The scene returned to Korgami, standing silently atop the massive stone wall.
The memories faded, like a dream that passed in an instant…
And now, his violet eyes stared towards Ragnar, who was materializing from the shadows behind him.
Though they stood at a dizzying height, nearly nine hundred meters above the ground,
Korgami showed no concern for the danger…
Only one thing occupied his mind:
Seeing his sister…
And now that he had glimpsed her from afar, and assured himself of her safety…
It was time to depart. Not to move away… but to get closer.
He whispered softly:
"Ragnar… let's go."
A mysterious voice answered from within the shadows:
"As you command."
In an instant, they vanished as if they had never been there…
As if the wind had erased them from existence.
Then…
They suddenly appeared before Korgami's old house.
The neighborhood was almost deserted,
As most residents had gone out to collect the food rations distributed by the caravans,
This time…
Was the most suitable for a visit.
Korgami didn't move immediately.
He stood before the door, gazing at it as if seeing the specters of his past standing behind him…
His mother, his father, Amishya running towards him with her childish laughter…
All of it had turned to ash, yet it still lived in his memory.
When Korgami placed his hand on the rusted door handle,
And slowly pushed it open…
"*Screeeech…*"
A sharp, grating sound echoed, as if the door was lamenting the loneliness it had endured all these years.
The door was very old, almost worn away by grief and dust.
Korgami entered quietly, his eyes scanning everything as if returning to his grave… or his homeland.
The moment Ragnar followed him, his head struck the top edge of the doorframe!
"*Ouch!*"
He lifted his head, rubbing his forehead. Korgami turned towards him, looking at his stunned face…
Then suddenly, without warning…
"Hahahahaha…"
Korgami burst into genuine, warm laughter—a sound Ragnar had never heard before.
It wasn't mockery.
It was pure laughter… emanating from a heart long scarred, but one that now… glimpsed a tiny spark within.
Ragnar froze in place, bewildered.
Since accompanying his master Korgami, he had never seen him smile… let alone laugh.
But now, he was laughing.
And only then did he understand.
It was simply… that Korgami was happy to see his sister.
Korgami stepped further inside, followed by Ragnar's slow, still-shocked footsteps.
The scent of old dust remained just as it was…
But to him, it wasn't unpleasant; it was familiar… like the very smell of childhood itself.
Everything in the house was almost exactly as he had left it:
That broken wooden chair by the entrance,
The metal crate they used as a table,
And that staircase that emitted a faint groan with every step.
Sunlight filtered through small cracks in the walls,
Drawing golden threads across the cracked floor,
As if trying to illuminate the memories clinging to the room's corners.
"Everything is still the same…"
Korgami murmured, walking slowly towards the table where his family had once gathered.
He touched its surface with his hand, wiping away a thin layer of dust.
Ragnar was silent… looking around in bewilderment.
He hadn't expected the Master of Shadows to live in a place like this.
Korgami said in a low voice, almost a whisper:
"Here… my mother used to cook… and here, my father would fix the only lamp we owned…"
Then he looked towards the corner near the stairs and pointed:
"And there… there I would lift Amishya onto my shoulders and spin her around until she laughed…"
He paused for a moment, then said with a faint smile:
"Everything has changed… except these memories."
He tried to maintain composure, but faced with these memories… he couldn't remain that cold person.
***
Though he had disappeared for a year, Korgami knew his family no longer lived here.
They had moved further away, beyond the wall, to one of the districts in City "S," where poverty was less crushing… or so it was said.
Yet, this forgotten house in the poor district held a unique magic that distance couldn't erase.
Every corner, every crack in the wall, every layer of dust carried memories.
Memories no one possessed but him.
Korgami slowly ascended to the second floor, the stairs emitting a soft groan beneath his feet.
Upstairs, only one door awaited him.
The door to his room.
He pushed it open quietly, as if not wanting to disturb time.
The room was almost exactly as he had left it…
That short wooden bed was still in the corner, right next to the door.
Above it, an old, small piece of cloth he used to rest his head on instead of a pillow.
