Ere woke in the middle of the night.
That meant he had been out for at least a full day. For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling, letting the weight of his body return to him.
Then he looked down.
Bandages, from his shoulders to his toes, nearly every visible part of him had been carefully wrapped. Clean. Dry. Not a single trace of blood remained.
That should not have been possible. The wounds he had taken were far deeper than something that could heal this quickly.
He paused at that thought, then slowly looked around the room.
Janna was asleep beside his bed, her head resting against the edge of the mattress, one hand still lightly placed near his arm, as if she had fallen asleep making sure he was still breathing. Mika sat closer to the door on a wooden chair that looked far too uncomfortable for a full night's rest. His arms were folded, his head lowered. Even in sleep, his posture carried tension, as though he had refused himself the right to truly rest.
They both looked exhausted.
For a long moment, Ere said nothing. Then he slowly closed his eyes again, careful not to make the slightest sound.
He did not want to wake them.
Lying there, a thought came to him—one he had never truly allowed himself before.
Why had he been so cold with them?
Why had he found it so difficult to offer even something as small as a smile to the people who had lived for him… and nearly died for him?
Why was he forcing the weight of his past onto their shoulders?
They did not deserve that.
And then—
he was there again.
That dark place in his mind. Silent. Endless. Colorless.
Ere found himself seated once more, back to back with his thoughts—the presence he had never managed to see.
It spoke immediately.
"So you think this life is yours."
Its voice was calm.
Sharp.
"Do you plan to stay here in the village, accept your new parents, and live peacefully?"
Ere remained silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"That is not it."
He lowered his gaze. "They deserve far more than the version of me I have been giving them. Warmer interactions. A more caring son."
The figure fell silent.
Then the darkness shifted.
It reshaped itself into memory.
His memory.
One he had never wished to see again.
He saw himself—bleeding, coughing blood onto cold stone. Not from battle. Not from monsters.
From humans.
Cruel hands. Cruel eyes. People who saw labor in him and nothing else.
A boy.
Beaten like discarded trash. No one stepped in, defended him or even cared.
The memory faded.
The figure spoke again.
"Every time you hold feelings for someone… every time you allow gratitude to take root… you get hurt."
Its voice deepened.
"It makes you weaker. Vulnerable."
Then it asked:
"What is it that you seek?"
Ere answered without hesitation.
"I seek power."
"Power to change fate."
"I want to shape my future instead of letting it shape me."
He turned slightly toward the darkness behind him.
"But for now… I want to live the moment."
"I do not believe these feelings will hold me back."
"I believe they are the reason I want to move forward."
Silence. Longer this time.
For so long, living had only ever felt like continuation—a second chance with no hope for tomorrow, no belief in change.
Just existence.
But these past few years… they had changed something in him. He still did not feel much toward most people. The world still often looked distant.
Black and white.
But Janna and Mika were different. He had grown attached to their presence. To the feeling of them being near. He acted as if he did not care. As if nothing reached him. But perhaps that had never been the full truth.
If he woke tomorrow and they were no longer there… He was no longer certain what would remain of him. That realization settled heavily in his chest.
The shadow behind him remained calm.
Then it spoke once more.
"People will hold you back. That you will learn."
"They will make you weaker. That you will experience."
"If they do not hurt you directly…"
"They will hurt you another way."
A pause.
A quiet, fading breath.
"We will meet again."
The dark place began to dissolve, but Ere's decision had already been made. He could not change overnight—not the way he spoke, not the cold distance he carried—but perhaps he could try. Wounds did not heal easily; they shaped people, and his had shaped him into someone who saw the world without color. And yet, Janna and Mika were beginning to show him what he had been missing.
For now, that was enough. At the very least, he owed them gratitude.
He closed his eyes.
When he woke again, morning light spilled softly into the room. The smell reached him first—eggs, fresh bread, warm and familiar. Nothing could rival that.
Janna was already by the fire, quietly preparing breakfast. Mika stood nearby, patiently waiting, teasing her with light remarks in an obvious attempt to ease the worry still lingering on her face.
For a moment, Ere simply watched them.
Then he slowly sat up.
"Good morning."
His voice came out calm.
But this time—
it carried something more.
He got out of bed carefully. Janna immediately moved to help him, her hands gentle as she checked his wounds, removing the bandages one by one. When she finished, only a few remained around his stomach and left arm.
Ere looked at her.
Then at Mika.
And this time—
he smiled.
Not because he thought he should.
Because he wanted to.
"Janna…"
"I'm sorry I worried you."
"And thank you for taking care of me."
He turned to Mika.
"I don't know what I would have done without your help. I'm really sorry I ran away."
"Thank you for being there."
The words were still simple.
But this time—
they were real.
Mika's eyes widened in surprise before his face broke into an excited smile.
"Ere…"
"We love you so much… but that doesn't mean you're not grounded."
Before Ere could respond, Janna pulled him into a tight embrace, squeezing him so firmly it nearly forced the air from his lungs.
It almost hurt.
But strangely—
it made him feel better.
Even if his expression did not fully show it…
for the first time in a very long while,
Ere felt something he had almost forgotten.
He was glad to be alive.