"Leo's going to be at the seaport," Aira's voice was grim, resolute. The hunt was on.
Jean, his mind snapping back into grim focus, immediately ran to the unconscious Priya, gently scooping her into his arms. He followed Aira out of the guest house, their footsteps hurried and desperate. They wouldn't get there immediately, or so easily.
The guest house was tucked deep within the heart of the forest, a natural fortress, and there wasn't a carriage in sight.
Just outside the guest house, Jean tried his teleportation again, a desperate, futile attempt. His feet merely buckled beneath him with a loud, mental thud, dropping Priya unceremoniously to the ground. He groaned, the sheer exhaustion and depletion of his Aura making even basic movement an effort.
Aira, without a word, bent down and effortlessly scooped Priya into her own arms. The little girl still seemed utterly unbothered by the chaos, still fast asleep or deeply unconscious; it was confusing how peacefully she rested amidst such turmoil. Aira then extended her free hand, pulling Jean up with surprising ease.
"Don't push yourself too hard," Aira consoled, her voice softer than usual. She gave him a loving glance, a look rarely exchanged between them, usually hidden beneath layers of shared trauma and grim resolve. But now, that glance softened into a romantic stare, acknowledging the unspoken connection that spanned countless cycles.
Aira knew what Jean had been through today, the depths of his despair. She could relate. He had always tried to stand as a father figure for the alleged adopted anomaly, Leo, and his planned daughter, Priya. But with this endless cycle of rebirth, it had always been a struggle. How did it feel to watch your kids die in front of you more than five times? It was truly hard for Jean.
As for Aira, you could say she was as calm as a demon, not as calm as a dove. There was a subtle yet significant difference. Aira got used to things frighteningly quick, a trait most found unusual. Her views of the world were different; she believed everything would ultimately work out when there was a plan.
'The world's a white canvas... we're the artists... let's draw what we wish to draw.'
That was one of her favorite quotes, a testament to her unyielding will to bend reality to her desires. But looks like she was becoming desperate rather than tactical in this cycle, a deviation that worried even her.
Jean could sense it, and he was genuinely concerned about Aira's mental state. In turn, Aira was also concerned about Jean's emotional state. No matter how much they both tried to ignore it, they loved each other, and there was nothing that could change that, even the endless, brutal cycles of rebirth.
****
After a while of awkward staring, the unspoken weight of their shared affection hanging in the air, Aira finally snapped back into reality, cutting the romantic moment short.
"We should get going," she said, her voice regaining its usual firm resolve, and started moving, Priya nestled safely in her arms.
'Not now, Jean, but sooner,' she thought to herself, a quiet promise for a future they both desperately craved.
Jean, his own mind refocusing on the mission, followed her, his steps still heavy but determined. To get to the seaport would take a lot of time on foot, and it wasn't even certain they'd get there in time to rescue Leo, especially with the added burden of an unconscious girl. There was still no carriage in sight, amplifying their disadvantage.
After a while of pushing themselves, they got back to the front of the Melanthos Mansion. Ignoring it like it wasn't their home, a place of past triumphs and fresh wounds, they moved forward, leaving the wreckage behind.
They moved into the ruined streets of Eldoria. The grand thoroughfares, once bustling with life, were now a chaotic tableau of the recent riot. Overturned market stalls lay smashed, their goods scattered and spoiled across the cobblestones. Charred marks marred the facades of once-elegant buildings, some with gaping holes where Aura blasts had torn through them. Debris — splintered wood, broken pottery, discarded weapons — littered the pathways, making every step treacherous. The distant wail of alarms, now muted, still echoed faintly, a ghostly reminder of the recent violence.
Most shops had their windows shattered, their contents either looted or left exposed to the elements. Here and there, the still forms of fallen Dormants and Ascendants lay unattended, stark reminders of the bloody conflict that had just swept through.
They pressed on, passing in front of the High Court, a colossal edifice of white marble that still seemed remarkably unshaken by the war's immediate aftermath. Its imposing structure stood testament to a power that transcended the street-level chaos. The seaport was still at the very end of the northern side of Eldoria. Getting to the High Court meant it would only take them less than fifteen minutes to reach their destination.
'Leo... we are coming!' Aira thought, a fierce vow burning in her heart.
****
Leo woke up to find himself inside a room. It was a ship-like room, small and sparsely furnished, with a low ceiling and walls made of polished, dark wood paneling that creaked gently with the rhythm of movement. A single, small circular window, like a porthole, was set high on one wall, letting in a sliver of grey light. The air tasted salty and damp, carrying the faint scent of the sea.
He slowly pushed himself up from a narrow cot, his head throbbing, a dull echo of the unseen attack. He moved to the small window, drawn by an inexplicable urge. He peered outside, and the only thing he could see was an endless expanse of churning, grey water stretching to the horizon.
He was in a ship. In the middle of the sea!
Wait! Were those more ships? As his eyes adjusted, he saw them – silhouettes against the distant, hazy horizon. Different ships swarmed into view from various directions, converging as if on a pre-arranged rendezvous point. He was surprised; the sheer number was daunting.
The heavy, metallic door to the room opened with a soft clunk, and Sophia entered. She stepped in, her expression unreadable, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Hmmm... you're awake," she purred, her voice deceptively soft.
"Where are we going?" Leo asked, his young voice surprisingly steady despite his fear.
Sophia's smile widened, a chilling, triumphant curve.
"Where you'll become the king."