"Huff... huff..."
Seyl's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted down the bustling street, clutching a bag tightly to his chest. The crowded thoroughfare blurred around him, the vibrant shouts of vendors and chatter of townsfolk drowned out by the pounding of his heart. His small legs worked frantically, weaving through the throng of people in a desperate bid to escape.
THUD!
"Ow!" he yelped, bouncing back after colliding headfirst with a pole. Rubbing his forehead, he stumbled, but there was no time to dwell on the pain. Seyl shook it off and kept running, his bag thudding rhythmically against his side.
The shouts behind him grew louder, more urgent. Panic surged through him, his grip tightening on the bag as he rounded a corner sharply. Just as he thought he had a clear path ahead, he collided with a merchant pushing a cart overflowing with wares.
CRASH!
The impact sent the cart wobbling dangerously, several items spilling onto the cobblestone street.
"Ahh! That hurts!" the merchant grumbled, clutching his side as he steadied the cart.
Seyl stumbled backward, clutching his nose where it had bumped into the merchant. His eyes watered as he winced in pain.
"Are you alright, kid?" the merchant asked, his initial irritation softening into concern as he took in the boy's disheveled appearance. "Is someone chasing you?"
Seyl nodded quickly, adjusting the helmet perched crookedly on his head. He looked up at the merchant with wide, pleading eyes, his expression trembling just enough to tug at the man's heartstrings. "Mister, can you help me?" he asked, his voice shaking.
The merchant blinked, momentarily stunned by the boy's earnestness. "Alright, alright, calm down," he muttered, crouching slightly to pick up the scattered goods.
"Hey! He went this way!"
The shout rang out, cutting through the din of the busy street. Seyl froze, his fear palpable. The pounding footsteps of his pursuers grew closer, and a group of men in pristine white suits turned the corner. Each bore the distinctive logo of the Zephra family—a symbol of power and intimidation.
The merchant straightened, his sharp gaze flicking to the approaching group. Seyl darted a quick glance around before diving beneath the merchant's cart, the thick cloth covering it concealing him from view.
The men in suits skidded to a halt in front of the merchant, their commanding presence unsettling the passersby.
"Old man," one of them barked, stepping forward with an authoritative air. "Did you see a kid wearing a helmet and a sweater run past here?"
The merchant crossed his arms casually, his face impassive. "Yeah," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "He ran that way."
Without hesitation, the group turned and bolted in the direction he pointed, their urgency carrying them quickly out of sight.
But one lingered behind, his sharp eyes narrowing as they fell on the merchant's cart. His gaze lingered on the cloth draped over it, the faintest hint of suspicion flashing across his face. He began to approach, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
"Hey, 603! Get over here, or we're leaving you behind!" one of his comrades called from the distance.
"Hold on," 603 replied, still focused on the cart. He reached out tentatively, his hand inches from lifting the cloth.
"Now, 603!"
The man sighed, pulling back reluctantly. "Fine, fine! I'm coming!" he shouted, jogging after the rest of the group.
As their footsteps faded into the distance, the merchant let out a quiet sigh of relief. He crouched down, lifting the cloth to reveal Seyl, who was curled up tightly beneath the cart, clutching his bag like a lifeline.
"You've got guts, kid," the merchant said, shaking his head with a faint chuckle. "But I have to ask—what's in that bag that's got the Zephra family on your tail?"
Seyl peeked out cautiously, his eyes wide but resolute. "It's... a secret," he said, his voice small but steady.
The merchant raised an eyebrow, smirking wryly. "A secret, huh? Well, whatever it is, you'd better be careful. You've just made some powerful enemies."
The boy nodded solemnly, his grip on the bag tightening. "Thank you, mister," he murmured, his gratitude genuine.
"Don't mention it," the merchant replied, pulling the cloth back down. "But you owe me for the mess you caused."
Straightening up, the merchant began to push his cart forward once again, his thoughts lingering on the strange boy beneath it. He couldn't help but wonder who Seyl was—and what kind of trouble he carried on his
The cart rolled steadily down the cobblestone street, the faint squeak of its wheels the only sound breaking the silence between the merchant and his hidden passenger.
"By the way, what's your name, kid?" the merchant asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.
For a moment, there was no reply. Then, with a hesitant voice, the boy said, "Ah, my name's Seyl. Seyl Zephra."
