First Night

~~~🔥~~~

“For the Light.”

After everyone at the table had recited a prayer to Solaria, the members of the Royal family let the servants take care of the dishes and retired to sleep. The next day would be another long one, filled with responsibilities he had never asked for and wasn’t sure he could handle.

The first to leave, as usual, were the three Enlightened, accompanied by the newly appointed Hero. They stopped after passing through the first arch, right as they entered a wide marble corridor.

“Leonoris will take you to your room so you can rest,” Ettor ordered, only looking at him after finishing the sentence. “But tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I’ll see you in the courtyard to begin your training. No excuses.”

The echo of his words bounced off the walls adorned with bas-reliefs of Solaria, broken only by an innocent whistle that quickly drifted down the hallway.

“Nessus, you too!” Ettor shouted, his voice losing composure.

“Damn it!” came the echo. Rei wondered when the middle brother had managed to slip away and get so far from them.

“Such an idiot…”

Ettor shook his head, then looked back toward Rei.

“Listen to me carefully, Hero,” he addressed him harshly. “Today was the worst start you could have had. That cloak you wore was supposed to represent the Hero sent by Solaria to aid her people, but instead, it showed a child who didn’t think of the consequences and only caused harm.”

Each word weighed heavier on Rei, who no longer knew what to do to feel better.

“That’s enough, brother!” For the first time, Rei heard Leonoris raise her voice. The spark of determination in her eyes as she defended him gave him a small sense of relief.

“Don’t let it happen again, Kashiwa Rei. Or we will all be dead.”

Without another word, Ettor began walking in the same direction Nessus had vanished.

“I… I’m sorry,” he barely managed to say, but Ettor was already gone.

His mind still felt clouded, everything happening too fast for him to grasp one thing before the next came crashing in.

“Come, Rei,” Leonoris said softly. “I’ll take you to your room.”

Still dazed, Rei followed her toward where he would rest.

~~~☁️~~~

After several turns, the corridor narrowed, though being alone made the walk peaceful. The torches cast dancing shadows along the tall columns, the air filled with the almost rhythmic sound of their footsteps, led by Leonoris’s graceful stride. Her cloak barely brushed the floor. Rei followed in silence, wondering how much longer he’d have to bear the mantle of “Hero” that felt far too big for him.

“Here,” she said, stopping before a door of pale wood. “Your room. If you need anything, press this small bell.” She pointed to a silver brooch shaped like a half-circle crossed by a sword, connected to a series of metals that would chime when touched. “Someone will come immediately.”

Rei nodded, trying to process the concern hidden in her eyes. Leonoris lingered a moment longer, giving him one last sad look.

“Rest well, Rei,” she whispered before turning to leave.

“Uh…”

She stopped, turning her head back toward him in slight surprise, though her immaculate composure made her appear expressionless.

Rei couldn’t bring himself to thank her for healing him twice and for defending him just moments ago. In his lonely world, that had been water in the desert. He didn’t need the words after all.

“Don’t worry,” she said first. “I’m only fulfilling Solaria’s will. If you do well, we all do well. But promise me you’ll give it your all starting tomorrow.”

“I… promise,” he said, though without conviction.

Leonoris simply nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She closed the door right after. Rei leaned against the wood, feeling the fevered turmoil in his mind give way to a sharp pang of loneliness.

Inside, the room was simple: a huge bed with white linen covers, a small table with water and an oil lamp, and a wardrobe with clean tunics. Rei let his cloak fall and approached the window from which he could see the city and forest. The night breathed a cold air, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the inner courtyard.

He walked toward the bed with unsteady steps.

“Hero… I’m not a hero. Just a boy who knows about metals, steam, gears… I can’t fight pirates. I can’t protect anyone. The only thing I have is…”

His eyes fell on the weapon. The gleam of the metal brought the memories back—gunpowder, blood, terror. His world, once again, began to spin violently.

“Aaaahhh!”

His breathing grew wild. He slapped the pistol away, and it rolled across the table before falling to the floor. He stared at it as if it could fire on its own, as if it were an animal ready to bite. He picked it up with trembling caution and hurled it hard at the wall. The metallic thud rang through the room.

His hands shook as he dropped the pistol on the nightstand. The weapon gleamed, reminding him of the dry echo of the shot, of Gorō’s lifeless body. The weight of fate pressed on his chest. He inhaled sharply and, with a trembling motion, threw the pistol across the room again, letting out another shout. The weapon clattered against the window wall, thankfully without firing.

The sheets rustled beneath him as he collapsed face-first. The light of the lamp blurred through his tears. For the first time, the great castle felt silent, and that silence made room for all the memories of the workshop, then the tragedy, then his new reality. Now, every corner was steeped in responsibilities he had never asked for and in deaths he might cause.

I’m not a hero.

I just want to go home.

I miss you, Kaede, Mei, Haruto, Yūta.

I miss you, Gorō. I need you here with me.

His mind filled with the faces of children—their laughter, their tears, their complaints when he didn’t buy them sweets. He clung to that memory like a lifeline.

“Come with me,” Gorō had told them when adopting them.

But there, in the vastness of the royal bed, despair crushed him. He closed his eyes and surrendered to a silent sob.

The night wore on, and his aching body and exhausted soul soon gave in. Rei fell asleep in tears, the armor of his cloak set aside, and the castle’s indifference lulling him into uneasy rest.

~~~💡~~~

Looks like he fell asleep.

Leonoris, standing beside the door, barely opened her eyes in pain.

She had heard him for minutes—alone, overwhelmed, torn brutally from his world. Because of her.

She wanted to help, at least to ease his suffering. But she mustn’t.

The Goddess Solaria had been clear: the Hero must forge his own Light. Only then would he be ready to bear what was to come.

But in that moment, in the darkness of the hallway, Leonoris didn’t want to be the Priestess, nor the third Enlightened, nor the noblewoman. She was simply Leonoris.

If I can’t help him today, I’ll at least stay here. So he’s not so alone, even if he doesn’t know.

She leaned gently against the wall, closing her eyes. Staying there a while wouldn’t anger the Goddess. In fact, she might see it as a reason to grant Rei a small act of mercy.

And from that moment, Leonoris made herself a promise:

Hold on, Kashino Rei. You won’t be alone.

The Hero of Solaria would have someone to lean on, and wouldn't be alone while he saved her people.