Griswa, soaked and battered by the relentless storm, urged Silyahun forward. The thunderstorm raged across the vast expanse of sky, lightning tearing through the darkness with fierce intensity. Every roar of thunder resonated deep within his chest, a reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. The storm was merciless, pelting them with heavy rain, and Griswa clung to Silyahun's back, his grip tightened by the sheer force of the wind.
They flew over the desolate landscape, the storm clouds swirling ominously above. Below them, the once-familiar terrain now looked alien, shadows stretching and warping under the sporadic flashes of lightning. The weight of the unconscious bodies of Yesdar and Malaes made Silyahun's flight slower, more labored. Each beat of the dragon's wings felt like an act of defiance against the tempest that sought to ground them.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity battling the elements, they reached the chasm. It was a sanctuary hidden from the fury of the storm above, a place where they could find some semblance of shelter. Silyahun descended into the depths of the chasm, the walls rising around them, offering a reprieve from the lashing winds and rain. The storm's roar dulled to a distant growl, replaced by the eerie stillness of the cavern.
Griswa dismounted first, his legs unsteady from the long flight and the residual adrenaline coursing through his veins. He turned back to Silyahun and carefully lifted Malaes from the creature's back. Her body was limp, her breathing shallow but steady. He carried her inside one of the larger caves, the darkness of the interior a stark contrast to the storm's chaos outside.
Inside, he found a rock that jutted out in the rough shape of a pillow. Gently, he laid Malaes down, positioning her head on the makeshift pillow. He brushed a few strands of wet hair from her face, his fingers lingering momentarily, as if ensuring she was still with him. The cave provided a cold, hard refuge, but it was better than the storm outside.
Next, Griswa returned to Silyahun and repeated the process with Yesdar. He was just as unconscious, his clothes soaked and clinging to his body. Griswa's muscles strained as he lifted Yesdar, the weight of his friend combined with his own exhaustion making every step a challenge. He carried Yesdar into the same cave and placed him beside Malaes, arranging him with as much care as he could muster.
With his companions secured, Griswa finally allowed himself to collapse against the wall near the cave's entrance. The storm continued its rampage outside, the wind howling through the narrow openings of the chasm, but inside the cave, there was an uneasy calm. The night was long and seemed endless, every minute dragging by with excruciating slowness.
Griswa stared out at the storm, his mind replaying the events that had led them here. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving a hollow sense of regret and exhaustion in its wake. He had managed to save Malaes and Yesdar, but the others… the others were gone. The weight of that realization pressed down on him, a heavy burden that mingled with the unending sound of rain and thunder.
He watched the storm rage on, its energy undiminished. It was as if nature itself mourned the fallen, expressing its grief through violent outbursts. The flashes of lightning illuminated the chasm sporadically, casting fleeting, eerie glows over the jagged rocks. The thunder followed, a constant reminder of the world outside their temporary sanctuary.
His clothes clung to his skin, soaked through and through. He stayed near the cave's entrance, his mind not wandering to the fallen friends but rather focusing on the immediate concern: how to break the news to Malaes when she woke up. Her father, Sivera, was dead. The thought weighed heavily on him, but it was a practical concern rather than an emotional one.
He glanced back at Malaes and Yesdar. They were still unconscious, their breaths steady but faint. In the dim light of the cave, they looked almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the violence they had just escaped. Griswa knew they would wake up eventually, and when they did, they would need him.
Hours passed like this, each one blending into the next. The storm showed no signs of abating, its fury relentless. Griswa remained by the cave's entrance, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing dance of light and shadow outside. He listened to the rhythm of the storm, the pounding of rain against rock, the occasional crack of thunder, and the ceaseless howl of the wind.
Every so often, he would close his eyes and lean his head back against the cave wall, trying to rest but finding no comfort. The future seemed uncertain, and the weight of the responsibility for Malaes and Yesdar pressed down on him. They would need to regroup and find others who shared their cause. But for now, all he could do was wait out the storm.
Despite the storm's volume, a profound silence seemed to fill the cave. It was the silence of absence, the void left by those who were no longer there. Griswa felt it keenly, a palpable emptiness that nothing could fill. He sighed, a sound lost in the roar of the storm, and wrapped his arms around his knees, drawing them close to his chest.
