“You taught me kindness, control,” Azyen murmured, his voice blending with the whistle of the wind. “To turn the other cheek, to not indulge in violence. And to not repay evil with evil. You taught me to treat others with the grace I wished to receive.” His lips trembled as he spoke, but he pressed on. “I tried, mother. I truly did. But in the end, it brought me nothing but pain. And now? Now I have this relentless desire of making them pay. Of making everyone that deserves to pay. This might not be the freedom I seek. But at least I'm moving forward.”

His fingers grazed his necklace, the faint warmth of its surface a cruel reminder of the person he used to be. “Your words,” he whispered, “are just distant memories to me now. I won't let myself restrained by your shackles anymore.” He inhaled deeply, feeling the painful void in his chest. “Forgive me, for I’ve chosen to unleash what you taught me to suppress.”

It is always painful to go against a mother's teachings. Heavy is the choice of walking on a different path that has no tangible proof of a bright destination.

Rising to his feet, Azyen shrugged off his tunic, letting it fall carelessly onto the straw-strewn bed. The cold air bit at his wounds, but he welcomed it. Dropping into a pushup position on the worn wooden floor, he began his early morning training, counting.

“One,” he muttered. “You taught me to save lives.” He lowered himself, muscles tensing as he pushed himself up. “Two. But I understood that first… I’ll have to take them.”

Another pushup. “Three. If standing in the light and being kind to everyone gives me no chance to survive,” he growled, his breath visible in the frigid air, “four… then I’ll wrap myself in the cloak of darkness.” His arms trembled from an indistinguishable emotion, strengthening his determination. “And put my unsightly side to display.”

This was his choice. This was the next step he decided to take in his liberation.

If he didn't matter for the world, then why would the world matter for him? If he was too insignificant and unknown to be considered by clients with deep pockets and influence, then why not forge himself into someone who would not only be desired by everyone but also have the freedom to choose his own clients?

. . .

The morning air in Karum was alive with a symphony of scents—fresh moss, damp wood, and the delicate perfume of blooming flowers. A cascade of sunlight poured in through the crystalline barrier high above, refracting through the suspended terrariums and casting dappled rainbows onto the cobbled pathways below.

Here, in the vertical heart of the city, life flourished—vibrant, intricate, and harmonious.

Azyen climbed the stairs he had tread for two weeks now, his steps steady yet bored by routine.

In this part of the city, wooden staircases spiraled gracefully around towering support beams, their banisters entwined with creeping ivy. A soft creak of timber accompanied his every step as people moved up and down alongside him. Their soft voices blending with the rustling of leaves in the faint breeze that danced through the open spaces.

Arriving at the address, Azyen stood by the door of the apartment, leaning casually against the wall.

Where his lazy gaze landed in wait, the stone-paved square was like a living mosaic, with moss pushing up between the cracks to soften the sharp edges. Here, stalls built of polished oak brimmed with goods—freshly harvested herbs, handcrafted lanterns, and tiny glass orbs containing ecosystems of their own.

Vendors called out, their voices friendly yet rich with a practiced sales pitch. A young woman in a wide-brimmed hat leaned over a counter, inspecting a miniature tree housed in a crystal sphere, its roots glowing faintly with bioluminescence.

Not now. Her enchanting form made Azyen avert his gaze.

He looked above, at the lattice of walkways that stretched like veins across the city’s vast interior, connecting houses that seemed to defy gravity. Their slanted roofs, heavy with flowering plants, made them look like pieces of the forest had simply decided to settle here.

Vines hung like curtains from balconies, swaying gently as though in time with the life that echoed through the air. Lanterns, each encasing softly glowing fungi, hung from wooden beams, adding a warm, magical light to the perpetual greenery.

And still higher, in the canopy of this living city, glass platforms cradled suspended gardens. Here, the air was thick with the hum of bees and the flutter of butterfly wings. Some residents worked diligently, tending to these floating oases as though the health of the city depended on each leaf, each petal.

