When Eitan opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was emptiness.
Not pain. Not sickness. Just a strange, hollow drain, as if something inside him had been used up and not yet filled again. His head ached faintly. Even opening his eyes had taken more effort than it should have.
The voice came back to him at once.
When your mental energy is exhausted, you will return on your own.
So this was what she had meant.
He stayed still until the room stopped feeling distant.
Then he turned his head.
Mom was beside the bed.
She must have been half asleep in the chair, because the moment she saw his eyes open, she jerked forward like someone had struck a bell inside her.
"Eitan?"
Her voice broke on his name.
That was enough.
Talia woke on the sofa at once. Grandma, who had been sitting nearby with prayer beads in her hand, looked up so fast the beads slipped through her fingers. Before Eitan could say anything, all three of them were already at the bed.
Mom reached him first. Her hands went straight to his face, then into his hair, then back to his cheeks again, as if she could not settle because she needed to make sure he was really there. She kissed his forehead, his cheek, his hair, no care at all for how frantic it looked.
Grandma was right behind her, crying openly now that she no longer had to hold it in. She touched his temple, kissed his forehead, whispered his name in a trembling voice that sounded half like prayer.
Talia came in from the other side and half bent over the mattress, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other brushing his hair back before she kissed his cheek hard enough to almost be angry.
"You're awake—"
"Oh, thank God—"
"Look at me, darling, are you alright?"
"Say something, Eitan—"
Their voices ran into each other until he could barely catch any of it.
He tried to answer and found his throat too dry.
Mom caught it immediately. "Water."
"I have it," Talia said, already grabbing the glass from the bedside table.
Before she could get it into his hand, hurried footsteps sounded outside. Then Dad came in first, Grandpa right behind him, both moving much faster than they usually did.
They stopped the moment they saw him awake.
Neither spoke right away.
Then Dad crossed the room and put one hand against the side of Eitan's head, then briefly at the back of his neck, not fussing, not hovering, just touching him once like he needed that proof for himself too.
"How are you feeling?"
Talia finally pressed the glass into his hand. Eitan pushed himself up a little, and Dad steadied him with a hand behind his back. He drank slowly at first, then properly.
The water helped.
Not much. Enough.
When he lowered the glass, he looked at all of them together.
Mom in yesterday's clothes. Talia with her hair a mess and her eyes swollen. Grandma crying without trying to hide it. Dad in shirtsleeves, tie gone. Grandpa breathing a little harder than usual, like he had come fast and not cared who saw it.
He had scared them badly.
Mom cupped his face again. "You scared us so much."
There was no blame in it. Only relief, and fear not fully gone.
Grandma nodded at once, tears slipping down freely now. "We were so worried."
Talia laughed weakly and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "You have no idea what this room has been like."
That almost made him smile.
Almost.
He leaned back into the pillow and let his eyes close for a second. "I'm alright," he said quietly. "I just feel… drained."
Dad's expression changed. "Drained how?"
Eitan opened his eyes again. "Not sick. Just empty. And I have a headache."
Mom's hand went back into his hair at once.
"I need to sleep," he said. "I'm really tired."
Dad nodded once. "The doctors are in the guest room. I had someone sent for them the second you woke up, so they should be here any moment. When you were unconscious, they kept saying everything was fine and they couldn't find anything wrong. Now that you're awake, let them check you first."
Eitan looked at him, then at the door, then back at the bed.
He really did not want that right now.
His head hurt. His mind still felt scraped thin. More than anything, he wanted to sleep until his thoughts felt like his own again.
"Dad," he said, voice rough, "I know something happened to me. Just let me sleep for a bit first. I'll tell you everything after, alright?"
Dad looked at him, then at Mom, who clearly wanted to object and was only stopping because she could see how exhausted he was.
Finally, Dad nodded.
"Alright," he said. "Sleep first."
Mom bent and kissed his forehead again. Grandma did the same to his temple. Talia fixed the pillow behind his head and pulled the blanket up like he was still ten.
"We're right outside," Mom said softly.
He gave the smallest nod he could manage.
They moved back slowly after that. None of them wanted to leave the bed, but all of them could see he was already fading again. Talia stayed closest until the end. She took his hand, squeezed it once, then let go.
When the room finally quieted, Eitan closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep almost at once.
Dad was the one who finally got the others out of the room.
"He's asleep," he said quietly. "Now all of you go rest too."
Mom looked back at the bed. "I don't want him waking up alone."
"There are staff outside," Dad said. "If he wakes, someone will tell us."
It had been nearly twelve hours since the beach. That showed on all of them now. Mom looked pale. Talia's eyes were swollen from crying and lack of sleep. Grandma had the kind of tiredness that settled into the bones. Even Grandpa had gone quiet.
Dad looked from one to the next. "Go."
Grandpa nodded first. "He's right."
Mom stayed a few seconds longer, brushing Eitan's hair back once before stepping away. Talia muttered that she wasn't going far, but she went. Grandma followed after wiping her face. Grandpa went with her. Dad was the last one out. He switched off the brighter lamp, left only the softer one burning, and closed the door behind him.
For the first time since the beach, the house slept.
When Eitan woke again, he felt much better.
The emptiness was gone. Only a slight headache remained, dull and easy to ignore. His thoughts were clear now. He sat up slowly and waited to see if the room would tilt.
Nothing happened.
Good enough.
He got out of bed.
The maid outside his door nearly jumped when she saw him.
"Young master! You should be resting."
"I did rest."
"Your family said—"
"I know what my family said." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm hungry. Tell the kitchen to make something. Anything decent. I'm going to bathe first."
