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Chapter 30 - chapter 30 : farewell

The wooden door was collapsing, producing a sharp, screeching sound — like the horror of what one sees screaming.

It opened slowly… fearfully human.

Despite his exhaustion, his back was straight, yet thin, a young man entered: Elios.

His face was like a map of a lost battle: dry scratches, black ash clinging, bloody cracks, old scars, dark rings, and a split across the right eyebrow.

His clothes torn at the shoulders, his armor cracked on one side, and on the left as if an arrow had pierced him, but had not made him fall.

He stood in the middle of the shadow, his eyes wandering, as if he had not yet confirmed whether he was alive… or sleeping.

Silence in the room became heavy like smoke.

Niva, the woman who had saved them yesterday, instinctively grabbed her weapon. Her heart trembled as if something had cracked inside her.

> "Elios…?"

Her whisper was a prayer and a question at once.

Then suddenly, as if his caution no longer held, she ran toward him, and without even realizing, her tears streamed as she threw herself into his arms.

> "I thought… I thought you were…"

No one completed the sentence.

Elios held her, but without sound, his features remained frozen, like a statue. His fatigue made his sorrow resemble stone.

A moment later, Mira entered with heavy steps, her gaze polished yet trembling, the mother who dared not hope… nor even want to hear.

With trembling hands, she approached, placed her fingers upon his face.

> "Elios… you are alive."

As if making sure he wasn't a phantom.

He said with a voice as if afraid not to warn her of something:

> "I… I am sorry."

The words froze in the air.

Even the breaths of those present stopped for a moment.

Mira whispered, but did not wait for his reply:

> "Sorry? Elios… answer me. Where is your father, Orestos? Where… is he?"

She had waited for this time.

He shook his head slowly, as if unwilling to admit the truth with tears dropping from his eyes

" You are the best father ever , dad was the best father ever"

Niva gasped, and Mira placed her hand on her shoulder to prevent her collapse.

But she too was not stronger than she tried to show.

With a low voice, as if speaking to death itself, she asked:

> "How… did that happen?"

Elios raised his glassy eyes, carrying a pain he did not know how to explain.

> "Everything… since the beginning. I will tell you."

> "He fought… until the end."

At that moment, silence was the true king.

The palace halls, which had always echoed with official steps, suddenly turned into mute corridors.

Through the large windows overlooking the black sky, a glow ignited deep red — not sunrise, not sunset, but an appointment with fire.

The rain did not fall from the sky… but from hearts. Something in it was nostalgia.

In one of the great halls of the palace, King Orestos stood.

He tied his royal cloak silently, staring at his cracked armor, as if bidding farewell to his kingdom… or perhaps to himself.

Mira entered without announcing herself.

The king did not turn toward her, though his hair trembled.

Her voice came soft, hesitant:

> "Won't you say something before you leave?"

He only tightened his belt and drew a slow breath, as if convincing his body not to tremble.

Mira approached with heavy steps, as if walking on a broken body, yet lightly as if carried by air.

> "Say… this is not farewell. That there is still a plan."

At last he turned his face to her, his eyes carrying a smile drowned in ash.

> "The plan? To delay the fall. To let us die standing. At least one more time… to be seen waving, not buried in graves."

> "No!" she cried, a tear sliding down her cheek despite her will. "Do not joke. I don't want you written as a hero. I want you alive, with your stubbornness, your foolishness, your strange glances, where I forget myself. You… with your sword."

He smiled faintly, his voice quiet:

> "And this is what makes me love you more than the crown, more than the kingdoms."

At that moment, Niva entered in her gray nightdress, her hair wet like a dangling branch.

> "Father?"

She ran toward him, clinging to his leg like a drowning person to a trunk in a flood.

> "Don't go! Take me with you! I promise, I will fight, I won't disappear, not again!"

Orestos lowered himself to her level, looking into her eyes filled with pride and tears.

> "Niva… sometimes, keeping the light alive does not mean carrying the sword. It means preserving life until all torches are extinguished."

Her lips trembled but no words came out.

His voice was low, each word a piece of his heart:

> "When I am gone, no one will remain to remind them of us in this world… except you. Be memory, be the beginning, not the end."

Her voice shook:

> "Will you come back?"

He did not say yes.

He did not say no.

He only whispered:

> "When the world needs you… don't look back."

Mira kept looking at him, unwilling to blink, as if one blink would steal the moment of farewell.

She whispered with trembling lips:

> "Then die quickly… if you must… because I do not love to see you suffer."

He replied with a deep voice:

> "Then let it be… that I died after my enemy saw me smile."

Without saying goodbye, he turned, opened the door of the hall, and walked out.

On the threshold, Elios stood, carrying his broken wooden sword, his eyes full of anger and confusion.

> "Won't you take me with you?"

Orestos replied quietly:

> "This is not your place, Elios."

But Elios stepped forward:

> "I am the heir to the throne! If I do not stand in protection of the kingdom, where then?"

Orestos sighed, placing his hand on his son's shoulder.

> "To hold the sword means one thing: to kill something human… and to kill another human."

Without hesitation Elios replied:

> "Then let me learn the difference! Just don't leave me behind!"

The king raised his eyes to the heavens, as if summoning patience.

> "You are still small."

Elios clenched his wooden sword:

> "Then I will keep it… so they remember me as more than I was before."

And he ran, afraid his father would change his mind.

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