And at the foot of the bed, a coarse grey blanket, stitched repeatedly until it resembled an ancient battle cloak,
But it had been enough to shield him from the harsh winter cold.
On the opposite side, that small window overlooking the neighborhood…
He remembered perfectly how Amishya would jump every morning to open it,
Then call softly to the neighbors:
"Sorry if we disturb you… I just need to wake my brother."
Then she'd run towards him and shout his name to no avail,
And finally… she'd jump on top of him to wake him up, laughing.
The memory drew a smile on his face… though he didn't know if it was from nostalgia… or pain.
He stood silent in the middle of the room,
And everything in it seemed to embrace him despite the absence…
The cracked walls,
Held an echo of childhood,
And of the innocence stolen by time.
***
And when Korgami turned towards the opposite side of the room,
He saw that small wooden dresser before him…
With its broken mirror, just as it always was.
He smiled silently.
How many times had he stood before this mirror…
Adjusting his simple clothes, checking his only semblance of appearance every day,
Before leaving to continue what resembled life.
But the dresser… wasn't just furniture.
It was his little hiding place.
He approached with quiet steps,
And bent down slowly as he used to do years ago.
He reached his hand towards the small knob,
And tried to open it… but it didn't budge.
He paused for a second… then his eyes widened.
– "Ah… the key…"
He whispered to himself, as if the boy he once was had suddenly awakened.
He lifted the grey blanket from his bed,
Searched gently beneath it… and there was the key.
A light rust coated its edges, but the shape was familiar.
He inserted it into the lock… *Click*.
The drawer opened.
An old scent wafted out, a mix of paper, a faint perfume, and memories.
Inside… were photographs.
Pictures of him with his mother, his father, and Amishya…
Pictures of them in front of this house, on the roof,
On holidays, and in winter, when they would laugh despite everything.
He reached his hand towards one of the photos,
His hand trembling slightly.
In it was him, a child with a face covered in dirt…
And Amishya beside him, holding his hand, with a small flower tucked behind her ear.
He stared at it for long seconds.
"Were we really happy?"
He said it in a low voice, not needing an answer.
***
Ragnar stood in a corner of the room, not commenting, not interfering,
His black eyes with their violet souls within… watching Korgami move like a child who had found his old toy after a long absence.
His master, who was accustomed to silence and ice,
Was now sorting through old things with eyes glinting faintly,
A glimmer Ragnar hadn't seen in a long time.
The violet in Korgami's eyes wasn't just a color,
It was a spark… a memory… perhaps a vulnerability.
"Will he be able to bear it?"
Ragnar wondered to himself, showing no emotion on his stony face.
– "If he can't…"
He whispered to himself,
"Then this world… will be made to pay."
And at that moment, a familiar sound pierced the silence…
"*Creeeak…*"
It came from the door…
That old creak, unchanged despite the passage of time.
Korgami turned instantly,
Ragnar remained rooted in place,
His hand drifting slightly towards his sword hilt… just in case.
"Had someone returned?"
And suddenly, he heard other sounds…
There were sounds of light footsteps creeping up from the bottom of the stairs, each step causing a faint groan as if awakening a slumbering memory within the walls.
Korgami and Ragnar didn't move. They merged completely with the shadows in a corner of the room, like ghosts from a past yet to be buried.
The hem of a simple white dress appeared on the stairs, swaying gently with her movement, adorned with green lines like the leaves of a plant in its first spring.
Her black hair hung down to her elbows, shifting with her breath, while the shadows of the white hat atop her head cast half her face in soft mystery.
She ascended lightly, as if the stairs knew her, or missed her.
Then she stopped before the room's door, pushed open the ancient door which emitted its ancient screech as before, and entered…
Her green eyes contemplated the place in silence, holding within their depths an un-forgotten childhood and an unfathomed strength.
She entered searching for something specific… the dresser. Her mother had told her to take that old drawer, the last thing remaining of Korgami, before he disappeared.
But Korgami wasn't absent. He was there, watching, suffocating with nostalgia…