"Yes, young master."
By the time he reached the bath, he realized just how hungry he was.
The hot water helped too. By the time he dressed in fresh clothes and came downstairs, he felt almost normal again.
The dining room was empty. Late sunlight lay across the long table. Beyond the terrace, the sea flashed blue. Someone from the kitchen had clearly hurried the moment the maid passed on his order, because a full meal was already waiting for him.
He sat down and started eating without ceremony.
For a little while, there was only food and quiet.
Then footsteps sounded in the hall.
Mom came in first, still looking half-awake, one hand gathering the belt of her robe closer around her waist. The moment she saw him seated at the table, she stopped.
"Eitan?"
He looked up with a piece of toast in his hand. "Morning."
She crossed the room immediately. "What are you doing here? You should be in bed."
"I was hungry."
"That is not an answer."
"It's a very good answer."
Mom came to stand beside him and touched his forehead automatically, then his cheek. "How are you feeling, darling?"
"Fine now," he said. "Just a slight headache. I took a bath and I feel much better."
She looked at him carefully. "No. First the doctor checks you again."
He sighed, but only because he had expected this. "Okay. Let them check."
Mom relaxed a little at once.
"But," he added, setting down the toast, "I know what happened to me."
That changed her face immediately.
"What do you mean?"
He met her eyes. "Let everyone come first. I don't want to say it five times."
She watched him for a second, then nodded. "Fine."
The doctor came first. No fever. No weakness. Pulse normal. Eyes clear. He found nothing wrong, which only made Mom less satisfied.
After the doctor left, she took Eitan to one of the smaller sitting rooms.
It was bright and comfortable, with long sofas and wide windows looking out over the sea. He had barely sat down before she gave him a look that clearly meant she wanted him beside her, not across from her.
He went without argument.
By the time he lowered himself onto the sofa, the last bit of tiredness had crept back in. So he rested his head in Mom's lap, half because it was comfortable and half because it stopped her from hovering.
Her fingers went into his hair at once.
Neither of them said much while they waited.
Talia came in first, hair still damp from a rushed shower. Dad followed, fresh shirt on now. Grandpa and Grandma came last and took the chairs opposite the sofa.
Once everyone had settled, Dad looked at him. "You wanted to explain."
Eitan sat up properly.
So he told them.
He started with the black sea. The sky with no stars. The voice answering before he had seen anyone. He repeated the conversation as closely as he could remember it. He left nothing out — not the offer of money, power, and immortality, not the word covenant, not the word Herald, not the part that mattered most.
"It said it wanted me to conquer everything."
Talia sat forward. "That thing sounds insane."
Grandpa gave a dry grunt. "Or honest. Which is worse."
Mom's face had gone pale again, but this time it wasn't fear. It was anger.
"And you refused?"
Eitan looked at her. "Of course I refused."
Talia let out a breath. "Good."
Dad had not moved much while Eitan spoke, but his eyes had sharpened more and more as the shape of it became clear. "You did the right thing."
Grandma nodded at once. "Anything that offers the world before telling you what it is should never be trusted."
"It sounded like some devil or a cult leader," Talia said. "The way those things start, all promises first and the trap later."
"That was exactly what it sounded like," Eitan said.
Mom's hand stayed in his hair. "If it reaches you again, you tell us immediately."
This time Talia spoke at the same moment.
"Immediately."
He looked from one to the other and nodded. "I will."
Dad leaned back a little in his chair. "The pendant remains sealed."
"Good," Mom said at once.
Talia folded her arms. "It should stay sealed forever."
Eitan almost smiled. "That would be convenient."
No one smiled back.
The room went quiet after that.
Mom kept running her fingers through his hair. Grandpa looked toward Dad. Dad looked toward the windows for a moment, thinking. Talia already looked ready to pick a fight with something she could not see. Grandma sat very still, hands folded together.
Days turned into weeks after that.
At first, everyone stayed more alert than usual. Mom checked on him too often. Talia stopped pretending she wasn't watching him. Dad worked from home more. Grandpa and Grandma called almost every other day after they left, both of them pretending they had other reasons.
Then life settled.
Breakfast returned to normal. Talia started stealing from his plate again. Mom stopped touching his forehead every time he entered a room. Dad stopped looking at him like he expected him to vanish if left alone too long.
The pendant stayed sealed.
No one mentioned it unless they meant to.
Months passed.
And then one night, with no warning at all, Eitan opened his eyes beneath a sky with no stars.
The black sea stretched under his feet.
He stared into the dark for a second, then sighed.
"Again? You really are persistent for such a mighty being."
A low snort moved through the silence.
"I can agree," the voice said, "to some of your conditions."
That almost made him laugh.
"Some?" he said. "No, no. I was actually thinking of adding more."
The sea went still.
Then the world around him changed.
It wasn't a blast of light or some obvious display. It was worse than that. The air itself seemed to press down. The black water under his feet trembled. Something vast, cold, and old brushed the edge of his awareness, and his whole body went rigid before he could stop it.
Whatever this thing was, it was powerful.
Truly powerful.
The voice came again, colder now.
"Stop pushing your luck, mortal. If I were not in a predicament, I would have killed you already."
Eitan stayed still for a beat longer than he liked.
Then he lifted both hands a little. "Alright, alright. I was joking."
The pressure eased.
Not fully. Enough.
He let out a breath and looked into the darkness again. "Then according to my conditions, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"
Silence.
Then, at last, the answer came.
"I am Azravel."
The name settled over the black sea between them.
Eitan stood there, looking out into the dark, and knew at once that this was only the beginning.