As Stephen's mind was crushed under the weight of melancholic memories, he tried to recall his mother's loving smile. Her warm embrace and the first gift she gave him were sweet memories that filled the void in his heart. The joyful memories began to dispel the dark clouds in his mind, but the pain in his body felt like a sharp and persistent knife digging deep. With the intensity of the pain, his eyes grew heavy, and darkness slowly enveloped him. He began to free-fall from the dragon's back into the endless void.
Upon seeing Stephen's fall, Aina swiftly descended with powerful flaps of her wings. A golden orb of fairy dust materialized in her hand. She hurled this enchanted orb toward Stephen's falling path. As the orb touched the ground, green vines sprouted and rose, gently embracing Stephen. Aina gracefully landed among the vines and dispersed them with a touch.
With concern in her eyes, Aina gently touched his arm. Stephen's skin was burning. When she brought her fingers to his forehead, the heat was like a raging fire. A green orb enveloped in mysterious energy appeared in her hand. "Life," she whispered. As the green orb touched his skin, the intensity of the fire seemed to slightly diminish.
Agnes, running up with excitement and happiness, asked, "Aina, what have you done?" There was confusion on her face; her joy turned to concern when she noticed Stephen's unconscious state. Before Aina could answer her question, Agnes asked another one. "Is this the boy? Why is he unconscious? And we agreed not to interfere afterward. Why are you helping him?"
Aina took a deep breath and said, "Agnes, you're bombarding me with questions. I'll answer all of them, but first, we need to revive this boy." Her eyes were fixed on the unconscious Stephen. She was filled with the desire to help him as soon as possible.
Still trying to understand, Agnes asked again with a puzzled expression, "Why is this boy unconscious? And I thought we agreed not to interfere?"
Aina, focused on explaining, said, "He destroyed the dark magic inside the dragon. But he couldn't bear the pain and passed out."
"If someone without the ownership of the sword uses it, of course, this happens. Even him being able to hold the sword is a miracle."
With determination, Aina continued, "But I believe he is the rightful owner, Agnes. My gut feeling tells me so."
"The sword never harms its owner," Agnes noted, her eyes shining with contemplation.
"But he also helped us, Agnes. Why would a thief do that? Aren't thieves supposed to be bad?" Aina pleaded. Sensing her inner conflicts, Agnes gazed deeply into her eyes and solemnly explained, "I live in Flamea, you know."
"What does that have to do with our situation?"
"I hope you're aware of the tension between Rivelia and Flamea. I don't want to risk myself. If I help this boy and it's discovered, it could lead to serious consequences for both me and my country. Rivelia might even declare war on Flamea. And my country can't handle such a situation right now. Rivelia is much stronger than Flamea," Agnes explained with a worried look. The atmosphere around them felt heavy with the weight of her words.
"Alright, Agnes... Don't put yourself at risk then. I'll take care of it," Aina spoke with determination, yet concern was evident in her eyes.
Agnes must have sensed this because she asked, "But I don't want you to get into trouble. And what about our agreement?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't ignore my conscience," she said, her face displaying a mix of emotions.
"I think he's something else, but I won't interfere anymore. I know you're stubborn," Agnes said, her gaze drifting into the distance as if lost in the misty paths of the past. Aina tried to say something, but she couldn't. It was as if her lips were sealed. Realizing that staying any longer was pointless, Agnes flew off into the distance.
Aina scanned the area to find someone who could help, and her eyes landed on a ring lying on the ground. She could feel the magical aura emanating from it. She picked up the ring and approached Stephen. As she got closer, the sword vanished instantly and appeared on her finger as if teleported. The ring was now on her index finger. Suddenly, a light blue mist formed around her, enveloping her. When the mist cleared, she slowly opened her eyes and, with exhaustion evident in her body, she sat up. After assuming a sitting position, she met Aina's gaze, filled with curiosity, who was looking at him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"You were literally burning a moment ago."
"I wasn't just burning. It felt like a million needles were being stabbed into my body. But right now, I'm just tired," he replied with a fatigue-filled voice, reflecting the challenging experience he had just gone through.
Aina couldn't sense the magical energy she had felt from Stephen before. It was as if the magic energy had been drained. She thought it would be difficult to recover from this, but she decided to speak hopefully. "Your magic energy must be depleted. Maybe you'll feel better after resting a bit."
He responded with a tired expression, "Unfortunately, I don't have time to rest. I need to meet someone."
He slowly stood up. "Thank you for your help, Aina."
"I should be thanking you instead. You saved us from great danger."