Azyen sighed. He used to enjoy a similar view in his city.

A group of children darted before him, aiming for the lower pathways, their laughter disturbing his line of thought. One boy paused to peek into a hanging birdcage filled with tiny, chirping creatures whose feathers shimmered like polished gemstones. His friends called for him, and with one last look, he was off, leaving the cage swaying gently in his wake.

Beautiful, but they are caged. Caged... Azyen thought, remaining still for a moment. Seems like I am too.

'A thousand times the price, for a second of surprise,' the loud voice of a man echoed in Azyen's mind.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

'Hug me, kiss me like before,' a woman said.

'The guards are coming. Hurry!' shouted another man.

Azyen growled, annoyed. The voices. They returned. He directed flux into his middle finger and drew two runes. One on his chest, one on his forehead. The voices dimmed, until silence regained supremacy over his mind once more.

Binding a shard from the purgatory sure comes with its burdens, he said to himself, massaging his temples.

The door of the apartment creaked open, revealing a young boy with emerald eyes and a school bag slung over his shoulder. Ilum stepped out, scanning the platform eagerly until his gaze landed on Azyen.

“Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, are we, Azy?” Ilum teased with a wide grin.

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” Azyen replied, pushing off the wall. His tone deliberately softened as he turned to Ilum’s parents, who appeared behind the boy. “Good morning, sir, ma’am. I trust the day finds you both well.” He punctuated his greeting with a respectful bow.

“It does, as always,” Samir, the father, replied warmly. “And you? Did you manage to get some well deserved rest?”

Azyen hesitated for a fleeting moment, then forced a polite smile. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Eriste, Ilum’s mother, stepped forward, extending her hands to offer him a modest bundle wrapped in paper. “Here. Breakfast. I made sure you’d have the same as Ilum.”

Azyen accepted the food with both hands, lowering his head slightly, faking gratitude. “Thank you, Miss Eriste. You’re far too kind.”

The genuine warmth and care of this family made his chest tighten. Though the pay for guarding Ilum was barely enough to scrape by, their generosity kept him tethered. It was hard for Azyen to comprehend why and how could they, strangers, be so kind to him after seeing what he's capable of doing.

He tried to understand. But it was tough to accept.

“Azy, let’s go!” Ilum chirped, tugging at Azyen’s hand that rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Hold on a moment,” Azyen said, pulling back gently. “I need to speak with your father first.” He straightened and addressed Samir directly. “Sir, as per the terms of our indefinite contract, I regret to inform you that today will be my final day as Ilum’s escort. But rest assured, until my departure tomorrow, I’ll ensure there would be no future problems with the boys.”

“You’re leaving?” Ilum asked, his voice trembling. “But my parents were talking about keeping you longer.”

Eriste’s gaze flitted to Samir, who replied after a second of thought. “Azyen, if your mind is made up, I won’t attempt to dissuade you. But just the other day, we decided to offer you a permanent position. With the growth of our business, we’d be able to pay one or two bodyguards for full-time protection. Naturally, for a full-time job, the payment would be much more then your current earnings.”

Eriste chimed in, “You have a good character, Azyen. We want to surround ourselves with trustworthy people. And, in the short time we've worked with you, you’ve proven yourself to be just what we were looking for. Please consider it.” She clung to her husband’s arm, her expression pleading.

Azyen chuckled inwardly at their foolishness but kept his features calm. “Thank you for your generous offer, sir, ma’am. If I’d known earlier, I might have accepted without hesitation. But my decision is already made. I’m sorry, but I can’t change my course now.”

Samir’s shoulders slumped. “May I ask what you’re going to do next?”

“Head to the frontlines,” Azyen said simply. “I’ve enlisted as a volunteer in the southern army.”

Both Samir and Eriste were momentarily speechless, their faces etched with disbelief. Even Ilum’s usual exuberance dimmed as he stared at Azyen.

