Kael's fingers still gripped the insignia, the cold metal digging into his palm, as if it could somehow keep him connected to the past. The shadows on the walls seemed to stretch, warping with the wavering light of the candle. His thoughts were drifting back to a time when things were different, simpler before the bloodshed, before the rage, before everything shattered.
He could hear her voice now, soft and reassuring, the way it had always been. Ms. Sarai. She had been his teacher, the one who took the role of his mother figure after his real mother's death. The one who had always told him to keep his head up, that his silence could be his strength.
But those words always felt hollow, like a promise that could never be fulfilled.
Kael stood and turned to face the doorway. There, framed in the dim light, stood Ms. Sarai. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her eyes sharp and knowing never seemed to miss anything. She always had that way about her, always watching, always waiting.
"I see you're always alone and quiet, Kael," she said, her voice gentle but carrying an undertone of something more. "But I can't help but wonder... what is it that you're running from?"
Kael didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the insignia in his hand, the memories of his past spinning through his mind like a storm. His grandfather's voice echoed faintly in his thoughts "The Fang never forgets".
The air between them felt thick with the weight of things unsaid. Ms. Sarai stepped closer, her soft footsteps barely making a sound. "You're not the only one with secrets," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "I know what happened to your family, Kael. And I know that you're not as alone as you think."
Kael's heart skipped a beat. Was she just a teacher to him, or was there more to her than he had ever realized? His instincts told him to stay cautious. He didn't trust easily. But something in her gaze made him hesitate. For a moment, he wondered if she was just as trapped by the past as he was.
"You know nothing about me," Kael muttered, though the words felt empty, even to him. His mind flickered back to the night of his mother's death, the night that had set everything in motion. His gaze hardened.
"I know more than you think," Ms. Sarai said softly. "And I also know that you don't have to walk this path alone."
Kael clenched his fist tighter around the insignia. He wanted to tell her to leave, to stop pretending to care, but something stopped him. He couldn't place it, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed to hear more.
But before he could respond, Ms. Sarai stepped back, as though sensing his inner conflict. "I won't push you, Kael. But remember this: There's always a choice. And you don't have to face everything on your own."
Kael stood still for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He didn't know what she truly meant by them, but he felt the quiet pressure of her gaze.
"I don't want your pity," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion.
Ms. Sarai gave him a small, understanding smile. "It's not pity, Kael. It's just... understanding."
She turned to leave, her footsteps soft but purposeful. Before she disappeared into the hallway, she paused.
"If you ever need someone to talk to," she said, her voice quiet, "I'll be here."
The door closed behind her with a soft click, and Kael was left standing in the room, the insignia still clutched tightly in his hand. He didn't know why, but something in his chest felt... lighter. It was an unfamiliar sensation, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought.