The koi woke, as he always did, drifting in the cold current of the river. His body was whole again, his scales unscarred, his fins moving without pain.
But something was different this time.
Sense stirred before his eyes adjusted. A faint aura brushed against him — one he could never mistake. Ian. The bond pulsed with familiarity.
Yet it wasn't the same.
Once, Ian's will had burned steady, hot and stubborn like a flame that refused to die. Now it was faint, brittle, like a lantern guttering in the wind.
The koi's chest tightened. He turned immediately, thrashing his tail, surging through reeds and currents to chase the fading aura.
The closer he swam, the stranger it felt. The place tugged at him too, pulling memories from deep within. The bend of the river, the worn stones, the trees leaning low to the water — he knew this place.
It was where they had first met. Where Ian had crouched by the bank and offered him the red cord. Where everything had begun.
The koi broke the surface.
Ian was there.
But not the Ian he remembered.
The man who sat on the bank was bent with age. His hair was white, his back curved. His right sleeve hung empty, pinned at the shoulder. His face was lined with years, his body worn down by time.
The koi froze. Realization struck him harder than any dragon's flame. How long… how many years have I slept?
Ian turned, slow but deliberate, and his eyes fell on the koi. For a heartbeat, recognition sparked in them.
"I know you," Ian whispered, his voice cracked with age. "The koi… from Ember Lake. The one who fought with me and Rakkel."
The koi's fins trembled. He darted in frantic circles, splashing the surface. His chest ached, his heart tore open. He wanted to scream, to apologize, to explain. But no matter how he thrashed, only bubbles rose.
Ian watched him with a tired smile. "You're still alive. I wondered if I'd ever see you again."
His voice turned heavier, as if weighed down by memories. "We killed it, you know. The Dark Fire Dragon. Rakkel… gave his life. I lost my arm. But together, we finished it."
—
The koi's Sense pulled at Ian's memory, and he saw.
When he had died in the flames, Rakkel had leapt straight into the dragon's jaws. The tiger's body ignited, burning brighter than it ever had before, flames colliding with the dragon's fire. It was a sacrifice, pure and absolute, buying one final chance.
Ian had taken it. With both hands, he drove his sword deep into the dragon's chest. The beast roared and lashed out. Fire tore across Ian, ripping away his right arm. But he didn't let go. With a final scream, he pushed the blade through the dragon's heart.
The Dark Fire Dragon collapsed, its molten blood boiling Ember Lake until the cavern shuddered with steam. When silence fell, Ian stood alone on the ledge — one arm gone, his partner gone — but victorious.
The dragon was dead.
—
Ian's voice quivered but carried pride. "I lost Rakkel. I lost my arm. But I avenged Mari. I avenged our family. I avenged the village… and you too."
He lowered his head, smiling faintly. "So no, I don't regret it. Not any of it."
The koi's fins shook violently. His chest hurt so badly he thought it would break. He darted round and round, the river swirling with his grief.
No regrets? How can you say that?
It was his weakness that had forced them to pay that price. If he had been stronger, maybe Rakkel would still live. Maybe Ian would still have both arms. Maybe Ian wouldn't have carried decades of scars alone.
He hated himself.
I was too weak.
—
The System's cold voice stirred.
[Sacrifice detected: Rakkel's life, Ian's right arm, Ian's battle experience]
[Upgrade unlocked: Sense — Alternate Mode: Telepathy]
The koi froze. Telepathy?
[Skill: Sense (Alternate Mode: Telepathy)]
Type: Passive/Active
Effect: Transmits fragments of thought to bond partner.
Limitations: Extremely unstable. Range: short. Clarity: poor.
The koi trembled. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But it was all he had.
Ian's breathing was shallow, his shoulders sagging. "Strange, seeing you now. I thought… maybe you'd died long ago. But here you are."
The koi gathered every ounce of will, forcing his thoughts into the new skill. His mind scraped raw as the message pushed through.
…sorry… i… weak…
The words were jagged, broken, but Ian stiffened. His eyes widened. "You… spoke?"
The koi tried again, thrashing in the water. …sorry… i… weak…
It came out shattered, unclear.
Ian's face softened. His hand lowered to the water, fingers brushing the surface. "No," he whispered. "You weren't weak. You were there. You fought with us. That's all that mattered."
The koi spun tighter, guilt crashing over him. He wanted to cry like a man, to pour out all of it — regret, apology, sorrow — but his telepathy faltered, only fragments escaping.
[Telepathy unstable]
[Message clarity: <30%]
Ian closed his eyes. "I avenged us all. Mari, Rakkel, you, me. The dragon is dead. I can rest with that."
The koi tried one last time, his thoughts straining to form words.
…sorry… i… weak…
Ian heard. His lips curved into a faint, peaceful smile.
And then his body sagged, his breathing slowed, and the koi was left circling helplessly in the river, guilt heavy in his heart.
No matter what Ian said, no matter the victory, the koi couldn't forgive himself.
He blamed himself for Rakkel's sacrifice. For Ian's missing arm. For the years Ian had carried alone.
For being too weak.