The Final Farewell: The Weight of Silence
The sunset was fading behind the nearby hills, leaving behind a faint trace of orange that painted the house's horizon with a tinge of eternal melancholy. Alberto stood in the center of the main hallway. His massive body filled the space, his long shadow stretching across the wooden walls as if swallowing every speck of light. He stood like an impregnable dam, his shoulders broad as if they carried the weight of the entire world, but those who looked deep into his eyes would clearly see a storm of suppressed pain, a whirlpool of memories that refused to leave, and a sense of guilt gnawing silently at his soul.
A profound silence reigned in the hall, a silence that roared with the sounds of labored breathing. Then, with words that sounded like heavy stones falling into a calm pond, creating endless ripples of disturbance, he said in a husky, raspy voice, his tone bearing the weight of responsibility: "Tomorrow... I leave. I am heading to a war that will determine all of our fates, a war that shows no mercy and does not spare the innocent."
Hylas stood opposite him. She did not tremble, nor did she shed a tear in front of everyone; she understood perfectly what lay behind his words. She stood with a firmness befitting the wife of a great commander, stood straight, and clasped her fingers tightly until her knuckles turned white, trying to stifle a cry trapped in her throat. Her eyes were reading his facial features, memorizing every detail, every wrinkle, and every memory that would be obscured by dust.
Amidst this tension, young Arius stepped forward, with his innocence breaking the sharpness of the atmosphere, and tugged at the edge of his father's garment, looking up at him with wide eyes reflecting a purity untainted by the world. He asked in a clear, childish voice: "Father... why all this sadness? And where are you going on your journey?"
Alberto leaned down, placing his large, rough hand on his child's head. He felt the softness of his hair under his palm, and his throat choked with a bitterness he could not describe. He said in a slightly trembling voice, trying to coat the bitter truth with a white lie: "To work, my little one... the world of adults is full of obligations, but don't worry, I will return very soon... wait for me." The last word, "soon," echoed in his ears like a condemnation, as if he were wrapping his pain in a veil of illusion.
As for Elios, the older brother, he stood in the dark corner. He did not utter a word; his silence was more eloquent than any protest; his silence was a muffled scream. He was watching his father intently, seeing in his departure not just an absence, but the beginning of a forced journey of maturity. He held back his tears, bit his lower lip until it almost bled, and raised his head with artificial pride, realizing in the depths of his soul that the role of "man of the house" was no longer just a description, but had become a burden now resting on his small shoulders.
Before taking his final steps toward the door, Alberto whispered to Hylas, words no one else heard, which served as final testaments, incantations to protect what remained of their lineage: "Hylas... listen to me carefully. Never measure Arius's strength based on what you see now, and do not let them, no matter what happens, be swept away and reach that hideous state we saw in the last war... do not let them lose their humanity." Hylas nodded, promising him with tears she held back behind her eyelids, only to smile a faint smile that was more painful than crying. Alberto left, leaving behind a void that nothing could fill, and hearts beating with anticipation tainted by fear.
Display of Power: A Symphony of Contradiction
In the backyard, where the sun's rays caressed the branches and created dancing shadows on the grass, Elios stood tall. His muscles pulsed with tireless vitality. He walked toward a huge black rock, standing in the middle of the garden like a tombstone, and with complete ease, without blinking an eye, he lifted it with one hand as if it were a feather. Not satisfied with that, he headed toward a small mound of dirt, and with a swift strike of his palm, he turned the soil into flying dust.
Arius shouted from afar, his eyes shining with childish fascination: "Brother! You are truly amazing! I wish I could be like you one day." Elios turned to him, wiped the sweat with his hand, and gave a proud smile that made him look older than his actual age: "And you will become the same, Arius. Just wait, time and training are the key."
