Eidetic Memory.
Some call it a blessing.
For some, it's a curse.
Azriel's mind twisted as the images paraded through his thoughts—the last smiles of his parents. Their faces, forever engraved in his memory, appeared with cruel clarity. He could still hear their voices, still feel the warmth of their final words, a warmth that had been snuffed out in an instant. They had broken their promise.
But they had made a different promise—one that now, in the silence of his grief, Azriel realized would never come to pass. The promise of their return. The promise that they would be there to watch him grow, to share in his victories, to comfort him when he stumbled.
They were gone. And all that was left was the void they had left behind.
Their smiles, their laughter, their words—they had tried to reassure him. They had believed, perhaps, that there was still hope. But now, Azriel knew: there would be no more pinky promises, no more cheesecake after the battle, no more "rainchecks" for the life they had dreamed of together.
He would never break his promise to them. But they had broken theirs.
----
When Azriel opened his dreary eyes, he saw… darkness. An infinite expanse of nothingness stretching out, unbroken, as far as the eye could see. Was he floating? He couldn't tell. There was no ground beneath him, no sky above. No sense of up or down.
The vast emptiness swallowed him whole, as though he were adrift in the blackest of voids, a space untouched by light or sound. His chest rose and fell with the faintest breath, but the weight of it—of everything—seemed to dissipate in the endless chasm.
His mind felt detached, as if he had no body at all. His fingers didn't move, his limbs didn't stir. There was no connection to the world, no tether to the reality he once knew. And yet, somewhere deep inside, something lingered. A gnawing, aching emptiness.
"What... is this?"
The thought echoed in his mind, but there was no answer. The silence was oppressive, a deep, cold quiet that wrapped around him, suffocating any trace of comfort. He had no sense of time, no sense of direction. He simply was, alone in a place that felt like it had no beginning or end.
The last thing he remembered was the cocoon of shadows, the unbearable grief... and then, nothing. Had it all been a dream? Or was this some twisted reality he had woken into?
Nothing made sense. But in the quiet, there was a thought that clung to him: his parents.
The promise.
That single thought spiraled into him like a blade, sharp and jagged, cutting through the numbness. They had broken the promise. His parents had never made it back. They had promised him a future, but it was lost now, shattered along with everything else.
Azriel's fists clenched, but the sensation was strange. Like he didn't have hands, yet he could feel the desperate tension. The darkness around him began to pulse—pulsing with something that wasn't quite power... or maybe it was.
A voice echoed throughout the infinite space, so powerful and resonant that the very air around Azriel seemed to tremble. The darkness itself shifted, as if disturbed by the force of the words.
"My child, don't give up this quick. You still have something to do, don't you? …Or have you GIVEN UP ALREADY?" The voice boomed, sending a wave of agony through Azriel's skull, the sheer intensity causing his eardrums to rupture. He screamed, but no sound escaped his lips, the void swallowing his voice whole.
Then, just as suddenly, the voice softened, its tone gentle and almost... apologetic.
"Ah... I didn't mean to yell," the voice continued, now with an air of warmth, as though trying to soothe him. "I always tend to do that when my children hurt like this."
Azriel's breath came in shallow gasps, still disoriented, but something in the voice, something familiar, cut through the fog in his mind. Children. It wasn't talking to him like a stranger. It spoke as if it had always known him, as if it had been waiting for this very moment.
"I will give you something, something with which you can fulfill your parents' dreams," the voice said, its presence becoming overwhelming, engulfing him entirely. "Just never forget this."
Azriel's heart beat erratically, confusion mingling with a fragile sense of hope. What was it offering him? Was this a chance to make things right? Was this the answer he had been searching for?
The air around him thickened, and the shadows stretched forward like hands, pulling him deeper into the heart of this voice's embrace.
"You will never be alone, my child," the voice whispered, its tone now as soft as a mother's lullaby, but with a power that resonated deep within Azriel's very being.
