet to his bunk.
Kellin made his way to his small cabinet, pulling off his heavy platinum armor piece by piece with tired grunts, then grabbed a simple tunic and loose pants for sleeping. "I'm takin' a leak first," he muttered, disappearing toward the comfort room.
Tomas did the same, but more slowly. Something heavy pressed in his chest, as though a knot he could not loosen. Despite the exhaustion, the old memories would not leave him alone this evening.
He picked up a toothbrush and toothpaste and staggered to the cracked mirror that hung over the washbasin. While he began brushing his teeth, his eyes darted up - and for a fleeting moment, in the mirror, he saw it.
His sister.
Lira's white face, her dead eyes wide open, her body there motionless as if stuck in time. And the space around her - this churning, dark cloud, seeping through her, into her very soul. It clung around her like heavy smoke. And then...
A voice.
"Don't... go... near anyone..." it said, so near his ear it made his skin creep.
Tomas dropped his toothbrush on the counter with a clatter, his breathing ragged and panicked. His heart pounded within his chest. He gripped the rim of the sink, gazing fixedly at his own reflection, his face sweaty and pale.
"Get it together," he muttered to himself, attempting to shake it off.
He splashed cold water on his face, took his towel, and struggled into a speedy bath. But however much water cascaded over him, that sensation lingered. Like someone was lurking.
By the time he redressed, it was already 3 a.m. The night was so still, deathly silent. The only noise was the distant crackle of the torches on the walls outside. The castle seemed to be colder than ever, as if even the air did not want to budge.
Tomas knelt on the floor beside his bunk, his hands gripped together, fingers shaking slightly. The room was dim, the gentle snore of the other knights hanging over the stillness.
He drew in a shaky breath, and whispered in a soft voice the heavens alone could hear.
"Ma... Lira... if you're up there... I hope it's quiet where you are. I hope you ain't hurt no more. I hope you're smilin'."
He swallowed painfully, his throat constricting with a tight knot.
"I miss you both so bad. Every single day. Some days I wake up and I swear I hear your laugh, Lira. I swear I can smell your cookin' again, Ma. But it's just me... just a fool wishin'."
He rubbed his chest with one hand, as if to soothe the pressure that lay there.
"I dunno if you're listenin'. I dunno how heaven works. But if you can... please god, keep an eye on me, help me find my father. He ain't the same since they both left. Neither am I."
His voice broke. And take more serious.
"I ain't asking for much from the god... just a little strength. Help me carry and protect me god, guide my path. Cause some days, it's heavy as danger."
He remained there a little longer, the quiet embracing him. Then, in a softer, gulping whisper:
"Thank you god for this whole day, protecting me. I ain't never gonna forget my family. Not ever."
He finally opened his eyes, rubbed his face with the sleeve of his tunic, and went to bed. The night outside was quiet, but within him, the pain continued to smolder. But somewhere, perhaps... the sky heavens was listening.