The merchant froze mid-step. His hands tightened on the cart's handle as his eyes widened in shock. The cart creaked to a halt, the sound echoing in the narrow alley.
A heavy silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
"Uh, old man?" Seyl asked cautiously, peeking out from under the cart's cloth.
"WHAT?!" the merchant exploded, his voice reverberating off the alley walls. He spun around to face the boy, his expression a mix of disbelief and alarm. "You mean to tell me you're a Zephra?! Then why in the world are those men chasing you?!"
"Ehe... I ran away," Seyl admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his helmet with an awkward smile.
"You what?!" The merchant's voice rose again, but he caught himself, taking a deep breath to calm down. "Alright... alright. Why did you run away, kid? Do you have any idea how dangerous your family is?"
Seyl's playful demeanor faded, replaced by a somber expression. He shifted slightly, drawing his knees closer to his chest. "I ran away because I'm tired of being controlled. I'm the son of Kirl Zephra—the most feared hitman in this city. My family expects everything from me. I have ten older siblings, all elite assassins, and they say I'm the most talented of them all because of how easily I can harness Arcyn. They want me to carve my own path to become the head of the family, but..." He paused, his fists clenching tightly.
"But you don't want that life," the merchant said softly, his tone now gentle.
Seyl nodded, his voice trembling. "I don't. I want to live a normal life, with friends and a family of my own. But my family... they don't see me as a person. To them, I'm just a successor. One day, I finally made a friend—someone from the outside. I thought I could keep it a secret, but then... I found my mom torturing him in our dungeon. She said I wasn't allowed to have friends." Seyl's voice cracked, anger and sadness spilling over. "That's when I decided to run. I couldn't take it anymore."
The merchant stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the boy as he continued.
"My parents sent thousands of assassins after me," Seyl said, his voice hollow. "Even my older siblings. They tracked me down over and over, but I kept fighting them off. Yesterday, I jumped onto the train tracks right before the train arrived and used it to lose them for a while. I thought I'd finally escaped, but they spotted me again. I ran into an alley to try and avoid them, but I got exhausted, and... well, I found you."
The merchant rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a low whistle. "That's... quite the story, kid. Intense, to say the least." He scratched his head, trying to process everything. "You've got guts running from a family like that, but you've also made yourself some dangerous enemies."
Seyl nodded silently, his small frame looking even smaller beneath the cart.
"Alright," the merchant said with a sigh, crouching down to meet Seyl's gaze. "Now, I have to ask... what's in that bag? I know you said it's a secret, but you've got me curious. As a merchant, I've got an eye for valuable things."
Seyl blinked, then gave a sheepish laugh. "Oh, the bag? Haha, it's just snacks." He unzipped the bag and held it open, revealing buns, dried fruits, and a few sweets.
The merchant's jaw dropped. He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. "I don't know what I was expecting, but... I got my hopes up for nothing."
Seyl chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Sorry about that."
The merchant shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You're a strange one, kid. Oh, u didn't get my name, did u? Anderson Yerbhalt, Tier 2 merchant at your service. I deal in rare and exotic goods."
"Wow, that's amazing!" Seyl's eyes lit up. "So, do you sell really rare stuff?"
"Of course I do," Anderson replied with a hint of pride.
"That's so cool!" Seyl said, his voice bubbling with admiration.
The two shared a laugh, the heavy mood from earlier finally lifting.
Anderson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're full of surprises, kid. Running from the Zephras, carrying snacks like it's a treasure, and you've got guts to boot. So, tell me—can you also use your family's famous technique? The one where you turn anything into a weapon?"
Seyl smirked, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, I can."
Anderson raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? Well, now I've got to see it. Go on—show me what you can do."
"Alright, watch this," Seyl said confidently. He scanned the merchant's cart before spotting an ornate statue made of shimmering stone. Without waiting for permission, he grabbed the statue and held it firmly in his hands.
The air around Seyl seemed to ripple, a faint aura forming around him as he concentrated. Slowly, the statue began to shift and twist, its solid structure reconfiguring itself. Within moments, it transformed into a sleek, futuristic-looking gun. The weapon's surface retained the intricate carvings and artistic details of the original statue, but its shape was unmistakably lethal. Three glowing bullets hovered inside the chamber, humming softly with energy.
Anderson's jaw dropped. "By the stars... That's incredible!" he exclaimed, leaning in to inspect the weapon. "You turned a statue into this? That's some serious talent, kid."
