_____MI'KAEL SERAPHANE_____

The air was heavy, suffocating. I was kneeling in the dirt, my breath ragged and hitching. Blood smeared my hands, my clothes, the earth beneath me. I couldn’t stop trembling, no matter how tightly I clenched my fists. My body shook with silent sobs I couldn’t control.

A coppery stench filled my nostrils, the sickly sweet smell of blood mingling with the sharp tang of iron. It clung to the back of my throat, choking me. My stomach lurched, and I vomited violently, the bitter acid searing my throat as I retched into the dirt. The world around me blurred. The vibrant green of the forest faded to gray, the edges of my vision darkening as nausea overtook me.

The sounds pressed in from all directions, an unbearable cacophony. The rustling of the trees grew deafening, the cries of birds sharp as blades. And beyond it all, the distant clash of steel and the guttural screams of men reverberated in my ears, twisting and distorting until it was all a single, endless noise.

I curled into myself, clutching my arms tightly. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out my own shallow, hitching breaths. Time felt fractured, each second dragging like an eternity, until suddenly—

“Mi'kael!”

A voice pierced through the fog. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, shaking me violently. I blinked, the dark haze lifting as I was dragged back into the present. My brother’s face came into focus, his features etched with panic and concern.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice steady but taut. His eyes darted to the corpse beside me—Kaito’s lifeless body—and then back to me, taking in the blood on my hands, the sick splattered on the ground. Without hesitation, he pulled me into an embrace, his arms locking around me like a shield.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the storm raging inside me. “Everything will be alright. You’re not alone. Just take a deep breath. I’m here for you.”

The dam I’d been trying to hold back shattered. I buried my face in his chest, my sobs spilling out in broken gasps. His warmth was grounding, his steady breaths anchoring me when everything else threatened to pull me under. For a moment, it felt like the world might not break me after all.

But then, like a fragile thread snapping, the memory dissolved like the fog surrounding the bus as my eyes snapped open.

For a few seconds, I didn’t move. The sky above me was painted in the last fading hues of evening. The cold wind bit at my skin, carrying with it the scent of wet earth — the rain had stopped. My chest rose and fell, steady now, but the echo of the dream still clawed at the edges of my mind.

I could almost still feel his arms around me.

“I’m here for you.”

But he wasn’t.

Azrael was gone — or at least, the version of him that mattered to me. I didn’t even know what he looked like anymore. Five years was enough time to forget a face, especially when it changed into something unrecognizable.

I sat up, my body sore from sleep and stillness. A headache throbbed at the base of my skull, but I pushed it aside.

A knock came from the side of the transport — light, hesitant.

“Hey,” a voice said through the cracked window. “Hey, uh... we’re here. You awake?”

I didn’t answer right away. I pushed open the back hatch and stepped down into the mud, the weight of my boots shifting with the wind.

The driver was waiting for me — the same guy from earlier. His stance was stiff, unsure. His fingers fidgeted with the strap of his belt as he looked me over like I was some ghost that had climbed out of his own grave.

I stared at him until he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nearest port’s south of here. A few clicks down that ridge. You’ll hit the trail markers quick if you stay along the old fencing line.”

I nodded once, brushing the damp from my gloves. “Appreciate it.”

He glanced at me sideways, then hesitated. “Say… you wouldn’t happen to be Ravyn’s kid, would you?”

That made me pause. I looked up at him, the corner of my mouth tugging into something between a smile and a smirk.

“Nephew,” I said simply.

The name seemed to land heavy in his chest. He went quiet, scratching the back of his neck.

“Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone from that family. Lot of stories, you know.”

“There always are.”

He didn’t press. Smart man.

I took one last look toward the forest line — the trail ahead was quiet, but it never stayed that way for long. I turned back to him.

“Thanks,” I said. “For the ride. And the directions.”

His eyes flicked down, then back up. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Safe travels… or whatever it is you’re doing out here.”

I gave a single nod, then turned toward the fading trail ahead of me. The wind had calmed. The mud no longer clung to my boots. The world felt still again — but only for a moment.

Then I walked, shifting my focus to what lay ahead.