They thundered down the stairs.
Velis's panicked shouting reached them before they entered the hall.
The moment they did, the sight froze them in place.
Nathene was on the ground.
Kneeling. Clutching his eyes. Tears streamed through his fingers as his body trembled uncontrollably.
Meria was awake.
She stood rigid, staring at her husband as if afraid that moving might shatter what little remained.
When she heard footsteps, her gaze snapped to Mihel. She rushed forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Oh, Mimi… I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry we frightened you."
Mihel couldn't look away from his father.
"M-mother…" His voice trembled. "What happened to Father? Why has he… why has he gone mad?"
Meria's strength finally gave out. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, hands shaking.
"What we attempted," she said softly, "was to glimpse the final memories of the dead. A technique taught to us by Father Mirysis. Our Circle is only Uncommon… it was too soon."
Her voice cracked.
"What we saw was not a man. It was a devil. Black and red twisted together, swallowing everything. Cold eyes looked down on us as we tried to see its face."
Tears spilled freely now.
"In the end, Nathene tried to bear the mental burden alone. He shifted it all onto himself." She sobbed. "It was more than his mind could endure."
Mihel stared at his father, watching the broken movements, the shallow gasps.
Suddenly, Nathene lurched upright.
His eyes darted wildly across the room.
"Master…? Master!" he cried, laughter spilling from his throat. "I HAVE COME— HAHAHA—"
The sound cut off.
His body collapsed again, writhing in silent agony.
No one spoke.
Finally, Meria lifted her head and looked at Mihel and Riche.
"Do not let this shackle your future," she said firmly, though her voice shook. "You must leave in the morning, just as you decided. I want both of you gone by sunrise."
Mihel swallowed hard. "M-mother… what about Father? Will he stay like this?"
She glanced at Nathene.
"I will take him to Father Mirysis," she said. "He will find a way. By the Lady's grace."
The night ended in silence.
They slept where they sat, exhaustion dragging them down. This time Mihel slept without dreams.
At 6:45 eos, Riche shook him awake.
"Come on, Mi," he whispered. "Let's leave before they notice. I can't handle a teary farewell."
"But… we won't see them for a long time."
Riche exhaled. "That's exactly why. Trust me. Go home, grab your sword. We'll meet at the forest's edge."
Mihel reluctantly nodded and slipped out of the Malant household and ran back to his own.
At the gate, he stopped.
Mihel looked at the house, at the place where so many of his memories had been forged.
After a moment, he tore a strip from his cloak and tucked it beneath the lamp by the door.
It wasn't a proper goodbye.
But it was something.
He stepped inside.
The small house that had raised him closed around his senses, and the memories came all at once.
His first clumsy swings with a wooden sword. Digging a hole in the corner of the yard with Riche, convinced they would uncover hidden treasure. Laughter, scraped knees, evenings filled with warmth.
Nathene and Meria had him late in life. To make up for the years they'd lost, they had poured everything they had into him.
Love. Care. Patience.
Mihel climbed the stairs and entered his room, stopping before his sword.
Chamynos Fios.
It hung neatly in its sheath. He lifted it from the hook and slung it across his back.
Then he grabbed a small bag, stuffing it with notebooks, pens, clothes, and whatever else he might need.
'I need to take something else,' he thought.
'Something to remind me.'
He went to his parents' room.
On the bed sat a small box.
Mihel opened it and found a bracelet, with a thin metal strip etched with a single name.
Westrow.
Beneath it lay a folded note.
'Dear Mihel,
We are so proud of you for receiving your Destiny. A life of thrill and wonder awaits you. This is a small gift so you never forget us, no matter where you travel. But we know you will visit whenever you can.
Stay safe, by the grace of the Lady.
Love, your parents.'
His chest tightened.
They had meant to give it to him two days ago.
'Before I became… different.'
Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away. He fastened the bracelet around his wrist and stepped back outside.
Mihel faced the house one last time.
"I'll come back," he whispered. "Stronger. Having done things you can be proud of."
Then he turned and ran toward the forest.
Riche was waiting.
Mundo and Mitad hung at his sides, his brown fur coat pulled tight against the morning chill. A pack rested on his back.
"So that's all your stuff?" Riche asked. "You ready?"
Mihel nodded. "Of course. Let's go see what the world has in store for us."
They followed the forest's edge, the Skola standing between Skaria and Wahum.
Riche scratched his chin. "One thought though. How do we make Arivy to buy stuff later on?"
Mihel burst out laughing.
"What?" Riche frowned. "I'm serious."
"It's just…" Mihel shook his head. "We're setting off with no plan at all. At least Mentor Cilluh might point us in the right direction."
Riche smiled. "Fair enough. First one to stop running carries the other's weapons."
He bolted.
"Hey—!"
Mihel chased after him.
They ran all the way to the Skola.
Several familiar faces were already gathered there, other bright prospects from their class.
'Guess we weren't the only ones who didn't choose a Church,' Mihel thought.
A voice spoke from behind them.
"So, the two stars of our Skola chose the Exousia as well?"
They turned to see Frese.
Riche grinned and walked over. Mihel followed.
"The Churches drill their ideals into you," Riche said. "The military seemed like the only real choice."
Frese hummed, then turned to Mihel. "And you? You still look gloomy. Getting your destiny is supposed to be fun and exciting you know?."
She tapped his forehead lightly.
Mihel glanced at her fingers, then smiled. "The gods didn't find me worthy."
She blinked, then laughed. "If the gods don't find you worthy, then what hope do the rest of us have?"
She saw her friends waving at her.
"Go on then. Mentor's waiting. Stay in touch. Praise the Blade." Frese said before walking to them.
"You too, Frese," Riche said. "See you around."
She turned back to look at them and waved.
They entered the Skola building and approached the Mentor's chamber.
As they stepped inside, both bowed deeply.
Mentor Cilluh sat behind his desk, papers piled high around him.