As the words settled into his mind, something shifted inside him. He could feel it—an energy, an essence, a gift of some sort, beginning to take root. His parents' dreams, their love, their sacrifices, suddenly felt within his grasp.
Azriel closed his eyes, trying to steady himself amidst the storm of emotions, the voice's words echoing in his mind, a beacon in the overwhelming darkness.
"Never alone."
He repeated the words, grounding himself, letting them fill the void that threatened to swallow him whole.
-----
As Azriel opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on soft grass, the vibrant green stretching endlessly across the vast plains. The air was crisp, fresh, and filled with the scent of earth and new life. The horizon in front of him dipped gently, bathed in the soft glow of the sunrise, casting golden hues across the landscape. It was a tranquil, almost surreal scene, as if he had been transported to a world far removed from his pain.
But something—something—caught his attention from the corner of his vision.
Turning his head slowly, his gaze landed on the object, and his breath hitched.
It was an egg. Or at least, that's what it appeared to be. It wasn't like any egg he had seen before. It shimmered with an iridescent sheen, its surface shifting as though it held a thousand swirling galaxies within. The colors danced across the shell in an almost hypnotic pattern—deep blues, vibrant purples, and flashes of silvery white. It looked ancient, yet new, alive in a way that words couldn't capture.
The egg seemed to pulse with a faint glow, and Azriel could feel it, something stirring deep within him, as if the very essence of it was connected to his soul.
He sat up, instinctively drawn to it.
What was it? Where did it come from?
The grass beneath his hands felt real, solid. The sky above, though impossibly perfect, was not a dream. It felt… alive.
Azriel leaned forward, eyes locked on the egg, his heart racing with an unfamiliar sense of purpose. It was as though, for the first time since the loss of his parents, something was offering him a chance. A chance for what? To heal? To escape the torment plaguing him?
He reached out a trembling hand.
And as his fingers brushed the surface of the egg, a surge of energy coursed through him, a strange warmth and a powerful pull that seemed to beckon him toward it.
The egg cracked.
Slowly at first, a delicate web of cracks spidered across its surface, glowing brighter with each passing second. Azriel's eyes widened as he realized that something was stirring inside. The air around him seemed to hum with anticipation.
As the egg shattered completely, a soft, ethereal glow filled the air, cascading across the green plains. Azriel took a hesitant step forward, his breath caught in his throat. But as the light continued to pulse and ripple, something else emerged from the shell.
A small, white-furred fox.
Its fur was pure, almost glowing with a soft luminescence, and its eyes—its eyes—were mesmerizing. A kaleidoscope of swirling galaxies, swirling in hues of deep purple and violet, like the night sky captured in a single glance. Each blink seemed to reveal an entire universe, distant stars twinkling and fading within the infinite depths of those eyes.
The fox's delicate paws touched the grass softly, and without hesitation, it leapt from the remnants of the egg. It was so small—small enough to fit in the palm of Azriel's hand. Its body was compact, graceful, and impossibly light, like a spirit of the air, unburdened by the weight of the world.
Azriel blinked, frozen in place, watching as the fox landed lightly on the ground before him. It tilted its head up, meeting his gaze with a silent understanding, its cosmic eyes reflecting his every thought and emotion.
The connection was instant.
Azriel could feel the power within the fox, an ancient and untapped energy, like the essence of the universe itself had condensed into this tiny creature. But there was something more—something he couldn't quite name. The fox was alive with purpose, with an unwavering presence that seemed to resonate with him on a deep, primal level.
The fox took a small step forward, its white tail flicking behind it, a gleaming trail of stardust falling in its wake. It stopped just before Azriel, its gaze never leaving his. The air around them seemed to pulse with energy, as if the fox was waiting for something.
Azriel knelt down slowly, his trembling fingers reaching out, drawn to the fox. The moment his hand brushed its silky fur, the world seemed to shift again. His heart pounded louder, not from fear, but from something he couldn't explain. The fox's eyes blinked slowly, its gaze steady as if reassuring him—I am here.