Seyl grinned, clearly pleased with the reaction.
But Anderson's expression shifted as he examined the material more closely. "Wait a second..." He ran his fingers along the surface of the gun, his eyes widening. "This... this is Honrel! One of the rarest and hardest ores in the world! Do you even realize what you've just done?"
Seyl's grin vanished instantly. "What? Honrel?! I didn't know!" He stared at the weapon in his hands, panic flashing across his face. "Old man, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to ruin it!"
Anderson burst out laughing, waving a hand to calm the boy. "Ruin it? Are you kidding me? You've just made it more valuable! Weapons made from Honrel are legendary—they're indestructible. This thing will sell for a fortune now!"
Seyl let out a deep sigh of relief, handing the weapon back to Anderson. "Phew, I thought I was in big trouble."
Anderson carefully placed the weapon back into his cart, his grin widening. "You've got a real gift, Seyl. Not everyone can do what you just did with Arcyn. You could make a living off this, you know. But you've got to be careful—there are plenty of people who'd do anything to exploit a skill like yours."
Seyl nodded, his expression growing serious. "I know. That's why I've got to stay ahead of them."
"Smart thinking, kid." Anderson adjusted the straps on his cart, his gaze thoughtful. "So, where are you headed next? I can't take you all over the world, you know. My travels are exhausting enough as it is."
Seyl's face lit up with determination. "I already have a plan. I'm heading to Aurion—the City of Freedom."
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Anderson stroked his chin, his expression curious. "Aurion, huh? Big place, full of opportunities. As it happens, I'm heading there tomorrow. If you want, you can come along."
Seyl's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really? Sure! Thanks, old man!"
Anderson chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't mention it, kid. Just promise me one thing—don't go turning anything else in my cart into a weapon, alright?"
Seyl laughed, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten. "Alright, I promise!"
The two shared a grin, their unlikely partnership solidifying as the cart continued rolling down the street.
They both laughed, the camaraderie between them growing as they prepared for the journey ahead.
Above the clouds, an airship glided gracefully, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Painted boldly on its side was the logo, "AIR EXPRESS", a testament to its purpose of connecting distant lands.
Inside the ship's cabin, Seyl's eyes sparkled with wonder as he glanced around. "Woah, I've never ridden an airship before!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
Anderson chuckled heartily, leaning back in his seat. "Heh, it's something, isn't it? Do you know how airships fly, kid?"
Seyl nodded eagerly. "Yeah! They use wizards or Arcana crystals to make them float, right?"
Anderson burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Not even close, kid! See that big balloon on top?" He pointed upward. "That's filled with helium. The buoyancy of the balloon is what keeps the ship in the air, and the propellers do the rest to move it forward. No wizards or crystals needed!"
Seyl blinked, clearly surprised. "I... I didn't know that at all!" he admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
Anderson laughed again, his deep voice echoing in the cabin. "Stick with me, kid, and you'll learn all kinds of useful stuff!"
Curiosity piqued, Seyl wandered over to one of the large, round windows. Pressing his hands against the glass, he peered out at the breathtaking view below.
"Woah..." Seyl's voice softened as his eyes took in the city beneath them. "So this is what Chermio looks like from above."
The sight was nothing short of spectacular. The City of Chermio gleamed like a radiant jewel set against the vast horizon. An ethereal golden glow, reflecting the setting sun, bathed its towering spires and grand domes. The city's luminous pathways intertwined like veins of light, connecting its elegant structures. At the heart of it all stood a colossal spherical monument, glowing with an inner brilliance, a symbol of unity and divine power.
Beyond the shimmering cityscape, a winding river meandered gracefully through the plains below, its shimmering surface catching the last rays of sunlight. In the distance, the shadowy outlines of mountains loomed, framing the scene like a painted masterpiece.
"It's incredible," Seyl whispered, his face pressed against the glass. "I never thought the city I live in could look this amazing from above."
Anderson joined him at the window, his expression calm yet thoughtful. "Sometimes," he said, his voice low and wise, "the most extraordinary wonders are right in front of you. But it takes breaking free from the shadows that blind you to truly see them."
Seyl glanced at the old man, his smile widening. For the first time in his life, he felt a deep sense of freedom—a liberation from the expectations and chains of his family.
