The training courtyard was deserted by evening, the last of the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The others had retired for supper, either to the main hall or to their private quarters, leaving only me and Behemoth behind—though, unbeknownst to me, she had lingered for a reason I would soon learn.
I was gathering my books and loose scrolls from the training bench when I heard the crackle of suppressed sobbing. It came from the statue alcove—a semicircle of marble pillars framing a carved relief of ancient heroes. Behemoth often trained there, but I had never seen her linger after practice.
I followed the sound silently. Soft footsteps, barely louder than a whisper, led me around the corner. There, half-hidden in the dusk, I saw Behemoth: her usual stoic armor and robes replaced by simple training leathers, her silver-white hair loose around her pale shoulders, her golden eyes red and glistening in the dim light.
She knelt on the cold stone floor, holding a small, shattered relic in her fist—the fragment of a crystalline orb, etched with delicate patterns and long-dulled runes. Her shoulders shook as she quietly wept, the sorrow etched deep into her beautiful features.
I froze.
I had never seen her cry. The most composed and powerful spirit beast I knew, the woman who crushed dragons with a single blow, was here, alone and unguarded, tears flowing freely over those perfect cheeks.
Something inside me swayed. I took a hesitant step forward—and she sniffed, as if sensing my presence. For a heartbeat, her head remained bowed, as though she'd hoped no one would find her.
But then she looked up, eyes blazing with a mixture of shame and pain. She held the broken relic out, voice trembling. "Master…" she whispered, as if that single word was all she could bear.
I knelt beside her, careful not to startle her. "Behemoth," I said softly. "What happened?"
She swallowed, turning the shards in her hand. "This… was my ordeal's crest. It was given to me by someone I loved—someone whose life I swore to protect." Her voice cracked, but she pressed on. "I failed them. I was supposed to defend them from harm, to stand between them and danger. But I wasn't strong enough. And because of me… they perished."
Her tears fell onto the cracked marble. "I carried this relic as a reminder. Of my vow to never fail again. But today…" She pressed the fragments to her chest and closed her eyes. "Today I lost it. And it feels like I've lost them all over again."
My heart pounded. I reached out a hand and gently touched her shoulder. "Behemoth," I said, voice thick, "I'm sorry. I… I didn't know."
She lowered the relic, face trembling. "You've always known me as the protector. The unbreakable fortress. But I am weak. I have fears. I have regrets." She looked up at me, raw vulnerability shining in her golden gaze. "I cling to this bond with you because I can't lose another life I swore to defend."
My throat tightened. I set my scrolls aside and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close. She inhaled sharply, her armor warm and solid against my chest. I held her tightly, as though by doing so I could shield her from the pain she'd carried for so long.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The courtyard was silent, the pillars looming like silent witnesses. Finally, Behemoth rested her head against my shoulder, tears dampening my tunic.
"If I ever lose you," she whispered against my chest, voice husky with emotion, "I will destroy the world. I cannot bear it." Her grip on me tightened, nails gently digging into my back.
I stroked her hair gently, pressing my cheek to the top of her head. "You won't ever lose me," I promised, voice resolute. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
She let out a shaky breath, holding me closer. "I—" She paused, struggling to find her words. "You give me strength to keep living. You remind me that some vows are worth more than the weight of regret."
I hugged her tighter. "And you protect me every day. Your strength isn't just talent or magic… it's your heart. I need you."
Her lips pressed to my shoulder. She closed her golden eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "For not giving up on me."
We stayed there for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, until the sky had darkened completely. Fireflies drifted in the night air, and the first stars appeared above the courtyard pillars.
Finally, Behemoth pulled back slightly, wiping her tears. She looked at me with that same fierce calm I knew so well—only now laced with something deeper, something more vulnerable.
"I will carry on," she said, voice steady. "For them. For you. For us." She brushed the relic shards into my hand. "But I needed to feel… understood."
I nodded, accepting the fragile fragments. "We'll find a way to restore it," I said firmly. "Or I'll help you carry the memory in your heart, so it never breaks again."
She placed her hand over mine, pressing the shards tenderly. "That means more than you know."
I stood and gently helped her to her feet. Her eyes met mine, strong and determined once more. "Come," she said softly. "The others will be wondering where we are."
I offered her my arm, and she slipped her hand into mine. Together we walked back toward the glow of the main hall, side by side, carrying new trust between us—proof that even the strongest warrior has a heart worth protecting.