The figure's eyes fell on Elior.

  Not by accident.

  Not by chance.

  It stopped moving for a single heartbeat —

  then the air itself felt sliced open.

  A thin, suffocating pressure spread outward, like the world had inhaled and forgotten how to breathe.

  Kael sensed it first.

  A chill ran along his spine.

  "Move—!"

  But the figure had already vanished.

  A violent force crashed into them from the side. Trees split. Ash burst into the air. The ground tore like paper under invisible claws.

  The shockwave rolled through stone and bone alike.

  Aevrin barely raised his blade in time. The impact threw him back, boots dragging hard against stone, leaving deep scars across the earth.

  Kael tightened his hold on Elior and twisted his body, shielding him as heat roared past. Sparks scraped his shoulder. Pain burned hot and sharp, but he didn't stop.

  Didn't loosen his grip.

  Didn't even breathe properly.

  The attacks came again.

  Fast.

  Precise.

  Merciless.

  No wild rage. No wasted motion.

  It wasn't fighting.

  It was finishing.

  Their breaths grew heavier with every second.

  Smoke filled their lungs, dry and bitter.

  Arms trembled.

  Vision blurred at the edges.

  Every inhale scraped their throats raw. Every exhale trembled out like something fragile breaking.

  Even standing still felt exhausting.

  Aevrin blocked another strike, but the force slid down his blade and tore across his side. Cloth split. Blood followed, dark and immediate.

  He staggered—

  But didn't fall.

  He refused to.

  Kael saw it all.

  This wasn't about Elior alone.

  The target was the three of them.

  A clean end.

  No survivors.

  Kael's chest tightened.

  Fear pressed against his ribs like iron bands.

  He couldn't keep holding Elior like this.

  Slowly — carefully — he lowered him to the ground behind a broken ridge of stone.

  His hands lingered a moment longer than needed.

  "Stay here," Kael said, voice rough and low.

  Elior tried to speak, but Kael was already moving.

  Nothing would reach him.

  Nothing.

  The figure attacked again. Aevrin stepped in. Steel clashed. Fire scattered into spirals of orange and gold.

  Another hit.

  Another wound.

  Aevrin's breathing turned uneven, each inhale sharp with pain, but he kept standing.

  Kael forced his staff forward, blocking a descending strike. The wood groaned under heat and pressure, fibers straining, surface blackening.

  Too strong.

  They were slowing down.

  The figure wasn't.

  Kael's heartbeat pounded in his ears like a war drum.

  Then—

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The world shifted.

  Sound dulled. Fire froze mid-air. Falling ash hung motionless like suspended stars.

  He stood somewhere else.

  Wind roared across a mountain ridge. The sky burned gold and crimson. Stone pillars stood shattered around a battlefield long forgotten.

  Three warriors stood together.

  Back-to-back.

  Bleeding. Exhausted. Unyielding.

  Kael felt it—

  That was them.

  Not just similar.

  Them.

  The same formation.

  The same bond.

  An enemy rushed from the front.

  One warrior stepped forward.

  The other two moved instantly.

  No words. No signals.

  Perfect alignment.

  Trust without hesitation.

  Magic didn't collide —

  it flowed.

  Power braided together like threads of light, weaving into something greater than any single strength.

  Not addition.

  Union.

  A single strike ended the assault.

  The vision trembled—

  And Kael snapped back to reality.

  Fire. Smoke. Steel. Pain.

  Aevrin barely blocking. Elior struggling to rise.

  Kael understood.

  "The dream…" he breathed. "It was showing us."

  He rushed toward them.

  "Aevrin. Elior. We combine our power."

  Aevrin frowned through pain. "Now?"

  "We failed earlier," Elior said weakly.

  "That was practice," Kael replied. "This is survival."

  They hesitated.

  Their bodies were shaking. Mana felt thin, unstable, flickering like a dying flame.

  But Kael's eyes didn't waver.

  "Trust me."

  Silence.

  Heavy. Fragile.

  Then Aevrin nodded once.

