Fheniz had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, yet there were no signs of Griswa and Master Ehayor near the planet of Ehayor. The cosmos remained silent and indifferent, a vast expanse that seemed to swallow all hope.
The golden light left by Master Ehayor floated in the void, a tiny beacon amidst the darkness, waiting for Griswa to follow it home.
Griswa, though wracked with guilt over Master Ehayor's death, knew he had no other choice. He clenched his fists tight, summoning every ounce of strength and resolve within him. The command left his lips with a determination that echoed through the empty reaches of space. The golden light began to move, a trail of hope leading him back. Griswa followed, his heart heavy with grief and frustration.
How could I have been so foolish? he thought, his mind a storm of self-recrimination. He flew at the speed of light, pushing his powers to no limits, yet his berserk subconscious did not emerge. So all this time, I was holding myself back for no reason?! My power control was bad like always, and now it doesn't matter it was bad?!
Every second of his journey was a battle against his inner turmoil. The expanse of the cosmos stretched endlessly before him, each passing moment a reminder of his mistakes and the weight of his responsibilities. His frustration grew with every hour, every minute, every heartbeat. The guilt gnawed at him, a relentless beast that refused to be silenced.
Back on Ehayor, Fheniz was a picture of restless anxiety. He paced back and forth, like a pendulum caught in a perpetual swing. The hall of the Gate of Ehayor echoed with his footsteps, each step an echoing desire for them to come back as his worry deepened. Days passed, blurring into one another as he maintained his vigil.
He frequently checked on Yesdar and Malaes, their unconscious forms lying in the small ward. His worry for them was a constant undercurrent to his anxiety about Griswa and Master Ehayor. The tension was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on him, making every breath feel like a struggle.
The routine became his lifeline: checking on Yesdar and Malaes, treating them, waiting for any sign of improvement. He ate sparingly, just enough to keep his body functioning, but the food from the plants in the sands tasted like ash in his mouth. Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford; his mind refused to rest, plagued by endless what-ifs, but he refused the possibilities of them happening.
His eyes grew dark circles, a stark contrast to the ever-bright sky of Ehayor. His body began to smell, the stench of sweat and worry clinging to him like a second skin. Blood pressure spiked, daily headaches throbbed like a relentless drumbeat. Ophoen solution became his crutch, a temporary relief from the physical manifestations of his stress.
Weeks turned into a month and a half, the never-ending day of Ehayor stretching on without respite. Fheniz's restlessness was a tangible thing, a presence that haunted the hall. He considered going out to search for them, but the vastness of the cosmos made it an impossible task. He was tethered to hope, a fragile thread that kept him from spiraling into despair.
Then, one fateful day, a small miracle happened. Fheniz sensed a shift in the air, a subtle change that brought a sliver of hope. Yesdar stirred, his eyelids fluttering before he slowly regained consciousness. Fheniz rushed to his side, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anxiety.
"Yesdar, can you hear me?" Fheniz's voice was hoarse from disuse, but it carried a note of desperate hope.
"Yes, I can," Yesdar replied weakly, his eyes struggling to focus. "What happened? Where are we?"
"You're safe," Fheniz said, a smile breaking through the worry on his face. He fetched a cup of water, helping Yesdar drink. "You passed out after the battle. We're back in the hall of Gate of Ehayor, this is a small ward for people, both who live in Ehayor and also the ones who come from other worlds, just in case injured."
"What about Griswa?" Yesdar asked, his voice gaining strength.
Fheniz's smile faltered. "Griswa went berserk, and Master Ehayor… he went to confront him. I haven't seen them yet, I don't know what happened after I passed out. I've been waiting, hoping they'd return."
As Yesdar regained some of his strength, Fheniz's relief was palpable. He hurried to Malaes, who was also beginning to wake. He repeated the same process, helping her drink water and giving her something to eat. The sight of his friends conscious and somewhat coherent lifted half of the burden from his shoulders.
"Fheniz, what happened?" Malaes asked, her voice laced with concern. "Where's Griswa? Where's Master Ehayor?"
Fheniz took a deep breath, preparing to explain the situation. "After you passed out, Griswa's energy overwhelmed us. Master Ehayor went to stop him, but I haven't seen either of them. I've been waiting, hoping for any sign of them."
The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sank in. Yesdar and Malaes exchanged worried glances, their minds processing the implications. The unknown weighed heavily on them, but for now, they were together and safe.
The days continued to pass, each one filled with a mixture of hope and dread. Fheniz's routine remained unchanged, but now he had Yesdar and Malaes to share the burden. Their presence was a comfort, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his vigil.
Griswa's journey through the cosmos was a solitary battle against his own mind. The light led him ever onward, a silent guide through the darkness. His frustration boiled over at times, his thoughts a chaotic storm of guilt and anger. He had pushed himself to the brink, flying at the speed of light, yet his berserk subconscious remained dormant. The realization of his past folly only added fuel to the fire of his rage.
I was afraid of my own power, he thought bitterly, and that was just a misconception? A bloody misconception?! WHY?! IN THE END ALL OF THIS WAS FOR NOTHING?! MY TRAINING TO CONTROL MY POWER FOR YEARS WAS NOTHING?!!! IN THE END... I STILL KILLED MASTER EHAYOR??!!!!