Finally, the first faint hints of morning light began to pierce the storm clouds, The night had been long and filled with turmoil, but they had survived. He glanced back at Malaes and Yesdar, still unconscious but alive. That was something, at least. They would carry on, for themselves and for those they had lost.
With a weary sigh, Griswa leaned his head back against the cave wall one last time and closed his eyes, allowing himself a brief moment of rest. The storm outside continued, but inside the cave, there was a fragile peace. They had weathered the night, and with the coming day, they would find a way to move forward.
Inside the cave, the flickering shadows cast by sporadic lightning revealed the tension etched on Malaes's face. Though unconscious, her brow furrowed, and her expression twisted as if trapped in a nightmare. She was indeed reliving the horrors that had unfolded before she lost consciousness. Yet, Griswa remained unaware of her turmoil, his attention occupied by the storm outside and the immense responsibility weighing on his shoulders.
Suddenly, Malaes jolted awake, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She gasped for breath, her heart pounding as the remnants of her nightmare clung to her consciousness. Disoriented and groggy, she tried to piece together the fragmented memories. The last thing she recalled was the chaos of the battle, the shockwave, and then darkness. Now, she found herself in an unfamiliar cave, with a splitting headache and an overwhelming sense of dread.
"Malaes," Griswa called out softly, his voice filled with concern. But Malaes seemed not to hear him. She pushed herself to her feet, clutching her head with both hands as if trying to squeeze the pain away. Her movements were unsteady, and her vision blurred as she staggered towards the cave entrance, driven by a desperate need to understand what had happened.
The rain poured down in torrents as she stepped outside, each drop a cold, biting reminder of her confusion and fear. She barely registered Griswa's presence as she moved past him, her mind solely focused on the questions swirling within her. Why were they here? What had happened to the others?
In the dim light of the storm, Malaes spotted Silyahun, her dragon, lying motionless on the ground. At first, she felt a glimmer of relief at recognizing him, but that relief quickly turned to horror. Silyahun wasn't moving. He was sprawled out in the mud, rain washing over his lifeless body. Her mind, still foggy and disoriented, struggled to comprehend the sight before her.
"Silyahun?" she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. She stumbled towards him, her heart clenching as she drew closer. The reality of the situation began to sink in, her fear crystallizing into a cold, hard truth: Silyahun was dead.
"Malaes, maybe you should come back into the cave," Griswa's voice cut through the rain, but it barely registered in her mind. She turned slowly, her face contorted with grief and confusion, tears mingling with the rain on her cheeks. Her eyes met Griswa's, filled with a desperate plea for answers.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Why are we here? Where are the others?"
Griswa stood there, his heart breaking at the sight of her distress. He could see the pain in her eyes, the tears streaming down her face despite the rain that tried to conceal them. He clenched his fists tightly, struggling to find the right words, knowing that nothing he said could ease her suffering.
"I am sorry," he began, his voice heavy with regret. "I couldn't save them."
Malaes's expression crumbled at his words. She sank to her knees in the mud, her body shaking with sobs. The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, it was as if all the sound had been sucked out of the world, leaving only the raw, unbearable weight of her grief.
Griswa approached her slowly, his own heart aching with guilt and sorrow. He knelt beside her, reaching out but hesitating to touch her, unsure if his presence would bring any comfort. "Malaes, I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "It all happened so fast... I couldn't..."
Malaes was shattered from the inside, her hands shivering, and she looked up at the sky, crying with great screams, sobbing a lot, her eyes turning red, her cheeks flushed, and her nose a bright scarlet. The storm continued its relentless barrage, echoing the turmoil in her heart.
Griswa didn't know what to do next. He decided to let her grieve and give her the space she needed. As she mourned, screamed, and cried her tears out, her mind and eyes were in a storm more violent than the one outside. It was as if her soul was weathering its own tempest, a maelstrom of pain and loss that seemed unending.
Malaes's thoughts drifted back to a night not too long ago, a night when she had fought with Sivera. The memory played vividly in her mind, each word and gesture etched into her heart. They had been discussing an adventure she had taken with Yesdar and Griswa, and it had ended in a heated argument.
"But what if I lost you? What if you never returned from one of your dangerous heists?" Malaes had asked, her voice trembling with fear. "What if you go away before watching me grow up?"