As they both gazed out at the stunning view, a flock of birds flew alongside the airship, their wings catching the wind currents as they danced in perfect harmony.
The boy smiled, his heart lighter than it had ever been. He was finally free.
In a dimly lit alley, the air was thick with the stench of garbage and rust. Steam hissed softly from pipes jutting out of the crumbling walls, and trash was strewn carelessly along the narrow path. The occasional flicker of a dying streetlamp cast fleeting light on the grim scene.
Through this desolate passage, a CLOAKED MAN walked in silence. His steps were uneven, a faint limp betraying the pain of his battered body. His bare feet left faint smudges of blood on the damp ground, the bruises and cuts on his legs testifying to recent hardship. He moved with quiet purpose, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of beggars and the muffled whispers of the homeless huddled in doorways.
The man's face remained hidden beneath the heavy hood of his cloak, but something about him felt... familiar. An air of quiet power clung to him, mingling uneasily with his obvious vulnerability.
"Hey, you!"
The sharp voice rang out from behind him, cutting through the oppressive silence. A city officer, his uniform faintly glinting under the dim alley lights, was standing several feet away. His hand hovered cautiously near his weapon.
The cloaked man stopped mid-step. Slowly, he tilted his head upward, just enough for the hood to cast deeper shadows over his face. Yet, beneath the veil of darkness, his presence grew heavier, suffocating.
"Turn around! I said, turn around!" the officer barked, his voice faltering slightly as unease crept into his tone.
The man didn't comply. Instead, he remained eerily still, his hidden face lowering slightly as if to think. Then, with an unsettling slowness, he raised his head higher.
The shadows around his hood shifted slightly, revealing nothing but darkness—until his eyes opened.
A piercing blue glow cut through the gloom like twin embers of frozen fire. The officer staggered back instinctively, his heart pounding. The glow wasn't just light; it carried an otherworldly intensity, as if staring directly into the soul of something far beyond human.
For a moment, the alley seemed to hold its breath. The beggars shrank further into the shadows, their murmurs silenced. Even the hissing pipes seemed to quiet, as if the world itself feared to make a sound.
"W-Who are you?" the officer stammered, his earlier confidence evaporating as he reached hesitantly for his weapon.
The cloaked man didn't respond. His glowing eyes lingered on the officer, unblinking, their light cold and unyielding. Then, in one fluid motion, he turned away, his cloak billowing slightly with the movement.
And without a word, he disappeared into the deeper shadows of the alley, leaving behind only the faint glow of his eyes burned into the officer's mind.
The officer stood frozen in the dark alley, his trembling fingers inches from his weapon. The eerie glow of the cloaked man's blue eyes still lingered in his mind, a haunting image that sent a chill down his spine. As the man vanished deeper into the shadows, the officer's breath came in shallow gasps, his courage drained by the inexplicable presence.
Above the alley, an airship soared silently through the misty night sky. Its sleek frame gleamed faintly under the dim moonlight, the bold "AIR EXPRESS" logo emblazoned on its side catching the glow of distant city lights. The massive helium balloon overhead swayed gently with the cool night breeze, propellers humming steadily.
Inside the airship's cozy cabin, Seyl pressed his face against the glass window, his eyes wide with excitement. "Woah! We're here! This is it!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with anticipation.
Anderson leaned back in his seat with a grin, his arms crossed. "Yes, kid, we've arrived. Aurion, the City of Freedom," he said, his tone calm yet tinged with pride.
Seyl glanced over his shoulder at Anderson, his excitement barely contained. "Aurion really lives up to its name, doesn't it? I've read about it, but seeing it from up here is just... incredible."
Anderson chuckled. "It's quite the sight, isn't it? Aurion's a place where people come to start over, to make their own way. No families breathing down your neck, no one telling you who to be. It's a city that lets you be whoever you want."
Seyl turned back to the window, taking in the sprawling view below. The city of Aurion was a dazzling network of glowing streets and towering structures. Unlike Chermio's ethereal gold, Aurion was a symphony of colors—neon blues, vibrant purples, and shimmering silvers crisscrossed the skyline like veins of light. Airships floated gently above the bustling streets, and the sound of distant music and laughter seemed to rise even this far up.
"It's beautiful," Seyl murmured, his tone softer now. His breath fogged up the glass as he spoke. "It's so different from the world I knew... a place where I can finally be free."
