Leïla entered the cabin without saying a word. She fixed Mero with a meaningful gaze before leaning over him to change his bandages. Mero wanted to speak, to shout, but the words were stuck, prisoners in the knot of his throat.
Imperturbable, Leïla radiated a solemn calm, a heavy silence that was oddly soothing. Her skilled hands tended to Mero's wounds with an almost ritualistic precision, as though each movement was a promise of comfort. Around them, the distant sound of the waves and the creaking of the ship seemed to belong to another time, suspended between a tumultuous past and an uncertain future.
Once her task was completed, Leïla stood up with dignity. Her eyes met Mero’s, not to question, but to wait, as if she sensed that a response, a word, needed to emerge from the silence. Perhaps she knew that some silences speak louder than any speech.
The tension lingered in Mero’s throat, burdening each breath with emotions and unspoken thoughts. Yet, in Leïla’s presence, he felt a familiar and healing warmth. He didn’t need to break the silence to be understood; it seemed that it was simply time to heal, a little bit each day.
In a moment of vulnerability, Mero let go. He took Leïla’s hand, the hand that had always been more than just a comfort, and let his tears fall, as if he wanted, for now, to confide in the one who had been more than a mother to him, the one who had raised him, sacrificing without hesitation.
At first, Leïla remained silent. Gently, she squeezed Mero’s hand, her fingers curling around his with infinite tenderness. She didn’t try to stifle his sobs or offer words of comfort; her silent presence was already a balm to his wounded soul.
Every gesture of Leïla spoke of a tangible affection. Always present, she had been, over the years, an unwavering support, willing to sacrifice without expecting anything in return. She was his quiet strength, the one who had taught him to grow, to fight, and to become the man he was.
As Mero’s tears slowly subsided, Leïla brushed his head as if to erase the weight of accumulated pain. Then, with a soft breath, she whispered with infinite gentleness:
"You are not alone, Mero. Never. As long as I’m here."
These words resonated within him like a light in the darkness. Weeping, Mero murmured: "Thank you. You’ve been more to me than a mother, far more than the one who gave me life." He embraced her, feeling each hug mix pain and comfort, like a caress capable of soothing the wounds of the past.
Leïla held him tenderly, aware that each gesture, each silence, offered Mero a little bit of healing. She made no sound, simply letting her reassuring presence envelop the young man. Here, in this suspended moment, just being together was enough to chase away the shadow of solitude.
With a warmth full of tenderness, she whispered in his ear:
"I’ve always considered you my child, Mero, and I’ll protect you, no matter what."
In this embrace, Mero’s pain slowly faded, giving way to a tentative peace. Despite the trials he had faced and the losses he had suffered, he knew that in Leïla, he had an unwavering presence, someone who loved and accepted him for who he was. The weight of the world seemed lighter, though countless challenges still lay ahead. For now, he surrendered to this comfort, to this precious human warmth.
Finally, Mero thanked her silently and let himself fall asleep, as sleep gently enveloped him. Little by little, he was rocked by a tender, restorative refuge, as the sounds of the ship and the murmur of the waves faded. Surrounded by Leïla’s loyalty, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never truly be alone.
The blurred images of the day’s turmoil gradually faded in Mero’s mind, giving way to a beneficial silence. He let himself drift into this healing sleep, serene, convinced that the next day would offer him new opportunities and challenges. But for now, he allowed himself the rest he deserved, regenerating and preparing for the inevitable future, confident that he would never be without support.
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When he woke up, his master was watching him closely. Seeing him finally awake, he gave a warm smile and said in a tone both fatherly and filled with pride:
"You’ve shown them not to take our family lightly. I’m very proud of you. They’ll think twice before taking you on."
Mero felt a mix of discomfort and deep gratitude at these sincere words. It was rare to see his master smile like that, and yet, these words resonated within him with a particular intensity. He was right: from now on, anyone who dared to stand against him would hesitate. That night, he had proven himself, taking a crucial step in understanding the true strength of his family, the House of Sel.
Mero nodded, trying to absorb the weight of these revelations. In a quiet voice, he murmured:
"Thank you, master. I... I didn’t want it to come to this, but I knew I had no other choice."
His master, his gaze filled with kindness, responded softly:
"There are moments when we must face reality, no matter the cost. Today, you did what needed to be done. You are no longer just a young man. You are an heir of Sel, and you have proven the weight of that name."
A silence fell as Mero reflected on these heavy words. The weight of the name, of this responsibility, felt immense, but he also understood that it was in his nature to never shy away from adversity.
Then, his master’s tone grew darker as he continued:
"You have been banished from the kingdom of Ambrelune. Half of the port, many ships, and the entire district facing it have been reduced to ashes. There will be compensation to pay, and the emperor is furious. The money we deposited in the bank will probably be seized to cover the expenses."
Mero stood frozen, processing the magnitude of these revelations. Banned from the kingdom of Ambrelune, an enraged emperor… The massive destruction of the port wasn’t just an accident, but the direct consequence of his actions. The weight of the compensation, the prospect of the funds being seized, it all crushed him.
In a low voice, almost a whisper full of regret, he confessed:
"I hadn’t planned for all of this. I thought... I thought I was only protecting what was dear to me."
After a brief moment of silence, his master resumed, his voice calm and measured once more:
"You acted with courage, Mero, but sometimes, bravery alone isn’t enough. The consequences of your choices go beyond your own being. We will face these repercussions together, carefully considering every action we take. The decisions made here will resonate far beyond the limits of this ship."
Mero nodded, torn between the shame of what had been lost and the realization that his actions had far-reaching consequences. With newfound determination, he murmured:
"I will do better in the future."
The days passed, marked by lessons, as Mero, being in recovery, did not attend training. Instead, he immersed himself in astronomy lessons. The sailors, those rough and merciless men of the sea, now looked at him with a newfound respect, considering him a man of value and courage.
Under the weight of their gazes, heavy but oddly reassuring, Mero sensed that he was now seen in a new light: that of someone who had faced the unknown and survived. However, this recognition didn’t fully dissipate the cold reality: he knew that his actions had led to tragic consequences, and the road to redemption would be full of obstacles.
The astronomy lessons offered a welcome respite, an escape from the violence of the world around him. Every evening, he studied the sky, learning to distinguish the stars and understand their role in the grand design of life. Fascinating and soothing, this ritual reminded him, paradoxically, that like the stars, he too could illuminate his own destiny. Yet, he knew that he would need far more than studies and knowledge to mend what had been broken.
Perhaps one day, he would be ready to face again the full scale of these challenges. But for now, Mero focused on each small thing, each lesson, each step that brought him closer to the person he aspired to become.