Lukas slowly raised his hand, his fingers touching the black carapace. Cold. Smooth. Durable. He began to stroke it gently, feeling its texture beneath his fingertips.
Tilbo remained completely still, only his deep breathing moving his body.
Then, she brought her head a little closer, as if she perfectly understood that something was wrong, that her partner was suffering. As if she could not solve his problems... but could, at the very least, remain by his side.
Lukas continued stroking his companion, feeling the warmth of her body through the carapace. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air of the room. Once more. Then again.
Little by little, his thoughts began to slow down, like a river finally finding its course. His worries faded, his anxiety lost its grip, and his frustration slowly dissipated.
All that remained was the silence of the room... Rourke’s steady breathing, his tiny body rising and falling... Astra’s occasional soft chirp, a gentle sound that broke the silence... the silvery glow of the moon streaming through the window, creating patterns across the floor... and Tilbo’s comforting weight resting on top of him. An anchor in the sea of his doubts.
Without realizing exactly when, his eyes closed. His breathing became steady. His muscles relaxed.
For the first time in several days... Lukas fell asleep without thinking about mana.
...
The next morning, when he opened his eyes, daylight already filled the entire room, sunlight pouring through the window in golden waves. He blinked a few times, disoriented. The sun was already high, far higher than when he normally woke up.
He slowly sat up in bed, his movements sluggish and sleepy. It felt strange. It had been a long time since he had woken up so late, since he had allowed his body to rest beyond its usual schedule.
He ran a hand through his white hair, still messy from sleep. He felt rested, more rested than he had in days. Physically, his body was relaxed, his muscles loose and ready. Mentally, he also felt somewhat lighter, as if the weight of his frustration had eased during the night.
He looked around the room. Astra was still perched atop the wardrobe, her golden eyes fixed on him. Prata remained near the window, her dark body perfectly still. Rourke stretched lazily inside his nest, his tiny paws extending in a movement that was almost human. Tilbo was still beside the bed, her head raised, her antennae moving slowly.
"Good morning..."
Astra answered with a soft chirp, a gentle sound of recognition. Rourke poked his nose out, his nostrils twitching. Tilbo slowly moved her antennae, sensing his presence. Even Prata subtly moved one of her front legs, a small gesture that Lukas had already learned to recognize as a greeting.
Lukas smiled, a genuine smile that brightened his face. He stood up, feeling his muscles respond with ease. He washed his face with cold water, feeling the refreshing shock against his skin. He tried to straighten his unruly hair, a futile effort that made him chuckle softly. Then he put on a set of simple clothes without any hurry.
At that moment, he had no desire to train. He did not want to run, did not want to swing his sword, did not want to feel mana. He simply wanted... to exist.
He calmly walked downstairs to the dining room, his steps slow and relaxed. Aurora was setting the table, her movements precise and efficient. Judite was finishing her meal, her plate almost empty. Clavor was nowhere to be seen, probably already out taking care of his own business.
"Good morning." Lukas’s voice was calm and peaceful.
Aurora smiled immediately, her eyes lighting up when she saw her son.
"Good morning. You slept in today."
"I did..." He sat down, feeling his body’s weight settle into the chair. He began eating slowly, without rushing, savoring every bite. The bread was still warm, fresh from the oven. The tea carried a pleasant aroma, with notes of herbs and honey.
Even so, Judite kept watching her brother carefully, her curious eyes studying his face. Then she tilted her head slightly, concern showing on her features.
"You look strange."
Lukas raised his eyes in surprise.
"I do?"
"You look tired." She pointed at his face with her fork.
He remained silent for a few seconds, processing his sister’s words. Then he simply gave a faint smile, one that did not quite reach his eyes.
"Maybe a little."
Aurora said nothing. She simply continued serving breakfast, her movements gentle and attentive. Her gaze, however, revealed that she had noticed far more than she let on, that she understood her son’s silent struggle.
When he finished eating, Lukas stood up. He went back upstairs to his room, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. He stopped in the middle of the room, his eyes sweeping across the familiar space.
He looked at his four companions, Tilbo, Prata, Astra, and Rourke. Each one unique, each one special, each one a part of his life.
Then he smiled, a smile carrying a decision.
"Let’s go." His voice was calm, yet firm.
"Today... I just want to take a walk."
Prata was the first to respond. Her legs moved as she climbed down the wall with eerie fluidity. She pushed the window open, the wood creaking softly, and disappeared among the branches, her dark form blending into the forest’s shadows.
Astra spread her wings, her white plumage gleaming beneath the sunlight, and gently landed on Lukas’s shoulder, her weight almost imperceptible.
Rourke climbed up his leg with quick movements, his tiny paws gripping the fabric of his pants until he settled inside the pocket of his tunic. His little nose poked out, his nostrils twitching.
Tilbo rose heavily, her enormous body moving with surprising grace.
The four of them left the mansion together, their footsteps echoing through the morning silence.
No sword. No training. No destination.
They slowly entered the forest, the leafy canopy closing above them like a green ceiling. The wind blew gently through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth, moss, and wildflowers. The songs of birds filled the air, a natural symphony that soothed the soul.
Lukas walked without any hurry. He was not trying to achieve anything, not pursuing any goal. He simply existed, present in the moment, aware of the world around him.
For the first time in many days... he was not trying to become stronger. He was not trying to reach any goal. He did not pressure himself, did not judge himself, and did not dwell on his frustration.
He simply walked.
He found a small rise covered with soft grass, a natural mound that seemed to be waiting for him. He sat down, feeling the texture of the grass beneath his hands. He leaned his back against an ancient tree, its rough bark pressing against his tunic.
Tilbo lay down beside him, her head resting on the grass.
Rourke began exploring the nearby leaves, his little nose investigating every corner.
Astra landed on a branch above his head, her golden eyes scanning the horizon.
Prata quietly spun a few strands between two bushes, her web slowly beginning to take shape.
Lukas partially closed his eyes, allowing the forest to embrace him.
The wind caressed his face, a gentle and constant touch. The leaves swayed slowly above him, creating a hypnotic pattern of light and shadow. The distant songs of birds blended with the soft sounds of the forest, a melody he never grew tired of hearing.
No pressure. No anxiety. No frustration.
Just him... and his companions.
For the first time in a very long time, Lukas simply rested.