Anderson's grin softened as he watched the boy. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know, kid, not everyone gets the chance to make a fresh start. You're lucky you made it this far, and if you play your cards right, Aurion could be everything you're hoping for."
Seyl nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. "I'll make it work," he said firmly. "I'm not going back to the Zephra family. Not ever."
Anderson's expression darkened slightly, his gaze drifting out the window. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But don't underestimate the reach of a family like yours. People like the Zephras don't let loose ends dangle for long."
Seyl frowned, gripping the window frame tightly. "I know. That's why I have to get stronger... smarter. I'll prove I can live my life on my own terms."
Anderson leaned back again, his grin returning. "That's the spirit, kid. Just remember, even the strongest need a little help now and then."
The airship began its descent, the hum of the propellers shifting as the glowing streets of Aurion grew closer. Seyl's heart raced as he watched the city come into sharper focus—its vibrant lights, its towering spires, and its thrumming energy calling to him like a beacon.
As the airship touched down on a massive docking platform illuminated by radiant blue lights, Seyl turned back to Anderson with a grin. "Thanks for bringing me here, old man. I owe you."
Anderson waved him off, chuckling. "Nah, you don't owe me a thing, kid. Just go out there and make your mark. Aurion's got plenty of room for dreamers like you."
Seyl adjusted his helmet and slung his bag over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with excitement and resolve. "I will. Just watch me."
As they disembarked, the vibrant hum of Aurion surrounded them, a symphony of life and freedom. Above them, the night sky stretched wide, the stars glittering like promises waiting to be fulfilled.
As Seyl ran to the crowded road of Aurion, the electric energy of Aurion hit him like a wave. The city pulsed with life—streets teemed with people of every kind, from merchants peddling exotic wares to performers juggling flames in the air. Neon signs flickered above bustling avenues, advertising everything from Arcana-powered devices to world-renowned delicacies. The air hummed with the distant sounds of music, conversation, and the rhythmic clatter of machinery.
Seyl wandered through the lively streets of Aurion, his helmet tucked under his arm as his eyes darted from marvel to marvel. The city pulsed with life, a vibrant kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and scents. Vendors lined the bustling roads, their carts overflowing with glowing Arcana crystals, exotic fruits, and intricately crafted trinkets.
"Step right up! Enchanted scarves, woven with starlight!" a merchant shouted, holding up a shimmering fabric that sparkled like the night sky.
"Try the mechanical sparrow!" called another, gesturing to a tiny bird-like automaton hopping on his stand. It chirped melodiously, its golden feathers catching the light.
Seyl couldn't help but pause, captivated by the mechanical bird. "That's amazing," he muttered to himself, watching as a child bought one and giggled as it fluttered into the air.
Further along, a robotic musician strummed a soulful tune on a steel guitar, its glowing fingers moving deftly across the strings. A small crowd clapped along, some dropping coins into a tin can at its feet.
"Wow..." Seyl whispered, his gaze lifting toward the towering spires that loomed in the distance. The city seemed endless, its streets weaving a maze of wonders. Aurion wasn't just a place—it was alive, brimming with energy and possibility.
He passed through the Market District, his eyes widening at the diversity of goods. One stall showcased enchanted jewelry that pulsed faintly with light, while another displayed lifelike mechanical pets powered by Arcana crystals. Seyl stopped briefly to admire a golden automaton, its delicate gears whirring softly as it waved at a group of curious children.
"Only in Aurion..." he murmured with a grin, shaking his head in disbelief.
The aroma of sizzling meats, spicy stews, and sugary confections lured him further into a bustling food bazaar. His stomach growled loudly, betraying his hunger.
"Alright, alright," he muttered, chuckling to himself. He approached a vendor grilling skewers of Havel meat, the smoky, savory scent making his mouth water.
"You've got a good eye, young man," the vendor said, handing him a skewer. "Best in the city! Only three crescents."
Seyl paid with the money Aderson gave him and took a bite, savoring the rich, smoky flavor. "This... is amazing," he said between bites, the taste a nostalgic reminder of simpler times.
Eventually, his wandering brought him to a quieter part of the city. The lively streets gave way to a grand plaza, its center dominated by an imposing structure: the Hall of Heroes.
The building loomed before him, its massive archway framed by intricate carvings depicting legendary figures locked in battle. The entire structure seemed to hum with a quiet, otherworldly energy, as if the very walls held the stories of the past.
