"Aah… I can't… I can't take this pain anymore… I want water…"
A small, trembling voice echoed in a void of endless darkness.
Then — a soft glow. A gentle hand touched his forehead.
"No, child… you'll be okay."
The voice was warm, motherly. The darkness faded like smoke being carried away by wind.
Now he was in a small wooden room — everything simple, everything real. Clothes hung
from a cord near the ceiling. A little vase sat by the window. On the wall, a framed photo of a
smiling couple… and a little girl standing between them.
"Mom, who is he?"
A young girl's voice — sweet, curious.
"From now on… he is your brother."
The world shifted again.
He was outside now, playing beneath a clear sky. Laughter. Dusty feet. Small hands holding
his. The girl was smiling — bright as summer.
"Ava! I won't play with you anymore! You're cheating!"
He ran away but tripped and fell, bursting into tears.
The girl rushed to him, lifting his head gently onto her lap.
"Nothing happened… see? I'm here. Everything will be okay."
And then the warmth was gone.
The room returned — but now cold, heavy.
Aunt Lily lay still in her bed, breathless, lifeless.
The boy clung to her hand, screaming in broken sobs.
Behind him, Ava held him tightly, trembling as her own tears soaked his back.
The scene melted again.
A hospital corridor.
The smell of medicine.
A heartbeat monitor slowing.
"Always trust yourself," Ava's fading voice echoed through him.
"You are the most precious thing I have…"
The light dimmed — fading into silence — until a familiar voice suddenly cut through:
"Ignis, wake up. What are you murmuring? Are you feeling okay?"
"Ava!"
Ignis jolted upright, gasping — sweat streaming down his cheeks like rain on glass. For a
moment he wasn't sure if he was still dreaming. His eyes darted around, searching for that
small, warm house… that laughter… that voice.
But no — only the cold white walls of the infirmary.
Reality settled on him like a crushing weight. If only the dream were the truth… if only this
world were the illusion.
His blurred vision sharpened.
Chief Minata stood at the door, hands folded, her face unreadable.
Erina, Butch, and a handful of askers surrounded his bedside, silently holding their breath.
Commander Swartz leaned against the wall, arms crossed — looking away as if he didn't
care… yet his clenched jaw betrayed him.
And Captain Clement — strict, cold, relentless during training — was standing stiffly at the
entrance, his eyes red-rimmed, his entire posture trembling with the fear of losing one of his
own children.
Ignis swallowed, his throat burning. He breathed once, twice, trying to speak calmly—
"Is she… alive? Or…"
But the words shattered halfway.
Suddenly the calm tore open like a wound.
"IS SHE DEAD!?"
His voice cracked — not like a soldier, not like a fighter — but like a lost child searching for
the only warmth he had left in this world.
Tears poured down uncontrollably.
"Please… tell me… do I lose my sister?"
His hands clutched the bedsheet so hard his knuckles turned white.
"No… no, no… don't tell me she's gone… please—"
Chief Minata stepped closer and gently held Ignis's trembling hands. Her face was stern —
but her eyes were heavy with something unspoken.
Her voice came out slow, cold and steady, as if each word carried the power to stop a heart.
"Your sister, Ava Brackelen… is not dead."
Ignis's breath caught.
"Then— then where is she!? I want to meet her!"
His voice broke from shock and desperation.
He saw her bleeding… he felt her falling…
How could a corpse still breathe?
Minata didn't flinch.
She continued,
"Every member of the Brackelen bloodline carries a gift —
'The Square of Immortal Lives.'
They are natural healers. Their bodies refuse death four times… so long as the head
remains intact."
Ignis stared, wide-eyed — disbelief warring with hope.
"It does not work against illness or old age… only against mortal wounds," Minata went on.
"But the healing is brutal. It tears the body apart and rebuilds it from within. The pain alone
often forces the bearer into a coma — sometimes… their mind never wakes again."
The room fell quiet.
"But your sister…" Minata finally softened, just a little,
"…is stable. The doctors say her coma is temporary. Her mind will return — given time."
Ignis didn't speak. His lips trembled. Relief crashed into him like a tidal wave — but fear still
lurked behind it.
Minata squeezed his hands slightly.
"That's all I needed to tell you. Now…"
Her voice lowered.
"…what about you, Ignis? Are you alright?"
Ignis's breath was still uneven, but he forced himself upright.
"I'm… alright," he murmured, though his voice betrayed exhaustion.
He hesitated — then looked toward Minata and asked softly,
"Can I see her?"
Before the Chief could respond, Swartz finally spoke — his tone flat as always, but his eyes
sharp and reading every part of Ignis's expression.
"She's here. Same hospital. And since you're conscious and not dying, you're fit for duty."
He turned toward the door.
"So hurry up and get dressed. You rejoin today."
He didn't wait for a reply.
Chief Minata and Captain Clement left soon after, closing the door behind them — and the
moment it shut, Erina and Butch rushed forward.
Butch didn't even try to hold back.
His nose was running, his face streaked with tears as he clung to Ignis's hands.
"Why did you go there alone!?" he choked, voice cracking.
"You know I always panic when you disappear — I thought you were dead, Ignis!"
His tears splashed against Ignis's knuckles.
