The Anomaly's Path

I sat up before my eyes were fully open.

"Mia."

The name felt like a reflex, a desperate prayer. My memory hit me like a physical blow—Mia on her knees, the blood on her face, her voice whispering.

Save me, Leo.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn’t feel the cold stone against my bare feet. I only felt the panic. I had to go. I had to save them before it was too late. I stood up, but the room spun. My balance was gone. My mind refused to process the empty space.

The children.

They had taken the children. Lily. Tobin. Sera. All of them dragged away by the shadow figures while I lay in a pool of my own blood and watched.

I have to save them...

I looked around the room for the first time.

It was small and grey, with stone walls and a single window that let in pale morning light. A wooden chair sat in the corner. A pitcher of water rested on a table by the bed. My clothes were folded neatly on a chest at the foot of the mattress—not my old clothes, but new ones.

I did not care about any of that.

I grabbed the shirt from the chest and pulled it over my head. The fabric was rough against my skin, unfamiliar. I did not bother with the buttons. I just needed to cover myself. I needed to leave.

I have to hurry. Otherwise, they will all be dead.

Voices drifted from the hallway. Footsteps approached, light and casual.

The door opened.

A guy walked in, followed by two other knights—a man with a scarred face and a woman with short-cropped hair and sharp eyes. They were laughing about something, their voices light, casual, as if they were in a tavern instead of a ruined village.

"...and then he said, ’That is not a horse, that is your wife,’" the scarred man said, grinning.

The woman snorted. "You are terrible, Ren."

Ren opened his mouth to respond, then stopped.

His eyes landed on me.

I was standing in the middle of the room, shirt half-buttoned, barefoot, my hair a mess, my eyes probably wild. I must have looked like a ghost. Judging by the way his face went pale, I probably looked like one too.

"You—" He stammered. "You are awake."

The other two knights stopped laughing. The woman’s hand went to her sword. The scarred man’s eyes narrowed.

I did not have time for this.

"Who are y—" I stopped. "Actually, It does not matter. You must have saved my life. I will repay you someday. But I have to go now."

I walked toward the door.

I tried to walk toward the door. The scarred man stepped in my path. "Hold on, kid. You can’t just—"

"Move," I growled.

"You heard him. Sit down and wait. You aren’t going anywhere until you talk to the Captain," the woman added, her hand moving to her sword.

"I do not have time to talk to anyone."

"I don’t have time!" I shouted. "Mia is going to die! The children are waiting for me! I don’t know how much time has passed, but if I don’t go, they’re dead! Let me go!"

Ren’s face softened. "Look, I understand that you are upset, but—"

"You do not understand anything."

I tried to push past them, but my body was paper. The scarred man grabbed my shoulder. The woman blocked the exit. I lost it. I fought, I kicked, I thrashed with my one hand, but I was so weak they barely had to try.

"Calm down," he said.

"Let me go!"

"You need to rest. You are in no condition to—"

"I do not care about my condition! I do not care if I am weak! I have to go! They are waiting for me! Mia is waiting for me! She is crying! She is scared! And I am here, doing nothing, while they drag her away to gods know where!"

The woman’s sword wavered. "Ren, go get the Captain."

Ren hesitated.

"Now!"

He ran.

The scarred man tightened his grip on my arm. "Just sit down and wait. The Captain will be here soon."

"I told you, I do not have time for this. I have people to save."

More footsteps in the hallway. More voices. The door opened wider, and more knights poured into the room. Someone grabbed my other arm. Someone else pushed me back toward the bed.

I fought.

I punched and kicked and thrashed, but my body would not cooperate. My punches landed like feathers. My kicks were slow and weak. They barely felt me.

"Let me go! Please!"

"Secure him!" someone yelled.

Someone shoved me to the floor. The impact drove the air from my lungs, and then they were on top of me—hands on my back, my shoulders, my legs, pressing me down, keeping me still.

"Let me go!" I screamed. "Please! I have to save them! I have to go! They are waiting for me! I do not know how much time has passed! I do not know if they are still alive! Please!"

The knights did not move. They just held me down, their faces hard, their eyes cold.

I thrashed until my muscles burned, but eventually, I stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because I was broken. I lay there on the cold floor, pinned like an animal, and I sobbed. I wasn’t a warrior anymore. I was just a boy who had lost everything.

The room went quiet.

"Let him go."

The voice was like a blade of ice. The weight on my back vanished instantly.

The hands on me pulled away.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my vision blurry with tears and snot. The woman stood over me—tall, with long black hair like ink and eyes of electric blue. Behind her stood a handsome man with soft blonde hair and golden-blue eyes.

He looked friendly, almost jolly, but I could tell he was dangerous.

She turned to the knights who had been holding me down."What happened?"

"Captain," the scarred knight said, saluting. "He woke up and tried to leave. He’s... mentally disturbed, Ma’am."

I looked up at her, my face a mess. "I have to go... you don’t understand... what do any of you know about me? You found me in the ruins, but you didn’t see it. You didn’t see them die."