"This... is incredible," Seyl whispered, his voice filled with awe as he approached.
At the entrance, two towering statues stood guard, their swords pointed downward in a gesture of eternal vigilance. Their presence was both imposing and reassuring, as if silently promising protection to those who entered.
Seyl hesitated for a moment, craning his neck to take in the sheer scale of the monument. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
The interior was vast and echoing, illuminated by an ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. Rows of sculptures lined the hall, each one capturing a hero in their defining moment. Beneath each statue, plaques detailed their stories—tales of wizards who wielded Arcana to protect their lands, warriors who forged unbreakable techniques with Arcyn, and innovators who pushed the boundaries of invention.
Seyl stopped in front of one statue in particular. It depicted a young man holding a glowing blade aloft, his expression one of fierce determination. The plaque beneath read:
"Krelos Ardent – The Liberator of Aurion."
Seyl stared at the statue, feeling a strange sense of kinship with the figure. "He looks like he fought for his freedom too," he murmured.
"You're not wrong," came a quiet voice from behind him.
Startled, Seyl turned to see an elderly man emerging from the shadows. He wore a simple robe, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp and knowing.
"I didn't see you there," Seyl said, trying to mask his surprise.
The old man smiled faintly, his eyes flicking to the statue. "The Hall of Heroes tends to have that effect. It's a place where past and future collide." He gestured toward the figure of Krelos. "Do you see yourself in him, young one?"
Seyl hesitated before nodding. "Maybe. I just... I want to be free. To carve my own path, like he did."
The old man studied him for a moment, his gaze penetrating yet kind. "Freedom is a worthy goal," he said slowly. "But remember, boy, freedom comes with a cost. It requires strength—not just of the body, but of the spirit. Are you prepared for that?"
Seyl's eyes narrowed slightly, his determination hardening. "I've made it this far," he said firmly. "I'm ready to fight for it."
The old man nodded, his smile deepening. "Good. Then you've come to the right place. Aurion is a city of freedom, but it's also a city of challenges. Never forget that."
With that, the old man turned and disappeared deeper into the hall, his quiet footsteps fading into the vastness.
As the old man vanished into the shadows of the hall, Seyl lingered in front of the statue of Krelos Ardent. He tilted his head back to gaze at the glowing ceiling above, the soft light casting a serene glow across the room. Slowly, he sank down onto the polished floor, leaning his back against the statue's base.
For the first time in what felt like days, Seyl allowed himself to breathe. Truly breathe. The quiet hum of the Hall of Heroes enveloped him, a stark contrast to the chaos he had endured.
He rested his helmet beside him and ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as the weight of his journey began to settle in. "Four days," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. "Has it really only been four days?"
He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the whirlwind of events. The escape from his family felt like a lifetime ago. The relentless pursuit, the desperate battles, meeting Anderson, and now standing here in Aurion—the City of Freedom. Every step had been a struggle, but somehow, he had made it.
"I've fought so hard to get here," he murmured. "But what now? What comes next?"
His thoughts drifted to the old man's words. Freedom comes with a cost. Are you prepared for that? Seyl clenched his fists, the memory of his family's cold, unyielding expectations flashing through his mind.
"Freedom's worth any cost," he said quietly, a spark of determination lighting in his chest. "I'll make my own path, no matter what it takes."
The hall's gentle hum seemed to respond to his resolve, its soothing rhythm lulling him into a sense of calm. He tilted his head back against the statue, staring up at the figure of Krelos. The Liberator's gaze seemed to meet his own, as if silently encouraging him to keep moving forward.
Before long, the exhaustion from days of running and fighting began to creep over Seyl. His eyelids grew heavy, and his breathing slowed. Despite the grandeur of the hall, it felt oddly comforting, like a safe haven amidst the chaos of his life.
As sleep began to overtake him, Seyl's last thoughts were of hope. For the first time in his life, he felt a glimmer of something new—a chance to live on his own terms.
He drifted off, his body relaxing against the statue of Krelos Ardent. His peaceful expression hinted at the promise of a new beginning, a fresh chapter in a life that had only just begun to unfold.
Above him, the glow of the hall dimmed slightly, as if offering him the rest he so desperately needed. Outside, the city of Aurion thrummed with life, ready to welcome him to the adventures and challenges of tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be a wonderful day, filled with endless possibilities and the freedom he had fought so hard to find.