  Elior swallowed and placed his trembling hand forward.

  They moved closer.

  Shoulder to shoulder.

  Breath to breath.

  Kael closed his eyes.

  Align.

  Don't force.

  Flow.

  He reached inward and gathered what little remained.

  A faint glow formed, soft as moonlight.

  Aevrin added his strength.

  Elior followed.

  The light thickened.

  Unsteady — but real.

  Across the battlefield, the figure stopped.

  Watching.

  Interested.

  The energy trembled between them like fragile glass catching too much pressure.

  "Now," Kael whispered.

  They released it.

  Light surged forward—

  Then shattered.

  The backlash exploded outward.

  Pain tore through their bodies, raw and electric. The force slammed them to the ground.

  Kael's staff slipped. Aevrin gasped. Elior cried out.

  The figure laughed.

  Low. Echoing. Hollow.

  "Is that all?"

  It stepped closer.

  "I thought this time you would show something new."

  Fire spiraled around its blade like living veins.

  "You are weaker than before."

  The sword rose high.

  "I once lost."

  Its voice darkened, edged with something old and personal.

  "But today, I will not give you the chance to rise again."

  The blade fell.

  Kael forced his staff up to block.

  Wood screamed.

  Aevrin's oath sword locked beside it.

  Steel. Will. Desperation.

  But the flames had weakened everything.

  Kael felt splinters forming in his weapon.

  Aevrin's blade trembled violently, edges glowing from strain.

  They couldn't hold.

  This might be the end.

  Kael turned.

  Elior was trying to stand again.

  Still thinking of them.

  Still reaching toward danger.

  Kael moved instantly.

  Aevrin too.

  They stepped in front of Elior and shielded him with their bodies.

  A wall of flesh and will.

  The sword descended closer.

  Heat scorched their skin.

  Time slowed.

  Why…

  Kael's thoughts fractured.

  Why does it always come to this?

  He had lost Elior once.

  That silence.

  That emptiness.

  That unbearable absence.

  He couldn't live through it again.

  He wouldn't.

  A drop fell from his chin.

  Hot.

  He thought it was sweat.

  But it burned too deeply.

  A tear.

  Not weakness.

  Fear. Love. Grief. Rage — melting together into something heavier than pain.

  I only wanted to protect him.

  To stay together.

  To live peacefully.

  Why is fate so cruel?

  He was still young.

  Still learning.

  And already facing death.

  I'm not strong enough.

  Darkness closed in.

  The sword neared.

  Under their protection, Elior could feel everything.

  Kael's heartbeat through his back.

  Fast. Unsteady. Still refusing to retreat.

  The tremor in Kael's arms.

  The uneven rise of Aevrin's breath.

  The way both of them leaned forward—not to attack—

  But to take the hit first.

  A quiet truth settled in Elior's chest.

  This might be the end.

  Anyone standing this close to death would feel fear.

  Sadness.

  Regret.

  But Elior's heart hurt for a different reason.

  They were fighting like this…

  Because of him.

  Burning their strength.

  Bleeding their bodies.

  Spending their last breaths.

  For him.

  "I'm… useless…"

  The thought slipped out silently.

  He hadn't swung a weapon.

  Hadn't cast a spell.

  Hadn't stood on his own feet for long.

  Not because he didn't want to—

  But because he couldn't.

  His body was weak.

  His strength unreliable.

  His presence… a burden.

  The realization stung deeper than the smoke in his lungs.

  If I were stronger…

  They wouldn't have to protect me like this.

  Another memory surfaced.

  Soft. Distant. Warm.

  Home.

  A closed gate.

  Curtains drawn early.

  Footsteps always nearby.

  He used to hate it.

  "Don't go alone."

  "Stay inside."

  "Call us if you need anything."

  He thought they were overprotective.

  Thought they were afraid of the world for no reason.

  He felt like a bird in a cage.

  Trapped. Watched. Restricted.

  But now—

  Standing at the edge of death—

  He finally understood.

  They weren't trapping him.