The journey felt interminable, each moment was a struggle against the weight of his emotions. But he pressed on, driven by a need to make things right, but didn't know how. The light ahead was his beacon, a promise of home and a chance at redemption. But would he be forgiven? What was the possibility? Would he be trusted ever again?
Around two months and thirty days had passed according to the time on the planet of Aeartha. Fheniz, utilizing his advanced knowledge in math and physics, calculated the passage of time with precision. The days felt longer, each second a weight upon his soul. And yet, despite the passage of what seemed an eternity, Griswa had not returned. The endless wait gnawed at his spirit, his mind constantly plagued with questions and fears.
But on this fateful day, something shifted in the ether. Fheniz sensed a familiar energy approaching. His heart skipped a beat, relief washing over his weary mind. He didn't inform Malaes or Yesdar immediately, not wanting to raise false hopes until he could confirm Griswa's return himself. He stepped out of the hall, his eyes scanning the horizon with desperate anticipation.
And there he was. Griswa, descending from the sky, surrounded by a purplish energy that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. Fheniz's heart soared with happiness, but a sudden realization tempered his joy. He couldn't detect Master Ehayor's energy. What he did sense was faint, incomplete, like a distant echo of the powerful presence that had once been. His joy was overshadowed by a deepening concern. Where was Master Ehayor? What had happened?
Griswa landed with a heavy thud, far away in the sands, causing an eruption that sent a sandstorm swirling around him. Fheniz didn't hesitate. "Griswa!" he shouted, his voice carrying both relief and urgency. He flew towards the sandstorm, his body cutting through the swirling particles with determined speed.
As he entered the sandstorm, he could see Griswa emerging from the sands, his fists tightly clenched, his right hand glowing with a golden light. Fheniz's heart pounded in his chest. The golden light felt eerily familiar. He emerged from the sand clouds, closing the distance between them.
"Griswa!" he called again as they stood face to face. Griswa's head was bowed, his eyes refusing to meet Fheniz's. The background was a swirling mass of dark sand clouds, adding to the dramatic tension of the moment.
Fheniz sighed, a mixture of relief and worry evident in his voice. "You're such a person who is both to be worried about and yet not to be worried about," he said, his words carrying the weight of his emotions.
Griswa remained silent, his fists still clenched. Fheniz continued, his voice a rapid stream of questions, each one laced with the desperation of a man who had waited too long for answers. "I sense you are at your normal level. How are you now, Griswa? What's that in your hand? The light that's glowing, it feels like the energy of Master Ehayor. Where is he? Where were you? What happened? Did he go somewhere else for some other business? Of course, that's what he does—goes somewhere without informing, comes back without informing. But did he tell you something? Where did he go after he dropped you back on Ehayor?"
Fheniz's words tumbled out in a torrent, his pace faster than usual, his desperation evident. He needed answers, and he needed them now. The wait had been unbearable, and the uncertainty had taken its toll.
"Griswa?" he prompted again, his voice softening. "Oh! I am sorry. I think you had been on a very long journey or something as you returned so late. You should first rest. Yesdar and Malaes are waiting too. We'll all talk together after you have freshened up yourself."
Despite his outward concern for Griswa's well-being, Fheniz's inner turmoil was far from settled. He was still desperate for answers, the need to know gnawing at him with an intensity that was hard to bear.
Griswa finally looked up, his eyes meeting Fheniz's. The pain and guilt in his gaze were unmistakable. "Fheniz," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm so sorry."
Fheniz felt a pang of fear. "What happened... Griswa?
Griswa took a deep breath, the golden light in his hand flickering slightly. "Master Ehayor... he didn't want to return..."
"What?... Yeah that's alright, he went somewhere else on some other business, just like I thought..."
"No!"
Griswa's eyes were filled with sorrow. "When I went berserk, my subconscious had emerged, my energy was out of control. Master Ehayor used his own life force to battle me alone, in hope that I'd calm myself down... and I did, by whatever means. But that battle caused a lot of damage to the cosmic bodies and forces including his own self. He wanted to stabilize the cosmos, to give back the energy he took from the stars. And as he used his life force, he neared his death. He thought it was better to die. Because now that he had done his job protecting me all these years, he was relieved that I had found my own way of controlling my berserk self. He wanted peace now, he took a last promise from me before dying, to meet Hezick once again in his place for him."
"This light," he continued, raising his glowing hand, "is a fragment of his essence. It's all that's left of him and even this light is fading. It guided me back to the planet of Ehayor. But even this is saying that it has done it's job, it's time for it to go too."
Griswa unclenched his fist, the last fragments, the last sparks of the golden light slowly filled the air. Each particle seemed to hang in suspended animation, shimmering with an ethereal beauty as it spread and began to fade, invisibly reaching out to the ends of infinity. Fheniz watched the light reflect off the tear-streaked path on his cheeks, the glow enhancing the sorrow etched deeply in his wet eyes. This was not just light dissipating into the cosmos; it was his master, his mentor, his parent, his companion, his friend, his beacon of hope, slipping away forever. The reality that he couldn't even bid a proper goodbye to Master Ehayor struck him with a profound sense of loss and helplessness.
