The children felt alone and powerless. Kalin looked up at his older sister, tears brimming in his eyes. "What do we do now, Leora?"
Leora, who tried so hard to stay strong, felt her heart clench with fear. Dark thoughts began creeping into her small mind. She imagined the monsters that attacked Arion in the forest were still following them.
"Look, Kalin!" Leora gasped, pointing into the darkness. "It's coming! A giant monster!"
In Leora's fear-exhausted mind, the shadows took shape. She saw a massive black beast, larger than anything she'd ever known, devouring Arion—dragging him into the depths of the shadows. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she screamed: "No! Don't take him! Stay away from my brother!"
Kalin, already trembling, followed her gaze. His own fear conjured its own horrors. He didn't see Leora's monster—he saw something worse.
"A worm! A giant worm!" Kalin cried, pointing his shaking finger toward the city walls. "Look, Leora! It's destroying the city! It's going to eat us too!"
In Kalin's terrified mind, a massive worm with jagged teeth burst from beneath the earth, devouring stone walls, toppling towers, creeping closer and closer. He screamed and wept: "The city's breaking! We have to run! We have to run!"
The children sat beside Arion's unconscious body, crying and screaming—each lost in their own nightmare—while the darkness wrapped around them. Their faint cries vanished into the silent night, as if no one could hear them.
---
And then, in the depths of their despair, something unexpected happened. They heard a faint sound—like a heavy lock turning. Slowly, one of the city's smaller side gates, hidden beside the towering main gate, began to open.
A young woman stepped out from behind the door, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, her green eyes glinting in the gloom. She wore a clean white robe, marked with a strange emblem. She was the city's chief healer—Elyan.
By chance, Elyan had been near the walls, doing a routine check before the gates were sealed for the night. She had heard the children's faint cries and, driven by worry and curiosity, had come to investigate.
When she saw Leora and Kalin screaming beside Arion's limp body, her eyes widened. She rushed forward and instantly saw the children were trapped in a waking nightmare.
"Hush now, little ones," Elyan said softly, stretching out her hands.
As she drew near, Elyan saw the terror frozen in the children's eyes. She realized they were seeing something that wasn't there. She raised her hands gently, and a faint white glow spread from her palms.
Fshooo~
[Purification Magic: Dispel Illusions]
The soft white light wrapped around the children like a transparent veil. The giant monsters vanished. The devouring worm faded away. The walls returned to normal. The children's screams fell silent as they looked around, bewildered—then down at Arion lying motionless at their feet.
"What happened?" Kalin whispered.
"It was just a bad dream," Elyan said with a reassuring smile. "There are no monsters here. You're safe now."
She placed her hands gently on Leora's and Kalin's heads. A soft green light glowed, washing warmth and calm through their small bodies. The fear and exhaustion melted away.
[Healing Applied: Leora & Kalin]
"Come with me," Elyan said, motioning them through the gate. "I'll take you somewhere safe."
The children looked at Arion. "Brother!" Leora cried.
"Don't worry," Elyan said firmly. "I'll take care of him too. But we need to move quickly."
With the help of a few soldiers who had arrived after Elyan's call, they carefully lifted Arion and carried him through the gate. Elyan followed closely, her eyes scanning Arion's battered body. His bruises and wounds were deep—he had clearly endured more than most could bear.
They reached Elyan's private clinic—a clean, well-lit room filled with medical beds and healing tools. Elyan laid Arion on a bed and began treating his wounds, stopping the bleeding and restoring his strength with her magic.
Curiosity burned in Elyan's mind. How did they end up here in this condition? Why hadn't they used a cart if the city was so far? Suspicion hovered—was he a fugitive? A criminal? Or just a victim of some unseen horror? She kept these questions to herself. She didn't want to frighten the children any further. She simply waited, patient and watchful—for Arion to wake and give her answers.
---
A day passed. Then another. Then a third. Days blurred into a week, then another. Arion remained asleep. His body lay still on the clinic bed—breathing steadily but his eyes never opened.
In the first days, Leora and Kalin were full of hope. They sat by Arion's side, telling him about little adventures they'd seen in the new city.
"Brother, will you wake up and tell us about the evil tree?" Kalin asked, his small eyes fixed on Arion's pale face.
"Of course, Kalin!" Leora said, trying so hard to sound confident. "Brother is strong. He's just very tired from our journey. He'll wake up soon—and we'll explore the city together!"
Elyan, the healer, let them stay in the clinic, giving them food and shelter. Her kindness brought some warmth to their tiny hearts—but the worry always crept back in.
By the fourth day, their smiles faded. At night, Leora would slip to Arion's side, gripping his cold hand and whispering through hidden tears: "Please, brother… wake up. I'm scared."
Kalin, too young to grasp the full weight of it, started to grow restless. He asked Elyan again and again, "When will brother wake up? Is he very sick?"
By the sixth day, Kalin rarely approached Arion's bed. He spent most of his time playing with the wooden toys Arion had carved for him—avoiding his brother's silent face. He was afraid to remember the nightmare at the city gate—that the darkness had already devoured Arion.
Leora, unlike Kalin, grew more and more worried. She saw how pale Arion's face was. She realized his sleep wasn't just exhaustion. She began sneaking to Elyan's office, eavesdropping on quiet conversations with soldiers or other healers. She heard words like "coma," "no sign of improvement," and "it's strange he's even alive after all that."
Each word struck her tiny heart like ice. She imagined the worst—would she lose Arion too, just like she'd lost her parents? The thought haunted her every waking moment. She tried to be strong for Kalin—but her eyes were always heavy with tears she never let fall. She carried a burden far too heavy for her small shoulders.
Elyan, the young healer, watched Arion closely. In the first days, she was amazed at how fast his wounds closed under her magic. But his endless sleep was a riddle. She'd treated many wounded fighters—she had never seen someone sleep so long without a flicker of waking.
"He's clearly not sick anymore," she murmured to herself on the fourth day, checking his pulse. "His body's healing perfectly. But his mind… his mind won't wake."
Her curiosity grew. Who was this stranger who collapsed at the city gates, carrying two children through hell? Why no wagon, despite the distance? Suspicion lingered—fugitive, criminal, victim? Elyan said nothing, not wanting to feed the children's fear.
Days turned into weeks. By the end of the second week, Elyan sat at Arion's bedside, sighing deeply.
"Dear gods..." she whispered. "No signs of waking. No response to anything. Best case—it's a long sleep. Worst case… he may never wake."
The other healers she'd consulted only deepened her despair. His body was alive—but his spirit was missing.
She cared for the children as best she could, giving them food and shelter. But she felt the weight—Arion was their only guardian. If he never woke, what would become of them? She couldn't keep them in her clinic forever.
At the end of the second week, Elyan resigned herself to the idea that Arion might never return. She watched the children playing in silence, her heart aching—not just for the man lying still before her, but for the uncertain fate awaiting two innocent souls.
"What can be done?" she thought helplessly. "No magic can reach into a mind like this and pull it back."
The clinic was filled with a quiet despair. The soft laughter of children was no longer enough to push away the growing shadow. Arion slept on—his inner world perhaps louder and darker than the forest he fled.
The city's gate loomed behind them like a giant maw, swallowing them into an uncertain future. Arion had fallen before it, his battered body too weak to hold a spirit burning with rage and resolve. The last image scorched into his mind was Malakai's twisted face—and Leora's and Kalin's terrified cries.