Demad had never seen blood spill like that before. For a moment, he thought Kira was dead. But he refused to surrender. Gathering his will, he grabbed Kira's hand, pulled him up from the ground, and dragged him through the darkness of the forest night.
Al made no effort to kill or attack Demad. Instead, she simply watched the desperate struggle of this child. With her hollow eyes, she observed as Demad dragged Kira forward.
Demad's muscles slowly began to burn. His breathing grew heavy, and Kira's weight on his back felt unbearable. The only thing driving him forward was the warmth of Kira's blood soaking into his back.
"Hold on," Demad muttered. "We're almost there."
Suddenly, the forest's silence shattered once more. The black and violet aura returned, and Al appeared again. She slashed through the air with her claws and struck Demad across the chest. The blow was shallow but swift—so fast that he couldn't react. He lost his balance. A burning pain spread through him. His vision darkened. His chest grew cold and numb.
But there was one thing Demad had to protect. Suddenly, a green aura began to glow from his eyes. The world shifted.
Strange sounds—like whispers of suffering and guilt—echoed in his ears. He looked at Al… but no longer saw the ragged woman with hollow black eyes. He saw a queen.
He focused harder. Images surfaced—this queen laughing, speaking gently to a child. That child looked strikingly similar to Demad. Then he realized Al had raised her hand to strike Kira again. Without hesitation, Demad threw himself in front of Kira.
The claws sliced through the air—then stopped inches before his eyes. Al's body began trembling violently.
"…Arban… no… no… you're not him."
She fell to her knees and began to cry. She clawed at the earth, her eyes flickering with a faint, twisted hatred born from unbearable emotion. Demad stared in disbelief. He didn't know how to react. His mind couldn't process what he was seeing.
He should have run. He should have escaped with Kira. But he couldn't bear the sight of Al crying like that. Despite his torn chest and the blood dripping from his wound, Demad stepped closer and embraced her.
Through broken sobs, Al whispered, "You look so much like him… I hurt you… blood blinded my eyes…"
Then she screamed: "I wounded my son!"
Demad looked at her again. He saw the queen once more. He understood. Al had once been a dignified queen… and now she was nothing but a wandering spirit. With trembling hands, Demad reached toward her. He placed his blood-stained hand on her shoulder and whispered into her ear:
"I… I can be your son."
Suddenly, a memory resurfaced within Al—a promise she had once made to her child: We will always stay together. She looked into Demad's face and remembered her son's scent. The green aura around Demad's eyes intensified, engulfing his entire body. Al's body and spirit dissolved into dust-like particles and were drawn into him.
Al now rested within Demad—somewhere warm and peaceful. Exhausted and overwhelmed, Demad collapsed face-first onto the ground. Blood still flowed from his wound.
Familiar voices echoed faintly around him: "Demad! Kira! Hey—open your eyes! I'm talking to you!"
It was Nila. But with a faint smile, Demad's eyes grew heavy and closed.
Nila wept as she tried desperately to keep the boys conscious and bind their wounds. The world felt unreal, like the ground itself was suspended in air.
When Demad finally opened his eyes, his vision was blurry. It felt as if he had crossed into another world. There was weight on his stomach. With effort, he pushed himself up and realized he was home. The warm weight resting on him was his mother's head—Emiliana had fallen asleep beside him.
He touched his chest. No wound. Shocked, he tore away the bandages wrapped around his body. There was nothing. No injury.
The sound of the bandages rustling woke Emiliana. She opened her eyes and immediately embraced him tightly.
"My dear, are you okay? What attacked you?"
Memories of that night returned slowly. Demad hugged her back.
"How many days was I unconscious? Is Kira okay?"
"You've been in bed for two days. Kira is fine… but forget him. Are you okay?"
"Yes, Mom. Don't worry."
Suddenly, the door burst open. Fira rushed in and threw herself onto Demad, hugging him tightly, wiping her tears against his blanket.
"Do you know how much you worried Mom? She's been here since that night, watching over you!"
Nearly suffocating under Fira's grip, Demad pushed her away, gasping. "Sorry…"
Quietly, within himself, he whispered: I can't tell them about Al. This has to remain a secret.
Fira spoke again: "Your wounds healed the very first night. Not even a scar remained. But Kira is still injured."
Emiliana pinched Demad's cheek gently. "That's because my son is strong."
Demad's heart swelled with warmth and pride at their concern. Then he heard another familiar voice in the hallway. Nila had come to visit.
"You idiot," she said bluntly. "I told you not to cause trouble and to come back to the lake quickly. But whatever… thank God you're both alive."
Fira and Emiliana thanked Nila for saving them in time. Demad's cheeks flushed red. Nila placed a basket of fruit beside him.
"I brought these from the city. Don't leave even one behind."
"Thank you for helping us, Aunt Nila."
She ruffled his hair and left with a wink.
Demad rested in bed for several days. One night, while he was sleeping deeply beneath his blankets, Al suddenly emerged from his eye and sat on the chair beside his bed. The sound of the chair creaking woke him. In the darkness, he saw her face.
After a few seconds, realization struck him. His eyes widened in shock. He was about to scream—but Al pressed a finger to her lips.
"From now on, you and I live together. I am your mother… and you are my son."
A soft smile appeared on her face—strangely contrasting her eerie appearance. "Deal?"
Demad, still stunned and with no other choice, slowly nodded. "Okay… deal."
Satisfied, Al leapt onto the bed and lay beside him. Demad's body stiffened.
"What if someone sees us like this?!"
"Relax. I'm in my spirit form."
"…No. Go back inside my eye."
She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Spoilsport."
She dissolved and was drawn back into his eye. Demad exhaled in relief. Then, from deep within him, he heard her voice.
"I'll always be behind you. Just like back then, we'll never be separated again."
"Who are you talking about?"
"…Forget it. Ignore that. Good night, my dear."
Demad pulled the blanket over himself, tried to calm his thoughts, and eventually drifted back to sleep.
Morning light once again filled his room. He opened his eyes to the first rays of a new day and pushed the blanket aside with renewed energy. He stepped into the hallway and saw Emiliana preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, dear. Can you move properly now?"
"Yes, Mom. I'm completely fine."
She smiled with relief. Demad helped her set the table. Soon, Fira, Emiliana, and Demad were seated together, eating breakfast.
"Mom, yesterday I managed to create much bigger flames," Fira said proudly.
Emiliana stroked her hair. "Good job, my daughter. If you continue like this, you'll bring honor to Molonia one day."
Demad listened quietly. Something deep inside him began to buzz—a quiet frustration that he still hadn't discovered his own powers.
Emiliana noticed. "Hey, why the long face? Don't worry. You'll discover your class soon."
"Really?"
"Yes, my dear. Be patient. When you grow a little more, you'll find it yourself. But if your power turns out to be dark, I'll kill you myself!"
They all burst into laughter. Time passed like that. Their bonds grew stronger. And somewhere deep inside Demad… Al watched. She listened to the lively rhythm of his life, a faint smile resting on her face—as if she had never once tried to take his life or Kira's.