But reality was like a whip lashing Arius's back. As soon as Elios went off to practice far away, Arius lunged toward the same rock. He tensed his small muscles, his face flushed with blood, he held his breath until his lungs almost exploded, and he tried to mimic his brother's movement. But the rock remained in its place, cold, motionless, indifferent to his efforts. He tried to break a dry branch with his small hands, but the branch was stronger than his will. In that world that only recognizes numbers and energy units, Arius felt he was nothing but a "glitch" in a complex cosmic system. Nevertheless, he did not cry; instead, he closed his eyes tightly, and ignited in his depths a mysterious determination: "I will surpass everyone... one day I will shatter all these numbers."
The Purple Secret: A Pulse in the Void
Evening came, with its usual chill. While Hylas was bathing Arius in the warm room, her hands slid over his back, and suddenly, her breath hitched. Her eyes fell on something she had never seen before: a mysterious purple swirl, in the center of his back, as if it were a tattoo inked by fate in a moment of carelessness.
"Mother? Why did you stop? Is there something on my back?" Arius asked with innocent curiosity, as water dripped from his wet hair. Hylas hesitated for a moment, feeling her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. She remembered the "voice" Arius spoke of in his visions, that mystery surrounding his existence. She replied in a voice she tried hard to make natural: "No, my dear... nothing, just a normal birthmark."
But her heart was trembling with terror. It was not a normal mark; it was moving, expanding, breathing, as if it were a living creature feeding on his body's energy, or perhaps he was the one feeding on it. Is this the reason for his weakness? Or is it the immense power whose time has not yet come, which will change the face of the world? Hylas feared the truth, feared admitting that her son carried in his body a secret that might destroy him, so she decided to bury her doubts under a mantle of tenderness, and hugged him tightly, as if trying to protect him from himself.
Tense Dinner: The Struggle of Ambition
Elios had just returned, his clothes dusty, his eyes shining with the brilliance of warriors. He sat at the table and began to speak with wild enthusiasm: "Mother! Today I discovered that my strength reached 1800 units! I am at the elite level now! I can do so much... I can be a commander in the army, I can contribute to destroying fortresses... Why don't we consider strength a child's game? The world needs people like me!"
Hylas froze in her place, the spoon fell from her hand with a sharp sound that rang throughout the room. She saw in his eyes the same reckless glitter she had seen in Alberto's eyes before he left... the same path that led to pain.
"Enough!" Hylas shouted, and slammed the table so hard that the plates shook. She stood up quickly, and placed her hands over Arius's ears so his hearing would not be tainted by talk of blood and wars. She said in a voice trembling with firmness and fear: "You are just a child, Elios! The power you speak of without mercy, and without wisdom, is nothing but pure destruction. From this moment on, you are forbidden from going to the training zones, and you are forbidden from accompanying those reckless people who lure you with false heroics."
A suffocating silence descended. The shine in Elios's eyes broke, turning into a look of dejection and reproach, and he left the table in heavy silence, heading to his room to lock the door behind him. Arius remained seated, contemplating his mother with looks filled with confusion. Why does everyone hate the power he craves so much? Why do sadness and darkness prevail whenever his father's name is mentioned or power is mentioned?
The Night and the Muffled Whisper
Night fell, and the faint moonlight broke through the window, to spill over the bodies of her two sleeping children. Hylas sat by the window, watching them. One, Elios, possesses elite strength but lacks wisdom and calm. The other, Arius, possesses a pure heart, and a mysterious mark, but lacks any tangible power unit.
She looked at Alberto's picture hanging on the wall, a picture the war had not yet taken, and asked bitterly: "Will you return, Alberto? And will you find our children as you left them? Or will time change them in an unpredictable way, in a way that makes them strangers to themselves?"
In his room, Arius was lost in a deep sleep, but he was not calm. He began to feel a strange heat, a heat that did not resemble the pain of wounds, but resembled a giant engine, an ancient gear beginning to turn slowly in the depths of his soul. The heat of the purple [mark] on his back was rising, as if it were seeds of legendary power finally beginning to sprout, on that night that history—if written—will remember as the beginning of everything.