Us

In the depths of the chasm, where no light could reach and the silence shattered the mind of even the most resolute person, two white orbs suddenly gleamed.

The man sitting on a polished stone beside the steep slope of the chasm smirked and said,

"So, finally someone from Siralda is here?"

He turned his gaze toward a colossal serpent hanging from the walls of the chasm like a coiled rope.

"Which elf managed to obtain the Scythes?"

Upon hearing the question, the serpent twisted its massive head and growled,

"Elllllllf... hrrrrrr... humaaaaaan..."

The man frowned. "What? What do you mean?"

"Maaaan..."

"Hisssssss!"

At the mention of "human," he unleashed his aura. The mana radiating from his body momentarily revealed his dark skin and braided hair.

"A human has inherited the greatest weapon of the elves? This... is unforgivable!!!"

His shout echoed through the endless corridors and tunnels. Yet, Harold, standing atop one of the buildings, heard nothing.

His eyes scanned the path ahead before he leaped from the rooftop. Using wind magic, he softened his descent and, finally, performed a technique similar to what Talion used.

At that moment, he merged his presence with the environment and moved toward unexplored areas. He was searching for a way to escape that colossal serpent. That monster was not something he could hunt easily.

Harold advanced through the unknown passages and reached the back of the castle. The main gate was sealed, leaving him no way to enter. So, he sought an alternative route.

Climbing the castle walls, he attempted to infiltrate through the chimneys.

Before long, he entered one of the rooms via a stone corridor. Unlike the chamber where Evelina resided, this place was cold, dark, and filled with cobwebs. A thick layer of dust covered all the abandoned objects. The paintings hanging on the walls were either tilted or had fallen to the ground, shattered.

But it wasn't just a single room; the entire network of hallways and chambers was shrouded in darkness and dust. There was nothing of use.

He searched for a long time but found nothing. Eventually, he descended to the lower floors.

There, a labyrinth of corridors led him to a crypt where countless stone coffins rested. The walls bore ancient engravings, whispering of a forgotten history and legend.

Harold conjured light magic, illuminating the surroundings as he scanned the unreadable inscriptions on the tombstones. For a moment, his heart ached. The silence pressed heavily on his chest.

He murmured to himself:

"Once, these people walked proudly through golden halls, laughing, falling in love, coveting, raging... but now they sleep in the crypts of a forgotten city, as if they never lived at all."

He paused.

"After my death... who will stand over my grave, lost in such thoughts? What will they think of me once I'm gone?"

He exhaled slowly.

"Ah... life is truly strange... You think the world will stop moving after you're gone, but in reality, it's you who can no longer follow its journey."

Harold gazed at the carvings on the stone wall.

In a sky filled with scattered clouds, a dragon soared toward the sun while terrified elves fled into the heart of the mountain. In the next picture, they discovered a massive chasm and built a city within it. Then, they crowned their first elven king.

At a grand ceremony—attended by humans, elves, and even dwarves—the kings of this city were crowned, founding a dynasty in the depths of the earth.

They maintained friendly relations with the dwarven kingdom and became the heart of underground commerce. Their wealth was immense, and they were pioneers of their era's technology.

Harold wanted to see the next pictures, but no more remained. The carvings had faded away.

Under his breath, he murmured,

"And in the end, everything returns to the nothingness..."

He then stood before the coffins and bowed. As he left, the crypt once again sank into darkness, untouched by light for countless years to come.

---

Harold returned to Evelina's room and found the girl wearing small glasses, deeply immersed in an ancient book.

"That girl... she's all that remains of Asryndor."

He watched her in silence, his mind filled with bitter questions.

"Can I really take her with me? Could she have a happy life outside this place?"

His sorrowful eyes followed her as she read the strange symbols on the pages.

"Maybe... I should just ask her."

Taking a piece of paper, he sketched a simple picture of Asryndor, a city within the mountains. Inside, he drew a lone girl. Pointing at Evelina, he said,

"This is you."

Next, he drew a man beside the city.

"And this is me."

In the following picture, he depicted the man and the girl journeying through a long tunnel.

"This is us."

Finally, he drew trees and mountains. Smiling, he said,

"A new life... out there... far from everything... in the mountains... farming..."

As he spoke, he used gestures to help Evelina understand. He smiled the entire time, yet deep down, he knew these dreams weren't for her. They were for himself—desires he had long suppressed.

Then, he looked into the girl's eyes.

Evelina pointed at the first picture and said,

"Me."

Harold was taken aback.

She pointed at herself again and repeated,

"Me."

Then, she pointed at Harold and said,

"You."

She hesitated for a moment, first pointing at herself, then at Harold, as if trying to say something.

Harold watched her. He knew what she was about to say, but he waited. It was like a father hearing his child's first words—a moment that nothing in life could ever compare to.

Finally, she spoke:

"Us"

When her fingertip touched Harold's chest, he felt an unknown force surge through him. Yet, he sensed no actual power—only something indescribable.

He smiled and gently ruffled Evelina's hair.

"That's right... us."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Harold thought that perhaps—just perhaps—he had found a tiny sliver of redemption.

But in that very moment, a thunderous roar shook the entire city.

A chain of violent explosions rumbled through the depths, and Harold came to a grim realization.

In this world, there was no such thing as redemption.