The sky above Pagad was pale and quiet as they stepped out of Seraphina's place. Vael carried Clied gently on his back, the boy still unconscious—his body warm, but his soul lost somewhere far deeper.
But this wasn't mere sleep.
Clied drifted in the pitch-black ocean of his spiritual realm. There was no up, no down—only a void that swallowed every sound and light. His memory blurred. The last thing he remembered was Seraphina's hand in his, and then darkness. Then silence.
And then… the weight.
He wandered through the realm blindly, calling out names that meant everything to him now.
"Vael…? Kira…?"
No answer.
His voice echoed, empty and alone. The panic rose in his chest like flooding water. He collapsed to the unseen ground, clutching his knees, his body trembling. Tears rolled down his cheeks silently as the familiar fear of abandonment returned.
Am I… alone again?
The shadows of memory crawled in around him.
Suddenly, the darkness shifted. A figure. A girl—her voice muffled by distance—was running toward him, arms outstretched. She called his name, over and over, but no matter how fast she ran, she only grew farther and farther away.
"No… wait…" Clied whispered.
And then she vanished.
That was when the anger surfaced—not loud, not wild, but burning quietly beneath the sorrow. Why did she leave me here? Why do people always leave?
His clenched fists trembled. His head bowed low, as the emotion twisted in his chest and exploded from within.
The black realm trembled with him.
Far away—back in the world of flesh and spirit—Seraphina had felt that same rage just moments ago, that same grief. The drowning… the storm… the voice that choked her as it screamed—
Who are you?
That cry had come from this place. From him.
The voice echoed now again in Clied's own mind, but it wasn't angry anymore. It was tired. Hollow. A whisper full of questions no child should have to ask.
"Who… are you?" it murmured again. A plea. A cry for meaning.
Clied sobbed into the darkness. "I don't know…"
Then—a faint glow. A white light. It shimmered like a flame in the void, calling him, but speaking no words.
Hope.
He stood. Wiping away his tears, he ran toward it, barefoot and shaking. The light grew brighter, wider, until it swallowed him whole—
—and then, suddenly, the smell of air, the hum of people, the rustle of cloth.
He awoke.
Clied's arms wrapped tightly around Vael's neck, pressing his face into the man's shoulder, sobbing. "Don't leave me… please…"
Vael, surprised, stopped walking and held the boy tighter.
"I'm here," he whispered. "I'm right here."
---
Later, in the Pagad's park, the three of them walked together. Clied was quiet, eyes still haunted. Vael glanced down at him, seeing the faint traces of exhaustion behind his fragile smile. Whatever he had seen, it had left a mark.
Still, they tried to enjoy the day.
Cotton candy stalls, spinning wheels, and laughter surrounded them. Kira skipped ahead, and Clied—though staying close to Vael—smiled faintly at the sight. He had missed this feeling. Even if he couldn't name it, this was what warmth felt like.
But their peace was soon interrupted.
Across the park, a noble boy, golden-haired and blue-eyed, strolled confidently with his escort—Jack. He wore a finely tailored coat embroidered with gold sigils, his posture straight, eyes wandering until they locked with Kira's.
The boy froze.
In the middle of the crowd, she stood like a flame against a backdrop of grey. Red hair, brown eyes, fierce and unyielding. Beautiful.
He approached immediately, ignoring Jack's protests.
"Milady," he announced with an arrogant grin. "I am Cael. Your prince charming has arrived."
Kira raised a brow, unimpressed.
Before Cael could reach for her hand, Vael stepped forward protectively. But Jack, alarmed, moved first—grabbing Cael's wrist.
"Sir, forgive me," Jack said stiffly. "But she is a former slave. She is not fit to touch the hand of royalty. You know such relationships are… forbidden."
Vael froze. The words sliced through the air like a knife.
Kira looked down.
But Vael's face darkened. Rage stirred.
"Don't talk about my daughter like that," he said, voice low and heavy.
Jack turned, smirking, trying to provoke him further.
"Daughter? You mean the one who died in the Archeon Tragedy?"
Time stopped.
Vael's eyes ignited. In a flash, his hand darted forward, ready to pierce Jack's throat. But before he could strike, several Awakened guardians surrounding the park reacted, restraining him.
"Vael!" one of them warned.
Vael's hand trembled in the air, inches from Jack's throat. He pulled back, swallowing his fury.
"You just saved your life today, Jack," he growled. "Be lucky."
Jack smirked, but his trembling legs betrayed him.
As they walked away, Clied—still holding onto Vael—noticed something odd: a small sack, loosely tied to Jack's side. Something about it glimmered unnaturally.
He said nothing… but his eyes didn't forget.
Behind them, Cael scratched his head, confused by the tension.
"Is… is it just me, or did things suddenly get cold?" he asked.
Jack didn't answer. He was still shaking.