Those words echoed in her mind, stabbing at her heart. She had been so afraid of losing him, and now her worst fear had come true. Sivera was gone, taken from her before she had the chance to truly make amends. She regretted fighting with him, regretted every harsh word she had spoken. If only she had apologized, if only she had told him how much she loved him.
Her cries grew louder, her screams reaching the heavens. She felt as though her heart was being torn apart, the pain too much to bear. She fell to her knees, clutching her chest as if trying to hold herself together.
Griswa stood nearby, feeling utterly helpless. He wanted to comfort her, to take away her pain, but he knew there was nothing he could do. All he could do was stand by and let her grieve, giving her the space she needed to process the loss.
Malaes's mind was a whirlwind of memories and emotions. She remembered the way Sivera had smiled at her, the sound of his laughter, the way he had always been there for her. She remembered the warmth of his embrace, the reassuring words he had spoken to her during difficult times. And now he was gone, and she would never see him again.
Her cries echoed through the chasm, a haunting sound that spoke of a pain too deep for words. Each sob was a witness to the love she had for her father, a love that was now scarred by the sorrow of his loss.
She wasn't just remembering her father, but everyone, no one was less than a family. She felt as though her heart was literally breaking with each beat hammering her heart from the inside to shatter out an opening, it was killing her.
Griswa didn't have any idea what to do next. He just thought to let her grieve, and let her have the space she needed, but she almost passed out, Griswa held her from the back, and brought her back into the cave. He let her rest, but he himself was restless by remembering his own losses from the world he came from, that was like relating to the losses both Malaes and Yesdar had gone through.
But he was stoic, always stoic. At most he would clench his fists tight, like he tried making all his pain flow into his hands and then release it like an invisible energy spreading in the air out of his hands.
He knew crying was just a natural physical reaction of the body, the mind needed to be as calm as the deep sea, which he always tried to master. He couldn't be always calm, but he was strong enough to let go of things, no matter how much it pained if he knew something wouldn't come back, once gone. He had never seen anyone else like him who was not lost to the emotions or the effect the world would have on one.
Doubt Clearing Information:
How is Griswa a Shonen material if he easily lets things go?
Stoicism and Practicality:
Griswa's ability to let go of things that are beyond his control, such as the death of a comrade, showcases his practicality and emotional resilience. This trait helps him remain level-headed in crises, much like Shonen heroes who need to keep their cool in critical moments. His stoicism doesn't mean he is devoid of emotions; rather, it means he channels his emotions in a way that allows him to continue moving forward. He feels regret and understands pain, which keeps him grounded and empathetic.
Determination and Perseverance:
Griswa shares the unyielding determination seen in iconic Shonen protagonists like Goku, Naruto, and Luffy. He never gives up on something he believes is possible. This relentless drive is a hallmark of Shonen characters who push through insurmountable odds. Just as Luffy would go to great lengths to rescue his friends, and Naruto would never give up on bringing Sasuke back, Griswa exhibits the same stubbornness and willpower when it comes to achieving his goals or protecting his friends, because he knows what is possible.
Calmness and Recklessness:
Griswa's calm demeanor in the face of loss or failure is akin to the deep-sea tranquility, which allows him to make rational decisions and stay focused on the bigger picture. This trait is essential for a leader who must remain composed under pressure. However, like many Shonen heroes, Griswa has a breaking point. When pushed to his limits, he can become reckless and unpredictable. This duality makes him a dynamic character, capable of immense control but also explosive action when the situation demands it. You'll know in the future, :)
Emotional Depth and Growth:
Shonen protagonists often undergo significant emotional growth throughout their journeys. Griswa's ability to feel deep regret and understanding of pain ensures that he remains a character with emotional depth. His stoicism is a coping mechanism that allows him to carry on, but his underlying emotions drive his actions and decisions. Over time, as he faces more challenges and losses, Griswa's experiences shape him, adding layers to his character. This growth is crucial in Shonen narratives, where the protagonist evolves in response to their adventures and hardships.
Heroic Resolve:
Despite his stoicism, Griswa's heroic resolve shines through when he faces seemingly impossible odds. His willingness to stand up and fight for what he believes in, to protect his friends and achieve his goals, aligns him with the quintessential Shonen hero archetype. His resolve is not just about physical battles but also about enduring emotional and mental struggles. This makes him relatable and inspiring, qualities that are central to Shonen protagonists. When he says he lacks a dream, that's not because he cannot have one, isn't it? :)