Sword Brother

The words echoed within him like a promise. A passage, an opportunity.

The Academy of the Golden Tree.

Gaël knew of this place, but only by reputation. A sanctuary of learning and discipline, where the art of combat against the Umbra was honed to perfection. The Lumen's chosen were forged there into warriors of radiance, paragons of light capable of facing the darkness with absolute mastery. But he was not one of the Lumen's chosen.

Fortunately, the academy was not exclusive to them.

Two other paths were open to those who lacked the Lumen's blessing but knew how to wield steel or technology. One section of the institution was dedicated to lutech weaponry, and another for all who wished to become formidable warriors.

It was a chance. A gamble.

Gaël knew this. And Kaëlan knew it too.

But leaving…

Leaving meant abandoning family.

Leaving meant giving up the only thing that still felt stable, tangible, after that night of carnage.

That thought clung to them like an invisible weight, an unspoken dilemma that lingered between every glance exchanged.

The day dragged on. Exhausting.

Alongside dozens of other survivors, Gaël and Kaëlan were assigned to the city's reconstruction efforts. They rebuilt palisades, cleared debris, hammered planks to seal up homes ripped apart by the battle. The wood and stone still bore the scars of the fight, gaping cracks, shattered weapons embedded in walls, and here and there, darker stains that no one dared to name.

With every street they walked through, the weight of loss only grew heavier.

"They found Draven under the rubble…" someone murmured.

"Alenna's family didn't make it…"

"They burned the bodies before dawn. Too dangerous to let the infected corrupt the dead."

Gaël stopped listening.

His mind shut down, numbed by the tide of bad news, retreating into itself.

He could still remember Draven, always speaking too loudly, and Alenna, darting between market stalls, laughing as she escaped her parents.

They didn't deserve this. No one did.

'I was powerless…' Gaël thought. 'And I still am.'

That evening, a communal meal was organized in the city's central square.

A silent feast, where each bite was chewed slowly, without flavor, without true hunger.

The food, prepared with meticulous care by those who still had the strength, was only fuel, a mechanical necessity, nothing more.

The blessing of the Lumen still lingered in the air, a soft and soothing energy that kept despair from erupting into wails and screams.

But no one could deny reality. The shadow of the previous night still loomed over them.

Gaël looked up at the night sky, where the lighthouse of Kernéval still fought against the darkness of the blackened moon.

He and Kaëlan were among the few families still intact.

And that realization, far from being a relief, weighed on them with cruel irony.

Before heading to bed, Kaëlan stayed with Gaël a little longer. Sleep eluded them.

It was as if the tension that had kept them alert, pushing them forward without question, was slowly draining away.

They were exhausted, to the very marrow of their bones. And yet, the moment they closed their eyes… It was not rest that awaited them.

Only visions.

The tentacles bursting from the shadows, the screams of men carried away like mere straw in the wind, the crushing presence of the Monarch warping the very air around it.

Kaëlan ran a nervous hand through his hair, then let out a long sigh.

"Even after all that, I still can't believe it…" He shot a sideways glance at Gaël, whose face remained rigid, closed off like a block of granite. "That was a fucking monarch, Gaël. A real one. Not one of those degenerated aberrations we see beyond the walls."

Gaël remained silent.

Kaëlan shook his head, forcing his voice to stay steady.

"I've never felt anything like that. It was… it was like the air itself twisted under its weight. Like everything around us, everything we are, became insignificant in its presence."

Gaël lowered his head slightly.

"The swordbrother wasn't."

Kaëlan stared at him, searching for something, anything, beyond that impassive mask.

"That's all you have to say?"

Gaël lifted his gaze, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"What do you want me to say, Kaëlan? That I was scared? That I felt as insignificant as an insect beneath its shadow?"

Kaëlan grimaced but didn't look away.

"Yes, damn it. Because I was scared. I thought I was going to die right there, like some disposable extra in a tragedy. I watched men get crushed under its presence before it even moved. And you… you were gone. You stayed behind. I felt like shit, Gaël. A coward. A real one."

Gaël shook his head slowly.

"No. You did what you had to do. Your family comes first."

A heavy silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions.

Kaëlan took a deep breath before speaking again, his voice rougher.

"And really, what could we have done, huh? A stained one and a talentless guy like me? Even the radiance keepers couldn't do a damn thing…"

_ _ _

The next morning, Kernéval's central square had changed.

It was no longer a place of desolation, but a crossroad of choices.

Families gathered to depart for Fendracine, while young men stood ready, some nervous, others resolute, preparing to join the Academy of the Golden Tree.

Travel bags were scattered around, filled with hopes and silent goodbyes.

Twenty-five young men were setting out to try their luck at the academy. Only one girl blessed by the Lumen, a craftsman's daughter, whose parents had never had the money or the desire to pay for her training as a radiance keeper, would be joining them.

Gaël stood among them, a worn leather bag slung over his back, his shoulders feeling heavier than the day before.

His mother had made her decision.

"I'm staying."

She had spoken with quiet certainty, though the pain in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

"Your father's grave is here. I can't leave, Gaël. I can't start over somewhere else."

Gaël hadn't tried to convince her. He hadn't argued that she could find a safer place to live while he trained.

He knew that some bonds could never be severed, not even under the threat of another catastrophe.

But Aedan, his little brother, had the hardest time accepting their separation.

The child clung to his hand, his small fingers trembling, gripping with a strength Gaël never would have expected. His wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto him with an intensity that pierced his heart.

"Why do you have to go so far?" Aedan asked, his voice shaking with fear.

Gaël felt his throat tighten, but he forced a smile.

He crouched slowly, placing a gentle hand in his brother's messy hair.

"To become stronger. To protect you and Mom."

Aedan bit his lower lip.

"But we won't see you anymore…"

"That's true. For a while. But I'll come back as soon as I can."

Gaël grasped his brother's shoulders, holding his gaze firmly.

"Listen to me, Aedan. From now on, you're the man of the house. You have to be brave and help Mom. And if anything bad comes… you have to protect her."

Aedan hesitated, his small fists clenched, fighting back his tears. His tiny body trembled, overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't put into words. Gaël pressed his forehead against his, a gesture of brotherly affection.

"I'm counting on you, little brother."

Aedan nodded, silent but determined. Then, unable to hold back his emotions any longer, he turned away, burying his face in their mother's robes.

She, however, did not hide her tears.

She embraced Gaël, holding him tightly as if she could keep him there one last time.

"Come back soon. And… no more skipping school, Gaël!"

She tried to smile, though her voice trembled.

"And keep up with your purifications… it's important."

Gaël took a deep breath. She didn't believe him.

He had told her. Told her the stain was gone. That the curse he had carried all his life had been severed, cut away by the blade's edge. But she thought it was temporary. Like all the other times.

He could have argued. He could have tried to convince her.

But he didn't.

Instead, he squeezed her hand one last time and nodded.

"I will, Mom."

Then, without another word, he turned on his heels and walked toward the lighthouse.