The fox's presence was calming, yet powerful, a reminder that even in the most overwhelming darkness, there could be light. A guide, a companion, a new beginning.
The fox nudged his hand with its tiny, soft nose, as if offering Azriel a silent promise: You are not alone.
In that moment, Azriel's heart, once a vast empty void, felt something stir within it—a warmth, a connection. The pain, the grief, the rage—they hadn't disappeared. But now, with the little white fox at his side, perhaps he could find a way forward.
He had not been left in the darkness.
And as the fox looked up at him, eyes swirling with the very stars, Azriel knew his journey was far from over.
'Mama?'
The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it echoed deeply in Azriel's mind, like a distant memory trying to surface.
Azriel froze, his heart skipping a beat. His eyes widened as he looked down at the tiny white fox, its kaleidoscope eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something deeper, something knowing. Could the fox… could it have spoken? No, not in the way humans spoke, but through his mind?
The fox tilted its head slightly, its ears flicking, as if it had sensed Azriel's confusion. It took a hesitant step toward him, its paws light against the grass, before it nuzzled its small, velvety head against his hand.
Azriel blinked, unsure whether the question had been a trick of his mind, but then the voice came again, clearer this time, more insistent.
'Mama…?'
Azriel's breath caught in his throat. Mama? Why would it call him that? He wasn't...
Azriel's mind reeled with a hundred questions. Was it confused? Or was this fox somehow… sensing something deep within him, something Azriel had buried under layers of grief and uncertainty?
The fox's eyes never left his face, shimmering with that otherworldly light as though waiting for an answer. It wasn't just a pet. It wasn't just an animal. It knew something. And Azriel, though overwhelmed by the flood of emotions threatening to break free, felt a strange pull. The kind that felt like home.
The fox nudged him again, a soft sound escaping its throat—something between a purr and a hum. A warmth spread through Azriel, gentle and soothing, yet powerful. His chest tightened, as if the voice was familiar, as if it was reaching into the deepest part of him, one he hadn't dared to touch.
"Mama?" he whispered, barely able to form the word, his voice thick with emotions. The word felt strange, like it didn't belong, yet it settled in his heart as if it had been waiting there all along.
The fox's purple eyes shone with understanding, and its tail flicked once, a burst of stardust trailing behind it. Then, impossibly, the voice echoed once more, but this time, it wasn't a question—it was an affirmation.
'Maamaaa!'
The fox leapt into the air, its tiny paws kicking up the soft grass beneath it as its tail wagged wildly, like an excited whirlwind. It spun in circles, chasing its own tail with gleeful abandon, as if the very act of spinning brought it an endless amount of joy.
Azriel couldn't help but laugh softly, a quiet, almost foreign sound escaping his lips. The sound of genuine amusement, something he hadn't felt in so long. The little creature's antics, its innocence, the unrestrained happiness—it was contagious.
The fox twirled faster, tumbling in dizzying circles before stopping to give Azriel a bright, inquisitive look. It tilted its head to one side, the galaxy-like shimmer in its purple eyes sparking as if trying to understand.
Azriel shook his head, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The fox's exuberance was so pure, so carefree. In a strange way, it was like a balm to his fractured soul.
"Call me papa instead, I'm no mama," Azriel said, his voice soft yet warm, the words carrying a hint of amusement.
The fox paused for a moment, its head tilting in that familiar, curious way. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, it bounded over to him and nuzzled its small head into his hand, the warmth of its fur sending a shiver of comfort up his arm.
'Papa?' The word echoed in his mind, gentle but insistent.
Azriel blinked, stunned for a moment. There it was again, that inexplicable connection, that strange bond. But as the fox's tail wagged with even more enthusiasm, Azriel felt his heart soften.
"Alright, papa it is," Azriel chuckled again, the weight of his grief lightening for just a moment.