"You're welcome. I couldn't stand by and watch so many people die. If I hadn't helped, it would have haunted me," he said, bidding farewell to Aina and about to continue on his way when a man stopped him; It was the same man who had asked Stephen if he was guilty.
"Don't be afraid. You have nothing to fear from me," he said, but his grin looked sinister and mysterious. It didn't inspire trust in Stephen.
"I hope you don't expect me to trust you just because you say so," Stephen said, looking at him suspiciously and examining him with scrutinizing eyes. At the same time, he slowly removed his ring from his finger. As he continued to observe the man, he prepared to use his sword with inner determination. He didn't trust the man one bit and believed he had malicious intentions.
The man said, "Then I must earn your trust," and snapped his fingers. He had made a fist with his left hand, and when he opened it, the ring was there in the palm of his hand. Stephen didn't believe this and checked his index finger in fear, but the ring was indeed not there.
"The Justice Sword only grants permission to touch it to those who are deemed worthy by its owner and decide to help its owner," he explained.
Stephen responded with skepticism, "Perhaps your intentions are different, and you have even managed to deceive the sword."
"No one has ever deceived the sword," he said firmly, adding, "If the sword wishes, it can even abandon its owner, and no power can oppose it."
"Let's say you're trustworthy. How did you obtain so much information about the sword? The sword is protected by Rivelia, and you're probably one of them. Maybe you're a famous sorcerer or magician in the palace."
"I'm impressed by your ability to theorize, kid, but I'm none of those. And now it's my turn to ask questions. Who are you meeting?" he asked, grinning. His eyes were scrutinizing Stephen, evaluating each reaction.
"This is none of your concern."
"Show respect to your elders, Stephen. The sword doesn't like disrespectful owners," the man's voice carried a threatening tone, each word sounding like a warning.
"I still can't trust you. So, it's perfectly normal for me not to disclose who I'm meeting, isn't it?"
"Then, how can I earn your trust?"
"By giving me the ring that is still in your palm."
"Fair enough," he said, handing over the ring. After Stephen put the ring back on his finger, he asked, "Why are you so curious about who I'm meeting?" His gaze played games on the man's face, trying to unravel the mystery between them.
"Perhaps you're meeting with the wrong person. I need to find that out." The man's eyes scrutinized Stephen as if trying to solve a puzzle, ready to uncover a secret.
"Do you even know what my meeting is about to determine if I'm meeting with the wrong person? And what will you gain from knowing?"
"You're asking too many questions, kid. Don't drag it out, just tell me who you're meeting."
"If you keep up with this mysterious attitude, I doubt you'll find out," he said, turning away. "I have to go," he said and started walking, but the man rushed to his side and stopped him.
"Albert Thomas. You're meeting with him, aren't you?"
Though surprised, he tried not to show it. Still not trusting him, he replied, "No." He opted for an emotionless expression to conceal his astonishment.
"But it's impossible for it to be someone else."
"May I ask why you're so sure?"
He fell silent, then said, "You're lying." The man's words were tense with suspicion and determination; he was determined to unravel the mystery between them. Stephen, struggling to hide his internal conflicts, tried to control his expression.
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
I bombarded him with questions, but he continued to withhold something from me stubbornly.
"When will your silly questions end?" His eyes sparkled with determination and mystery, like a safe guarding its secrets.
"When you leave me alone. I must go now. Don't even think about following me. Otherwise, you'll taste the blade," he said and walked away. The threat had worked. The man had indeed left him alone. Stephen, still grappling with his inner questions, watched the man's retreating figure. The atmosphere around him was filled with a mysterious silence, as if even the air could feel the tension between them.
⚔️⚔️⚔️
Even though he wished the sword would teleport him this time, it refused to do so. He had to walk again. He carefully scanned his surroundings with each step, which slowed down his progress. Finally, he managed to reach home, but he was late.
He gently knocked on the door and then waited. After about 10 minutes of waiting with no response, he noticed that the door was ajar. He entered the house casually, thinking, I would have preferred to wait for him here, but I might be misunderstood. During his time inside, he examined the details of the house. Just as he was about to leave, he saw a tall man standing in front of him. This had to be Albert Thomas. He resembled his mother's description completely. Slightly long brown hair, hazel eyes, cheekbones that were visible even when not smiling, and a nose that resembled a hazelnut. His mother had described him like that in her letter.
He was lost in thought. When he snapped out of his thoughts, he put on a smile and felt excited, but it didn't last long. He saw Albert forming a sphere in his hand and aiming it towards him. "And who are you?" Stephen barely had time to answer the question when he felt a sharp blow to his head. His head was throbbing, and his eyes were closing again. He fell to the ground hard.