“The army?” Ilum whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Ilum!” Eriste scolded sharply.

Azyen waved a hand to ease the tension. “It’s not as dire as it sounds. The conflicts are mostly skirmishes with nomads at the borders, or missions to cull the rising numbers of wild beasts. Hunting is something I’ve always been good at. And I have no intention of dying—I am just in need of a place where I can find and improve myself.”

"But," Ilum said, "there must be other places, other ways to increase your strength."

"Definitely, but I see none to better align with my needs then this," Azyen replied.

"Mr. Samir," he began. "I want to give you my opinion. As a 2nd Sky mancer yourself, I believe you’d be better served honing your abilities to safeguard your family and business rather than relying on others. When success comes, it often attracts those with hidden agendas. Becoming your own strongest line of defense ensures no one can exploit what you hold dear."

Samir and Eriste exchanged a glance, their expressions caught between admiration and unease. Silence stretched, then Samir broke it, his voice tinged with a quiet respect.

"Azyen, sometimes I forget how young you are. You’re wise beyond your years, and It’s a little hard for me to fathom what has shaped you to mature so quickly."

He paused, running a hand through his hair, his gaze landing on Ilum. "I know I should be the protector, and I’ve prepared myself to step up if a crisis arises. But my specialties as a 2nd Sky are focused on observation and analysis. I have little to no ability for combat, so fighting doesn’t come naturally to me. In truth, I can’t bring myself to harm anything more significant than a mosquito. I deeply respect those who can shoulder and carry the burden of harming or taking lives. But unfortunately, that’s not a role I can fulfill. I don't have your talents and strengths. So, I prefer to benefit from those who are gifted in such ways and reward them for their efforts. Everyone has their place, their talents, and mine lies elsewhere."

My strengths... Azyen nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes flickering with an understanding few could match.

"You know better than I what is best for your family and business, sir," he replied, his tone carrying no judgment, only a quiet acceptance.

Samir nodded with a mix of solemnity and warmth. "Wait here for a moment." Without further explanation, he turned and disappeared into the apartment. A few seconds later, he returned with a small leather pouch. "Catch." He tossed it lightly to Azyen.

Azyen caught the pouch mid-air, the soft clink of coins inside audible. He weighed it in his palm, his piercing gaze shifting to Samir, silently asking for an explanation.

"Today’s payment, plus a little extra," Samir said with a knowing smile.

Azyen’s brow furrowed. "Mr. Samir, this is more than our agreement."

Samir waved off the protest. "I’ve always believed in leaving an open door with good people. Mine will always be open for you, Azyen. If you ever need something or decide to work with me again, you’ll always be welcome."

Azyen’s serious demeanor softened slightly. He squeezed the pouch. "Mr. Samir, your today's actions will be remembered. When the time comes, I will repay you. For you extended a hand to me when I was down."

Samir chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ll hold you to that."

Eriste stepped closer, her gentle smile tinged with worry. "Take care in your way to school, boys."

Azyen gave a respectful bow, his copper curls catching the morning light. "Thank you. If fate permits, our paths will cross again. Until then, I wish you all the best."

"Success to you in all that you seek," Samir said, his tone firm and genuine.

Eriste added softly, "Be careful out there."

Azyen nodded, then turned, joining Ilum, who was already waving goodbye to his parents. "See you later, Dad. Mom," the boy called out as he strode onto the bustling staircase.

Side by side, the two boys walked in silence for a while. The smell of grilled meat and fresh pies gently caressing their noses, while the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed against cobblestones. Despite the effort put to remain silent, Ilum’s curiosity soon got the better of him.

"How do you plan to deal with my problem with the other kids?" he blurted out, glancing sideways at Azyen.

Azyen didn’t break stride, keeping his vision on the surroundings. "It’s better that you don’t know. This way, you won’t have to lie or carry the burden of knowing." **