Understanding

Stareeee

They stood still, staring at each other.

"Why are you standing up?!" Helaine yelled, her voice sharp with frustration. She rushed toward Evryn.

Not good.

Before he could react, she grabbed him and forced him back onto the bed. "You're still injured! You can't just be getting up like that!" She punctuated her scolding by pulling his ear.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Evryn yelped. "I get it, alright?!"

Helaine finally let go, crossing her arms. "Good."

Evryn rubbed his ear. "I feel fine, though. I can walk around and move just fine."

"That doesn't matter!" she snapped. "You were found unconscious, surrounded by bodies, completely messed up!"

Evryn fell silent, accepting defeat.

Helaine's glare didn't waver. "You were lying there with blood all over your face! As if you drained your own life force!"

Evryn remained quiet, not even attempting to argue back. She was right—there was nothing he could say to counter it.

Helaine's voice softened, but only slightly. "Do you even remember what happened?"

He exhaled and thought for a moment. "I remember killing them. Fighting another guy. Pushing my body past its limits. I even coughed up blood… my eyes were bleeding too."

For a moment, Helaine just stared at him. Then, without warning, she lunged at him and began choking him.

"You can't just say that so casually!"

"Agh—!" Evryn flailed, tapping her arm in surrender.

Helaine huffed and finally let go. "Sorry."

Evryn gasped for air, rubbing his throat. "It's fine…"

She sighed, resting her head on her arm as she watched him. "So you coughed up blood, bled from your eyes, and just—lost a ridiculous amount of blood…"

"Yeah."

"Hm." Helaine closed her eyes for a second before speaking again. "Looks like you're an Aether wielder now. Or, as others like to call us, Veydrans. From what that little girl told us, you fought like a monster."

Evryn froze. The words little girl hit him harder than they should have. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened—it made him feel like he was something else, something not himself.

"But besides that, you said you were bleeding a lot…"

"Yeah."

"That's because you pushed yourself too far," Helaine explained, her voice steady but with an edge of concern. "Us Aether Wielders can only use so much at a time. If you push past that limit, you start draining your life force…" She paused, her gaze drifting off before continuing, "When you push it too far, you can bleed from your nose, cough up blood, or even bleed from your eyes. And if you go even further… you can end up like a dried, burnt-out shell."

Evryn listened intently, noticing the hint of frustration in her voice—presumably because she was upset with him for pushing himself beyond his limits.

"Well, can't you… I don't know, get more energy somehow?" Evryn asked, still trying to understand it all.

Helaine lowered her gaze to the bed, fiddling with her nails. "You can, but it takes time and a lot of training to master Aether. If you become a master, you'll be a force to reckon with. But there's a catch—we all have limits. Some can produce more damage, while others have the potential to output more, like… destroying entire cities or even entire planets." She paused, letting her words sink in. "But those cases are rare. You don't want to fight someone like that."

Evryn's heart skipped a beat. Planet-level destruction? The idea thrilled him, and he couldn't fully understand why. He wasn't sure if it was the power itself that excited him or the thought of what it would mean.

"So, what do you call those people?" he asked, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

"Well," Helaine began, "there are the Veydrans, like us—regular Aether Wielders. Then, there are the Harbingers, those who can level entire cities. And the rarest of all, the Worldrendors—those capable of destroying entire planets. The last group is the most dangerous, but thankfully, incredibly rare."

"I see…" Evryn replied, still processing the information.

"But you're nowhere near that level," Helaine continued, her tone shifting slightly. "It seems Aether has only just recently revealed itself to you."

Evryn hesitated. "So… don't go around doing something stupid like that again, or I'll make sure your life is hell."

With no warning, Helaine tightly pinched Evryn's thigh.

"Ouch, ouch! Okay! I got it!"

"Good." A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Evryn couldn't help but think to himself: She seriously needs keep her hands to herself. Same goes for Garran, too…

From all this talking, conversation, and distraction, it finally dawned on Evryn.

Mira.

Where is she?

Evryn pushed himself up immediately, his body protesting with pain, but his concern overriding everything else. "Where is Mira? Is she alright?"

"Who's Mira?"

"The brown-haired girl with green eyes!"

"Relax, I don't know who you're talking about."

"No! I need to go see if she's okay!"

"No," Helaine said, pushing him back down. "You need to rest. Get up again, and I'm punching you."

Evryn's chest tightened, but he knew he was in no condition to fight her. His body was drained, but his mind was still racing. He had to make sure she was safe.

Evryn let out a deep sigh, his voice softening. "Okay… I'll lay here. You're right," he said, forcing a small smile, as if accepting defeat. His hand moved to lightly rest on Helaine's, though his mind was far from calm. "I am feeling tired anyway. I should rest and worry about the other stuff later."

Helaine nodded, satisfied with his response. "Good. I'll be back later. You better not move, or I swear I'll—"

"I understand," Evryn cut her off, maintaining the soft smile.

Helaine gave him a quick glance before heading toward the door, opening it just enough to slip through. The door shut behind her with a soft thud.

Evryn waited a few moments, pretending to relax, feeling the heaviness in his chest settle as if he were truly resting. The second the silence hit, his eyes snapped open.

***

Garran stood alone in a grassy field, not far from the remnants of the village—what was left of it. The once-thriving refuge, now reduced to ashes and rubble. The charred remains of buildings lay scattered, some collapsed entirely while others remained standing in a fractured, hollow state. The air felt heavy with the weight of loss.

His dark blond hair, untied and tossed by the wind, brushed against his face, the strands carrying the scent of burnt wood. His blue eyes, deep with sorrow, stared at the ruin before him, lost in thought.

He remembered the first time he had founded this place—a sanctuary for those seeking peace, escaping the galaxy's turmoil, or simply looking to start over. It had been a place of hope, a dream come true for many. But now, it was all gone.

The night had been long, spent burying the villagers who perished in the chaos. Some were the elderly, the very first to arrive and settle here, their lives lost. Garran stood over their graves, the weight of his failure pressing on his chest.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he looked down at the ground, lost in the gravity of what had happened.

"Garran."

He turned to see Cyrus approaching, standing a few feet away, his expression somber.

"What is it?" Garran asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"I'm sorry—" Cyrus began, but was immediately cut off.

"No need to apologize. This wasn't your doing, and no one's at fault here," Garran replied, his tone firm, though tinged with sadness. "Right now, we need to regroup, rebuild what's left of this place, and start anew. You and your friends can do as you wish, but these people… they still need me."

Cyrus nodded quietly, understanding the weight of Garran's words.

"They'll most likely be back," Garran murmured, his gaze distant as he stared out at the destruction. "I should've known this day would come eventually. But still… I wasn't ready for it."