WHISPERS BESIDE A SILENT HEART
The atmosphere in the medical ward was quiet—eerily quiet.
Only the rhythmic pulse of glowing runes on the walls broke the silence, their gentle hum syncing with the slow, shallow breaths of the boy lying on the cot. Arslan's brow was pale and damp, strands of dark hair stuck to his forehead. He hadn't moved in hours.
He lay unconscious, yet even in sleep, there was a frown on his face, as if battling something far deeper than fever.
The door creaked softly.
Nirela stepped inside, cautiously, with a small flask of warm tea clasped between her hands. Her boots made no sound on the cold marble floor. Her fingers were trembling slightly. She looked at him—still, unmoving, wrapped in a white blanket.
> "You look so tired," she whispered, voice cracking. "Why are you like this, Arslan?"
She pulled a stool close to his side and gently sat down. After a long pause, she reached forward and took his hand.
It was cold.
She carefully clasped it in both of hers, trying to offer the warmth he no longer held.
> "Arslan…" her voice trembled. "I know you're hiding something. I could see it in your eyes before all of this happened."
Her gaze dropped, as a tear slid quietly down her cheek.
> "You don't hate us. I know you don't. But something inside you—something—keeps pushing people away... and I don't understand why."
> "You said those things to me, and I tried to believe I didn't care. But I do. And I know you didn't mean them."
Her grip tightened slightly.
> "Just wake up. Please… say something. I don't care if it's harsh—I just want to know you're still here."
As she sat in silence, brushing her thumb across his knuckles, the medical ward door creaked again.
Yuna peeked inside. She didn't say anything at first, just watched the quiet scene from the doorway.
Then, gently, she stepped in.
> "Hey…" Yuna whispered as she leaned down next to Nirela.
Nirela didn't lift her head.
Yuna looked at Arslan, then back at her.
> "He said sorry to Seris and Tharion," she whispered.
> "What…?" Nirela slowly turned her head, eyes wide.
Yuna nodded gently.
> "Before he passed out again. He apologized. Really, truly did."
A sigh of emotion caught in Nirela's chest.
> "So… he's still trying."
Yuna smiled faintly. "I think he is."
> "You think… he'll ever…" Nirela's voice broke again.
Yuna didn't let her finish.
She smiled softly, leaned down, and whispered,
> "I think… one day, he'll stand beside you. You just have to wait."
Nirela bit her lip and looked down at Arslan's peaceful face. Her eyes shimmered with relief. Her shoulders relaxed. She nodded slowly, silently—just a small motion of hope.
Then both girls stood.
Yuna gently brushed the blanket near Arslan's chest before turning back.
They walked out of the room together, leaving him in quiet peace once more.
From deep within Arslan's soul, Kar'Thæl observed.
He hadn't spoken since the night Arslan collapsed.
He didn't train him. Didn't guide him.
But now, hearing Nirela's voice… hearing her care, her patience, her sorrow… Kar'Thæl stood still within the dark mental plane that bound him to his Vessel.
> "You fool," he thought to Arslan. "You think cutting bonds will protect them... but all you've done is hurt yourself."
> "She cares. They all do. You don't need to carry this world alone."
Kar'Thæl lowered his head slightly. Even the demonic shadow of his form looked weary.
> "You need them, Arslan… You need them more than you admit."
He looked through Arslan's senses, watching the door slowly close as Nirela and Yuna left.
The ward was quiet again.
But something shifted in the air.
---
Late Afternoon:
A moment later—suddenly—
WAAAAAOOOOOHHH!!!
The peaceful silence was shattered.
The sirens across the city of Lumisgrave began to blare—sharp, rapid bursts followed by deep echoing roars that shook the ground.
The lights in the hallway beyond the ward flickered to red emergency mode.
Voices rose in panic.
Boots thundered down corridors.
Across the Mythic Base and beyond, alarm signals rose, signaling danger—another Gate had been breached.
But in the Medical Ward… Arslan still lay unconscious.
Still breathing.
Still unaware.
Kar'Thæl's mind raced as he felt the vibrations and magic pulse of the alarm.
> "Not now… He's not ready…"
A flicker of worry crossed the ancient entity's mind.
> "If he doesn't wake up soon… the others will fall without him…"
The scene froze with Arslan unconscious under the medical ward's enchanted lights—his allies preparing to fight, and the world outside trembling under the weight of yet another invasion.
But within Arslan… a fire still waited to be rekindled.
A bond still waited to be mended.
And a world still waited to be saved.