The Price of New Life

 “You should be. Especially after losing your Emberfox back then… someone almost died because of your recklessness.”

“Too many excuses for a future warrior. You’ve been blessed with mana and artifacts… but if you slack off, someone will surpass you.

“Uprising stars… valuable pieces. But we can’t celebrate too soon. Other kingdoms are likely nurturing their own monsters.”

“Ezra, remember this. Talents are blossoming everywhere. The new era of warriors and mages is coming.”

In the Orphanage 

'‘Keep feeding those younglings.’”

One afternoon, as Rethrus practiced his magic by the river, he felt a presence approaching. He glanced up, his concentration breaking.

"Rethrus?"

His heart skipped. Elizabeth. Her bright blue eyes reflected the sunlight, and her long, silver hair shimmered as the breeze toyed with it.

'Why does she always look so... ethereal?' he thought before shaking the idea away. 'She's just a kid. Focus, Rethrus.'

"Oh, hey," he said, forcing a smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What brings you here?"

Elizabeth shifted slightly, her hands clasped in front of her. "Um..." Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Can you teach me more about controlling mana?"

Rethrus blinked, surprised. "You want to learn from me?"

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes filled with determination. "You're... amazing at it. I want to be better."

'Got it,' he thought, his nerves settling. "Sure. We can practice together."

They spent the day by the river, her water magic flowing in harmony with his. She was a quick learner, her control improving by the hour. As Rethrus watched her focus intently, a fleeting thought crept in.

'Wait... she's only twelve. And I'm...'

A wave of unease washed over him. 'No, stop it,' he scolded himself. 'You're just proud of her. That's all. Nothing more.'

He pushed the thought aside and refocused on her training, determined to keep his emotions in check.

That night, after dinner, Rethrus lay in bed, lost in meditation. His mind wandered to the elements—how each drew from a source. Light drew from the sun, water from nature’s endless cycle, fire from passion, air from freedom, and earth from the steady strength of the land. But darkness—

'It's different,' he thought, his mind drifting. 'It feeds on the unknown... the secrets we hide...'

His thoughts were interrupted by a vivid dream. He stood in a field of soft grass, watching a young girl run toward him.

"Eska?" he whispered, his heart aching. Her laughter echoed as she ran into his arms, her warmth familiar and comforting.

But then, her grip loosened. Blood smeared her small hands. Rethrus looked down and saw a wound—deep, clawed. He turned, and the shadow of an Emberfox loomed.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Rethrus jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding.

"Rethrus? Are you okay?" Sister Susan's voice was gentle, filled with concern.

He blinked, his vision adjusting. Without thinking, he buried his face in her shoulder, holding her tightly.

"It's okay, dear," she murmured, stroking his hair. "You're safe."

For three days after, Rethrus barely spoke. He didn't train. He just stared at the sky, lost in thought. His friends noticed.

"Teacher, shouldn't you talk to him?" Elizabeth asked, her voice filled with worry.

"Let him be," Xavier replied, his tone calm. "He's smart. He'll come around."

But not everyone was as patient.

"Maybe he’s scared because his power will be sealed at the academy," Aethra muttered, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Let him be," Jestus said softly. "We’re still kids. We shouldn’t be thinking about war."

"Shut up, smart-ass." Haldrin rolled his eyes. "This is our chance for fame."

Jack grinned. "Fame, power, and girls. What else?"

Rina splashed water on Jack’s face.

"Why?" Jack sputtered, wiping his face.

"For being a dog," Rina said with a smirk.

As the others laughed, Leo’s voice broke through, quiet but sincere. "Huh... with everything he has, and yet he's so... lost."

Finn, sitting in the shadows, muttered bitterly, "What a waste..."

On the fourth day, Father Henry sat beside Rethrus under the shade of an ancient tree.

"Are you scared?" the priest asked gently.

Rethrus didn’t look up. "I don’t know."

"You don’t want to go to war, do you?"

Rethrus’ jaw clenched. "I don’t know," he whispered again, his voice barely audible.

Father Henry sighed, his expression heavy with sorrow. "I’m sorry, Rethrus. It’s our generation’s failure that children like you have to fight instead of play."

Rethrus’ gaze fell to the grass beneath his feet.

"War isn’t something children should bear," Father Henry continued softly. "We pray for peace, but... maybe we’re too stubborn to seek it."

Rethrus felt a flicker of something deep inside—anger, frustration, but also clarity.

"You’re right, Father," he said quietly, his voice steadying. "Thank you."

That night, as he lay in bed, he dreamed again. But this time, he wasn’t calling for Eska. He stood firm, his heart steady.

"Rethrus?"

He opened his eyes to find Elizabeth peering down at him, her face filled with concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He offered a reassuring smile. "Sorry for worrying you."

"Aren’t you scared?" she asked softly.

Rethrus paused. "Of course... But aren’t you?"

Elizabeth’s eyes softened, her smile small but brave. "I am. But... we don’t have a choice, do we?"

Her gaze met his, unwavering. "As long as we’re together... I think it’s a little less scary."

Rethrus was too stunned to respond.

"Goodnight, Rethrus." Elizabeth’s voice was warm, filled with quiet strength.

As she walked away, Rethrus’ heart swelled with gratitude and something deeper—a resolve.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

And this time, when he closed his eyes, he felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.