The Echoes of Silence

Quickly the light in Andravion's eyes that didn't get to stay and settle disappeared and in it's place the usual cold glint weary and cautious. The hilt of the sword he had just let go off a few moments ago was swiftly drawn out, smoothly like it was an extension of him. Raised and ready to meet his enemy's neck.

Instead what revealed itself was nothing either of them expected.

Small, puffball-like creatures tumbled out of the underbrush and dropped lazily from the trees above. Their movements were slow, dreamlike—almost as if they were floating rather than walking. Some had tiny arms outstretched as though greeting old friends; others simply stared with wide, glowing eyes that shimmered like the dusk-lit sea.

They didn't seem threatening—at least, not in the conventional sense. But there was something off about them. Their smiles were too wide. Their heads tilted at odd, curious angles, like they were listening to music no one else could hear.

What are they?

Is this some kind of disguise to make their prey drop their guard?

I've been a fool.

A soft mocking scoff. Open arms indeed.

Andravion looked confused but still didn't give up his guard. "Stay back!

Haleel comes up to him from behind and says softly though he's also tense. "Vion, hold on. Look at them do they look like they want to harm us. He paused briefly "So why must we raise our sword without much thought. Remember what I said. Open arms."

"This could be a disguise. A trick to make us drop out guard and when we do it would be too late."

"Open your eyes damnit! You're no spring chick that just hatched."

"And if it's not? What if they are actually just as harmless as they look?"

Andravion's gaze shifted from Haleel to the creatures. Minutes passed and his instinct and rationality warring with his heart before eventually he heaved a reluctant sigh and gruffly let out. "We're only here for food."

At the mention of food, the creatures huddled a bit closer seeming enthusiastic about something. But Andravion noticing barked coldly pointing his sword at them, ready to swing at any moment but slightly refraining. "I have six hundred men waiting for us to show our faces and if we don't." He paused, his voice turned low and grim. " They will turn this place into nothing but ash."

Then calmly, one of them reached forward with a stubby hand, offering what looked like a glistening petal with a purr almost like it's saying "Here you go" or was it a piece of fruit? The air around it smelled sweet, intoxicating, and almost made Andravion forget why he had drawn his sword in the first place.

Haleel's eyes lit up at the gesture, his lips curling into a bright, boyish smile. "See? That's exactly what I mean." He motioned toward the creature's outstretched hand. "We threatened to burn their home down, and they still offered us food. That's not weakness, Vion, that's grace."

He nudged Andravion gently with his elbow. "So stop scowling like the world is about to rip something from you. Sometimes it just wants to feed you. Let it help you. Take what's offered… with open arms."

Without waiting for approval, Haleel reached for the fruit, holding it up like a prize. "Cheers to kindness," he said with a wink—and just as he tilted it toward his mouth, Andravion's hand shot out and snatched it away.

"Hold up up Hal, somethings up." He murmured as he closely looked at the fruit. Then finally it clicked in his head.

He began with a sigh "I want to believe you.i really do. But look, It's not like any regular fruit we've seen. It's glowing. The seeds as well. Did you even stop think why, before you swallowed with open arms?"

He asked before answering himself "It took me a while but I noticed just in time. These are Esprits and these are the fruits that they eat which controls your mind and leaves you in a euphoric haze that'll never clear." He then threw it on the ground and looked at it with spite.

"See? If you trust so blindly and open arms like some candy eyed lad, this is what you could get in return." He finished coldly.

Haleel didn't flinch. He simply turned toward the Esprits, crouching low to meet them at eye level. His voice was gentle, but clear.

"Hello there, little Esprits. My friend thinks kindness is a flaw but I think it's brave."

He smiled softly.

"Help me prove it. Can you show us where to find real food?"

For a long moment, the Esprits just stared. Then, in eerie harmony, they began to hum—soft, melodic, like a lullaby echoing from a cave. One cocked its head and mimicked Haleel's voice perfecty.

"Kindness… is brave…"

They giggled. The sound was high and light, like bells being shaken in the distance. One turned, pointed a stubby finger toward the thick underbrush, then scampered off with surprising grace. "Cave.... Scary cave.... Food....That way."

Haleel rose, beaming. "Thank you my adorable friends."

As if in response, they purred and giggled and waved them goodbye before disappearing back into the forest's thick foliage.

"You know," Haleel said softly, coming back to stand beside him, "this life… it can still be amazing as long as we believe it and will it."

Andravion didn't respond.

Haleel continued anyway, voice calm, hopeful. "You carry too much guilt. I see it every time you try to smile but it never quite reaches your eyes. But guilt doesn't have to be the only thing in your heart."

That made Andravion glance at him.

"So replace it," Haleel said. "Not with lies or blind hope—but with something lighter. Something true. A small step. A new start."

He paused, his voice dropping to something warmer, brighter.

"Greet the world with open arms, Vion. That's how it begins."

"And if you ever feel lost, or don't know how to let the world in…" Haleel paused, his voice softer now. "Don't worry. I'll always be here to remind you."

He finished with a light, quiet smile—one that felt like sunlight breaking through cloud.

The smile lingered—for a second, maybe two—before the memory gave way to silence.

Andravion blinked, and the warm hues of that distant moment bled into the cold, muted light of the present. The soft halo that had once surrounded Haleel as he spoke—the wind that had danced so gently through that memory—was gone.

In its place was blood.

The grass below him was slick with it. And Haleel—his beacon, his brother—lay still, painting the earth red.

Andravion was stunned, more than that he was mortifies.

He didn't move.

He couldn't.

The voice that had comforted him mere moments ago, that had promised "I'll always be here", now faded like a dream chased off by the wind, replaced by silence. A silence that screamed.