Erina stepped closer too — not crying, but her voice carried a tight, trembling anger.
"When you defeated Nocturo, you collapsed right after," she snapped.
"We dragged you out and there was no pulse at first — none.
Your left hand went blood-red, like your veins were burning. Do you even know how long
you've been unconscious?"
Ignis looked up quietly.
"Three days," Erina continued, her tone turning heavier,
"Three days, Ignis!
Why are you always like this? Why don't you ever care about yourself?"
The words hung in the air between them.
Ignis glanced toward the window — rain still clung faintly to the glass. His heart felt hollow,
exhausted… but also strangely anchored now.
"I think we should head to the training grounds," he finally said, exhaling.
He checked the clock on the beside wall.
"…It's already late."
Training resumed as if nothing had happened, but Ignis could feel the difference — Clement
wasn't barking orders like usual. His voice, though still firm, carried restraint… almost
concern. Even the other cadets stole glances at Ignis from time to time, as if afraid he might
collapse again.
When the final bell rang, Clement dismissed the group. But as Ignis turned to leave,
Clement's voice stopped him.
"Ignis."
Ignis looked back. Clement's expression was unreadable — composed, yet strangely
careful.
"I have to speak with you," he said quietly.
He took a step closer so others wouldn't overhear.
"Doctor Foster reported something unusual — when they rescued you, your body emitted
abnormally high energy radiation. Nothing normal… nothing recognized. It was strong
enough to interfere with hospital equipment."
Ignis didn't respond, but his fingers tightened slightly.
Clement paused, then continued in a lower tone:
"I know you're hiding a lot — and I'm not asking you to explain everything now. But there
are… individuals who need to hear this from you directly."
He straightened up again, more formal now.
"So I want you to attend the evening tea gathering today. There will be other members
present — I can't name them here. You'll understand when you see them."
His eyes softened for the briefest second.
"I hope you'll cooperate with us."
"Surely, Captain."
Ignis answered with a steady voice — but his heart still trembled faintly as he saluted and
turned away.
Training ended, but his thoughts were still trapped in the ruins of that night. As he walked
toward the hospital, he suddenly passed by what was left of the first building where Ava had
been admitted. The entire block was now nothing more than burned stone and twisted steel.
Workers were climbing the rubble, covering the destruction with white tarps and memorial
flowers.
Ignis slowed his steps.
He had heard the numbers... but seeing the place again made them real.
153 people—patients, doctors, nurses.
Only 92 made it out alive.
The rest… had become part of that massacre.
His throat tightened.
The screams, the blood, Ava's broken body — it all surged back in a flash of pain. The world
blurred for a moment, and he didn't even realize when his feet had carried him to the new
hospital.
Inside, the soft smell of antiseptic replaced the scent of burned flesh and blood. A nurse
approached him with a light bow.
"Welcome, Master Ignis. Commander Swartz instructed us to bring you to your sister directly.
She is stable and recovering fast, but still unconscious."
"...Swartz?" Ignis whispered, surprised. Why he was involved here?
The nurse continued speaking, but Ignis had already stepped past her, his pulse quickening.
He followed the quiet corridor until he reached the room.
He pushed the door slowly.
Ava lay on the bed, pale but peaceful — as if she were only sleeping, as if she would wake
up and tease him again at any moment.
Ignis stood there silently…
The relief was so heavy it hurt.
For a moment, his knees felt weak.
Ignis sat slowly on the small tool beside her bed. His hand trembled as he reached out and
wrapped his fingers around Ava's.
The moment he felt her warmth — however faint — the dam inside him broke.
He lowered his head over her arm and cried, truly cried — loud enough that nurses outside
paused mid-step.
"My sister… you're okay… you're really okay…"
His voice cracked apart.
"I don't need anything else, just open your eyes… speak once… please… just once…"
But the silence did not answer him.
His breathing became uneven — then gradually slowed. After several long moments he
looked toward the window. The glass was so clean it looked like open sky. Outside, high on
a nearby branch, a mother bird bent down, feeding her small chicks, shielding them with her
wings.
A single tear slid down Ignis's cheek — but this one… carried warmth, not despair.
The setting sun spilled through the glass, drenching half the room in soft orange light. The
glow reached Ava's face… then his… shaping them in gold, like the last blessing of daylight.
Ignis turned back to her again, calmer now — eyes still swollen, but soft.
"You've always protected me," he whispered.
"Always carried me… always shared my pain… even when I didn't deserve it."
His voice trembled — not from grief, but realization.
"I asked from you. I shouted at you. I leaned on you… But I never said it… not even once…"
He leaned closer, fingers gently squeezing her hand.
"Not once… did I hug you. Not once… did I tell you you're the best thing I ever had."
A long silence.
Then — with the sunset on his face and a faint smile beneath the tears — he breathed out
the words he had never said aloud:
"...Thank you, Ava."
Narrator's stylus : The current time when the story is processing, is already advanced in technology. You may think that electrical equipments are not discovered yet , but Television , Smart phone and other necessary things are discovered.
But note a thing that magics also exists in the world. Before his death, Lord Condor bestowed his blessings to some selected families, teaching them how to harness and guide the spirits of nature.
[More chapters coming soon — thank you for reading]