Fheniz's thoughts spiraled. How could this have happened? How could Griswa's berserk state, something he knew was dangerous, have been so-so lethal enough to kill a well-trained and experienced Ehayor God? Or was it just Fheniz's misconception? Even though Skaars were inherently more powerful than the Ehayors, Griswa was still just a child in the grand cosmic scheme. For Griswa to reach Master Ehayor's level of mastery would take hundreds of thousands of years, if not millions. The enormity of this realization frightened Fheniz, deepening the pit of sorrow within him.
Griswa's voice broke the silence, his tone heavy with remorse and fatigue. "I am sorry... I wanted him to return, but he didn't wish to anymore. He was too weak to even warp us back at the time. He knew he wouldn't live until we reached back to Ehayor. Maybe he knew something better than us. That's why he gave himself to the energies of the cosmos."
Fheniz stood there, drowning in a sea of dangerous thoughts and sorrow. His headache, a persistent companion during these troubling times, began to throb with renewed intensity. The tension he had been carrying for days on end now felt unbearable, as if a mountain had settled on his shoulders. The shock of Griswa's return was now overshadowed by the dread and confusion of the truth he brought with him. Master Ehayor was gone. Forever.
The confusion and stress overwhelmed Fheniz. He felt his mind slipping, the weight of his master's death and the fear of Griswa's uncontrolled power pressing down on him like a vise. He turned abruptly and started running back towards the hall of the Gate of Ehayor. He needed Ophoen. It was the only thing that could offer him a semblance of relief. His daily reliance on it had grown into an addiction, a crutch he couldn't discard, especially now.
"Fheniz?! Where are you going?!" Griswa shouted after him, but Fheniz didn't hear. Or rather, he couldn't listen. His mind was fixated on a singular goal: reaching the Ophoen. He ran like a mad dog, his steps erratic and desperate, driven by a frantic urgency that bordered on insanity. This was not something to laugh on. To another, it would seem as though he had lost all sense of direction, running aimlessly. But Fheniz had a destination in mind. The need for relief, the need to numb the pain, was all-consuming.
Inside the hall, Malaes and Yesdar were startled by Fheniz's abrupt entrance. He burst through the door, his appearance disheveled and his eyes wild with desperation. He didn't spare them a glance, his focus solely on finding some Ophoen. Malaes stood up, concern etched on her face. "Fheniz! What is happening?"
"I guess Griswa and Master Ehayor have returned, so he wants to give them this Ophoen thing, because they too must be tired, he is just too happy to see them again and is restless to give them the Ophoen thing, right Fheniz?" said Yesdar, but Fheniz didn't reply and that puzzled both Yesdar and Malaes.
He darted to the nearest cupboard, yanking the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall. The contents inside—a mishmash of supplies and tools—clattered and spilled onto the floor. His hands, trembling with urgency, rifled through the mess, tossing items aside carelessly. Pots clanged, papers fluttered, and small vials rolled away, but none held the sweet solace he sought.
His frustration mounted with each second, beads of sweat forming on his brow and trickling down his temples. The room felt stifling, the air thick with his rising panic. He moved to the next cupboard, repeating his frantic search. The hinges creaked in protest as he swung the doors wide, but he paid no heed. His mind was a whirlwind, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic rush.
"Where is it? Where is it?" he muttered under his breath, his voice edged with hysteria. His eyes darted around the room, wild and unfocused. Every shadow seemed to mock his desperation, every empty shelf a cruel reminder of his growing addiction.
He knocked over a stack of books, sending them tumbling to the ground in a flurry of dust and paper. His hands shook more violently now, his fingers clumsy and uncooperative. He kicked at the debris in frustration, the dull thud echoing in the empty hall. His vision blurred with tears of desperation and anger.
"Come on, come on!" he growled, his voice rising to a fevered pitch. He could feel the familiar ache in his body, the creeping edge of withdrawal threatening to overtake him. He couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but the need for relief, the need to numb the unbearable pain and confusion that threatened to consume him.
"Fheniz calm down, you have already used all of the Ophoen solution we had, because you were worrying just too much, I know you are overwhelmed with their return and your wait was worth it, but you'll have to make some solution again to give it to them, oh and by the way where are they? What's their shape? They alright right?" Malaes asked, but Fheniz was too busy to listen, continuing his desperate search.
"Don't know what's wrong with him." Yesdar said to Malaes. He continued, "He is too happy. Anyways they'd be coming here right now, I'll go check out and help them walk, I guess they are too tired and can't walk fast." Yesdar started walking towards the door, but before he could reach, the door started opening on it's own.
"Oh! There they are." Yesdar said in relief, thinking it was Griswa and Master Ehayor who came back there on their own without needing his help. But... it was not Griswa or Master Ehayor.
Yesdar and Malaes screamed in sync, their eyes and tongues popping out comically as they saw what floated before them as the door opened, slowly and dramatically.
"ORNGEA?????!!!!!!!"