The sun had long since dipped below the distant ridges, painting the skies in deep hues of violet and ember. A quiet calm settled over the Astarlyn household, different from silence, this calm was full of meaning. It was the eve of the third day.
Azaryel sat at his usual dinner spot, the soft orange light flickering over his dark black hair and casting long shadows beneath his green eyes. The only difference this time was, he was not his cheerful self instead he was lost in his thoughts. He'd barely spoken since dinner, his mind lost in echoes different voices the orb, his parents, his siblings and then the Grand Chair's. All played again and again in his mind adding the weight of the unknown looming just beyond morning's light.
Although his parents and siblings were around him in a circle. No one broke the silence. They simply let the silence go on, as if, it was meant to be.
Then, it Elarinya who first broke the silence, kneeling before her youngest. Her fingers, delicate yet steady, reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Her eyes shimmered as she cupped his face gently.
"You are strong, my son," she whispered. "Walk forward without looking back, do not fear the unknown."
She pressed her forehead to his, holding him close for a long breath. Then, soft as a whisper, she kissed his cheeks.
Azaryel didn't speak. Yet, his mother's embrace and words comforted him, as if they woke up a strength within him, that was till now in slumber.
Drayelion stepped forward next. The firelight caught the sharp lines of his face, but in his eyes, there was only softness. He knelt, placing a firm, grounding hand on Azaryel's shoulder.
"Strength doesn't always mean fighting with a sword and winning," he said. "Sometimes, it means enduring in silence. Facing the storm head-on. Standing your ground when everything tells you to run."
He gave a slight squeeze to Azaryel's shoulder.
"It's in knowing when to hold firm and more importantly, when to let go."
Azaryel looked up at his father. Slowly, the doubt and fear in his expression began to fade, making way for something steadier: resolve.
Then came Aokiran, who didn't kneel. He simply sat across from his brother, their knees touching, a steady hand resting on Azaryel's back.
"I said most of what I wanted to this morning," he murmured. "But I'll add one more promise."
Azaryel glanced at him, eyes searching.
"I promise… no matter what happens in that cave, I'll be here to welcome you back, when you walk out of it. Believe in yourself, little brother like we all believe in you."
Azaryel's eyes welled with tears, but he nodded.
Finally, Xentharya stepped forward. She didn't kneel either. Instead, she dropped down beside him and ruffled his already wild hair with a grin.
"I'm bad at the emotional stuff," she admitted. "So I'll just say this."
Azaryel turned toward her, already with anticipating.
"I know you're strong. You'll face whatever's in that cave head-on. But if you come out crying, I'm doubling your training time."
Azaryel blinked, then chuckled. Somehow, facing the unknown seemed milder than surviving her training sessions.
The room filled with gentle laughter. The hearth crackled. Shadows danced along the walls. Outside, the wind carried the scent of dawn waiting just beyond the horizon.
Elarinya pulled all three of her children close and embraced them tightly. Sometimes, a mother's warm hug and a father's steady gaze were all it took to build courage and that was exactly what was happening at the quiet hearth of the Astarlyn household.
They sat there for a long while, speaking no more. Just sharing warmth. Closeness. A love so deep, it needed no words.
When Azaryel finally rose, the room did not feel heavy.
It felt ready.