  They were shielding him.

  From pain.

  From harm.

  From exactly this moment.

  A tight ache filled his throat.

  Mom… Dad…

  I'm sorry.

  I never understood.

  I thought you didn't trust me.

  But you were protecting me… the only way you knew how.

  His vision blurred.

  Hot tears gathered but refused to fall.

  Then his thoughts shifted.

  To the people standing in front of him.

  Kael.

  Always stepping forward first.

  Always standing between danger and everyone else.

  Carrying him without complaint.

  Protecting him without hesitation.

  Kael…

  Why do you always choose me first?

  Aevrin.

  Quiet care.

  Unspoken loyalty.

  Even injured, still fighting.

  Still guarding.

  And you too…

  You both keep giving everything.

  They weren't just allies.

  They were his people.

  His closest ones.

  And now—

  They were breaking because of him.

  Elior's hands moved on their own.

  He reached forward and held Kael tightly from behind.

  Not weakly.

  Not loosely.

  But like he was trying to hold him back from falling into the dark.

  Kael felt it.

  That trembling grip.

  That silent plea.

  He heard Elior's breath hitch close to his ear.

  And something inside Kael shifted.

  No.

  Not like this.

  Not while he's still holding on to me.

  Kael's thoughts raced.

  Think.

  Think.

  There's something—

  Something I can still do.

  I'm not empty yet.

  I'm not finished yet.

  Somewhere deep inside his fading strength…

  A spark waited.

  Small.

  But refusing to die.

  And this time—

  Kael reached for it.

  Aevrin saw it.

  The way Elior held Kael.

  Like he was afraid to lose him.

  Like he was trying to memorize warmth before it vanished.

  Something twisted quietly inside Aevrin's chest.

  Not jealousy.

  Not anger.

  Just a deep, aching tenderness he had buried for years.

  From childhood…

  his only wish was simple.

  Let Elior stay beside me.

  That was all.

  Not glory.

  Not power.

  Not titles.

  Just him.

  But life never listened.

  They grew up in the same spaces,

  under the same roofs,

  yet distance always found a way to stand between them.

  Unspoken words.

  Missed timings.

  Feelings swallowed before they reached the surface.

  Aevrin tried.

  Tried to stay close.

  Tried to become someone Elior could rely on.

  Tried to be strong enough to stand beside him without hesitation.

  But every time he stepped forward—

  circumstances pulled them apart.

  And now…

  When fate finally brought them together again…

  When he thought he could protect him properly this time…

  They were standing at the edge of death.

  His grip tightened on his sword.

  Blood slid between his fingers, warm and sticky.

  I failed again.

  He couldn't shield Elior alone.

  Couldn't end the fight.

  Couldn't even stand straight without pain tearing through his back.

  What kind of protector was he?

  Aevrin lowered his gaze.

  Flames reflected in his eyes.

  Memories flickered with them.

  Elior laughing softly.

  Calling his name.

  Walking beside him without fear.

  Small moments.

  Precious ones.

  Moments Aevrin wanted more of.

  Moments he thought he still had time for.

  But time was cruel.

  It always slipped away when he needed it most.

  A quiet question rose inside him.

  Is it wrong…

  To just want his warmth?

  Not possession.

  Not control.

  Just presence.

  Just staying near enough to hear his breathing.

  Just knowing he was safe.

  Was that too much to ask?

  Why did everything fall apart

  whenever he reached for something gentle?

  The sword in his hand trembled.

  Not from fear.

  From helplessness.

  If this was the end…

  He hated that his last feeling would be regret.

  Regret for chances not taken.

  Words not spoken.

  Steps not made fast enough.

  Aevrin lifted his head again.

  Through smoke and fire—

  He looked at Elior.

  Still alive.

  Still fighting in his own way.

  Still holding on.

  Aevrin steadied his breath.

  If I can't have a future beside you…

  Then I'll protect your present.

  Even if it costs everything.

  — by Aurea;"If this was our last breath, we would share it — not surrender it."