I pointed a trembling finger at them, my voice rising into a hysterical scream. "What the fuck do you all know?! Roran is dead! My master is dead! Marta, the children... I watched them be dragged away! I sat in the blood and did nothing!"

I fell back to my knees, my fist slamming into the stone.

Thud!

"It’s because I’m weak!" I cried, punching the ground again.

Thud!

"I’m so goddamn weak! I should have died, not them! Me! I was supposed to be the strong one!" I punched the stone until my knuckles split, the blood smearing across the floor. "I have to save them... I have to go... please..."

I punched the floor again.

"Roran told me I would be stronger than him. He believed in me. He died believing in me. and what did I do? Nothing. I did nothing. I... have to go..."

Slap!

The sound echoed through the entire room. The knights gasped.

My head snapped to the side. My cheek burned with a sharp, stinging heat. I froze, my hand slowly moving to touch the welt. "Huh?"

The Captain crouched in front of me. She grabbed my chin with a grip that felt like a vice, forcing me to look at her cold eyes.

"Pathetic," she spat. "You are truly, miserably weak."

"You say you’re weak?" she continued, her voice biting. "Yes. You are. You say they died because of you? That’s true too. They died because you weren’t enough. They had to sacrifice themselves to save your pathetic ass. That is the reality."

"Seraphina, I think that’s enough. He is just a kid," the blonde man said softly.

She shot him a look that could kill.

He raised his hands and stepped back. "Ahem... right. Continue. I’m just a wall. I hear nothing."

Seraphina turned back to me. "Do you think you are the only one who has lost someone?" She pointed at the scarred man. "His wife died in a monster attack three years ago. He watched her bleed out in his arms."

The scarred man’s face went pale. He looked away.

She pointed at the woman with the sword. "Her brother was killed in the border wars. She carries his sword with her everywhere she goes."

The woman’s jaw tightened. Her hand moved to the hilt of her blade.

She pointed at Ren. "His father was a knight. He died when Ren was twelve. Ren watched him fall."

Ren’s eyes were wet. He did not speak.

"Every person in this room has lost someone," Seraphina said. "Every person in this world has lost someone. Grief is not special. Loss is not unique. You are not the only one who has suffered."

She stood up.

"But look at them. They did not curl up on the floor and cry. They picked up their weapons. They trained. They fought. They became stronger. Because that is what you do when you lose someone. You do not let their death be meaningless. You honor them by living, by growing, by becoming someone they would be proud of."

She pointed at me.

"Your master. Your friends. The people who died protecting you. Do you think they want you to sit here and cry? Do you think they died so you could waste their sacrifice?"

I did not answer.

"Answer me."

"...No," I whispered.

"No. They did not. They died because they believed in you. They died because they thought you were worth saving. They died because they saw something in you that you cannot see in yourself."

Her voice softened. Just a little.

"Do you think they would be happy to see you like this? Do you think your master would be proud of the man kneeling before me?"

My throat tightened.

"He would not. He would call you a fool. He would ruffle your hair and tell you to stop being an idiot. And then he would shove a sword in your hand and tell you to get back to work."

A tear slid down my cheek.

She clicked her tongue.

"If you want to go, go. No one will stop you." She stepped back. "But ask yourself this. In the state you are in now, can you save anyone? The people waiting for you—do they want to be saved by a man who cannot stand without crying? A man who cannot fight without falling? A man who could not protect them the first time?"

I clenched my jaw.

"The answer is no. They do not want that. They want someone strong. Someone who will not fail them again."

She turned to leave, her cape snapping behind her.

I clenched my jaw, my heart burning. "So what?! What am I supposed to do?!" My voice came out raw, broken. "How do I save them? Tell me. Please. I will do anything."

She stopped at the door but didn’t look back. "I’m not your guardian. Find that answer yourself. But I’ll tell you this: Become strong. Strong enough that nobody ever dares to look down on you again. Strong enough to protect what you love, so you don’t have to cry like a child ever again."

She walked out of the room.

The blonde man stayed behind.

He watched me for a moment, then sighed. "Sorry about her. She is... intense. But she doesn’t mean it the way it sounds. She just... cares in her own way. She lost her family too. A long time ago. She could not protect them. That is why she hates weakness. It reminds her of herself. Of the time she wasted crying instead of fighting."

He walked over to me and crouched down. He reached out and ruffled my hair, gentle and warm.

"She wants you to save your people. More than you know. But she will not hold your hand while you do it. She expects you to stand on your own."

He stood up.

"Get some rest. Eat something. You will not save anyone if you collapse before you even leave."

He walked to the door.

"Oh, and one more thing." He looked back at me, his golden-blue eyes soft. "The people who died for you... they did not do it because they thought you were weak. They did it because they thought you were worth it. Do not prove them wrong."

He left.

I sat there on the cold stone floor, alone in the empty room, and I did not move for a long time.

_

Author’s Note:

Hey everyone. Sorry I’m late today. Got busy with some stuff.

Next Chapter is coming soon.

Promise.