The little fox seemed to puff up with pride at the new title, its body vibrating with happiness, its tail flicking excitedly like a small comet. It was a tiny, innocent thing—so much smaller than any of the creatures Azriel had known—but in that moment, it filled the space around him with an overwhelming sense of warmth.
Despite the darkness and chaos he had left behind, despite the storm still raging inside him, Azriel couldn't deny the small flicker of hope that rose in his chest. This little creature, this tiny, starlit fox—it had called him something. Papa.
And for the first time in a long while, Azriel wondered if, maybe, just maybe, there was something in him worth protecting after all.
-----
"Guess you need a name, huh?" Azriel murmured, his gaze softening as he looked down at the little fox. Its large, kaleidoscopic purple eyes stared up at him, head tilting to one side in a perfect, puzzled gesture.
Name? The thought seemed to linger in the air between them, as if the fox was trying to grasp the meaning of the word. It wasn't just curious about the sound—it was trying to understand the significance behind it.
Azriel chuckled, a small, amused sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his messy hair. The fox's innocent expression, its uncertainty, reminded him of a time when he was the one asking questions, full of wonder, before the world had broken him. Before the loss, the chaos, and the grief that had consumed him.
"Well," he began, eyes softening, "You're not like anything I've ever seen before... Maybe something unique would fit." He paused, thinking for a moment, watching the little fox's movements. The way its body swirled through the air with energy, the way its eyes held entire galaxies within them, and the way it had so easily reached into his heart.
"You've got stars in your eyes, little pup. How about… Nova? Like a supernova—bright, powerful, and full of light."
The fox gave a small, inquisitive yap, as though testing the sound of the name on its tongue. Nova—it was simple, yet it felt right. The name seemed to fit the tiny creature, the way it radiated energy and wonder, like a living star.
Azriel leaned down, his voice soft and reassuring. "Nova it is, then."
The fox let out a small yip of approval, its tail wagging faster, and then it bounded up to Azriel, nuzzling into his hand affectionately, as if accepting the name as its own.
For the first time in a long time, Azriel felt a sense of peace, however fleeting. In this strange, endless world, with the little fox at his side, perhaps he could begin to rebuild something—something worth fighting for.
"Alright, Nova," Azriel said, a small, genuine smile curving his lips. "Let's see where this goes."
-----
??? POV
Back in the abyss-like realm, the entity that had spoken to Azriel watched in silence, its presence vast and unknowable, stretching through the infinite darkness. There was no form, no shape to the being—just a ripple, a pulse, an eternal consciousness that could observe all things.
The entity's attention was fixed solely on Azriel and the fox, Nova, as they shared that fleeting moment of peace in the green, sunlit field. Its form, though impossible to define, seemed to vibrate with a warmth, a tenderness, as if a deep, ancient love swirled through its essence.
"My child, please… live in happiness."
The voice was barely a whisper, a breath on the wind, yet it carried the weight of millennia. The entity's wish for Azriel was more than just a fleeting hope—it was a decree, a plea, woven into the very fabric of the realm itself. It was something Azriel couldn't yet comprehend, but the entity would wait, as it had for so long.
It watched the boy, the one who had suffered so much, as he took his first fragile steps toward healing, toward finding a new bond that could tether him to the world—something pure, something untainted by the darkness he had been forced to consume. The fox, Nova, represented a chance for Azriel to live again, to rebuild, to rise from the ashes of what was lost.
The entity's smile lingered, though it was a smile of sorrow, a smile of hope. A smile that understood the weight of the journey ahead. It knew Azriel's pain, his scars, his deepest wounds. But it also knew that the boy was not alone, not now.
In the silent, endless expanse of the abyss, the entity's presence shifted, the echoes of its being fading into the void.
"You are not forgotten. You will never be alone."
The words resonated into the void like a soft, comforting echo—a promise that Azriel would one day understand.
And with that, the entity watched quietly, knowing that the boy's story had only just begun.