Nujah opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a park. The grass was slightly damp. The air smelled clean, cool, and peaceful. But to him, that peace felt like a chain.
Because the chain was truly there.
Invisible — yet unmistakably present. A weight from his wrists to his shoulders. And on top of him... a cat, a dog, a tiny fox cub, and even a small dragon, gently breathing as it rested on his chest.
Some had curled up on top of him, others traced slow circles around his feet. As if they all whispered in unison, "It's not time to get up yet."
As Nujah squinted and fully opened his eyes, the first thing he saw — right in front of him, almost nose to nose — was Maria's face.
Her head was tilted downward. Her eyes smiled, her voice barely above a whisper:
> "Welcome back to us… little brother."
Time seemed to pause for a moment. Then she gently kissed his forehead and stroked his hair like a child's. Calmly, she stood up.
Nujah frowned, but turned his head aside to hide it. His tone was flat, but carried a subtle, soft reproach:
> "Disabling me with cute animals... creative move, Maria."
Maria chuckled quietly, but her voice carried exhaustion.
> "We've run out of other ways to deal with you."
"Mitra was about to cry when she saw you, so I sent her away. Eris was surprisingly effective at calming people, credit where it's due."
"Vercurius said: 'If you die, I'll personally come down there to kill you again.'"
"Everyone wanted to say something, but I just wanted silence."
"Because I wanted the first thing you heard to be our hearts — not our noise."
"Every time you come back, you're more broken."
"This time, I wanted to be the one who welcomes you first."
"And I wanted to be the first to promise you — we won't let go of you again."
Nujah replied with a weak smile,
> "If I get welcomed like this every time I fall… I suppose I can keep surviving."
Then, without warning, Maria grabbed a needle-like device and plunged it straight into Nujah's core.
Nujah screamed in pain.
Maria, visibly regretful, murmured, "I'm sorry. But if I hadn't done it quickly, it would've torn you open worse."
She stood and asked calmly, "How do you feel?"
Nujah, breathing heavily, answered, "Awful. Awful. But I can't see him—"
"Who?" Maria asked.
"Erymas. He's started playing with my mind again. Serekhka — the Darkness — it's reached even the mind again, in barely a week."
"I understand," Maria said softly. "You'll need to stay on the ground a little longer."
She suddenly shouted, "Mevrias!"
A young elf boy came running, serious and breathless. "What do you need, sister?"
"Bring me my bag. And find Tiri, Lurelin, and Nimari. Quickly."
As Mevrias dashed off, Maria sat down in the grass beside Nujah, laying his head gently in her lap.
She picked up a small wooden shard from the ground, sprinkled some stardust over it, and said,
> "If you want to get better, you have to do everything I say. No matter what. Understand, little brother?"
She placed the shard into his mouth just as Mevrias returned — bag in hand, and behind him, three glowing creatures: a green fox, a matching-colored bird, and a gentle deer.
"Tiri — the head," Maria said. "Lurelin and Nimari, by the sphere. Sit beside me."
Once everything was in place, she turned back to Nujah:
> "I'm sorry, brother. But your mind must be awakened."
Nujah closed his eyes. "Do it."
Maria opened the bag and took out a soft cat-shaped mask. Then, a blade made of pure light. Her hand glowed a golden yellow.
> "Close your eyes, little brother," she said. "I'm starting."
She slid the blade through his skull, reaching into the core of his mind, the sphere where his consciousness lived.
Nujah bit down hard on the wooden shard, clenching his fists, body tensed in silent agony.
Maria worked swiftly. She brought more tools — scissors of light, a fusing needle, a soul-thread — and began carefully binding the scattered light fragments of his broken mind. The dark shards she extracted slowly with the utmost precision, ensuring no damage.
She pulled the thread between her teeth and used her fingers to weave the fragments together.
At that moment, Tiri approached.
Maria slowly withdrew her hand from Nujah's soul. She gently clipped a feather from Tiri and crushed it in her palm, heating the dust with a flicker of flame before drawing it into the needle.
She spread the luminous mixture over the fractured parts of Nujah's soul. The green essence of Tiri soothed the wounds, filling the dark gaps with light. Slowly, the transformation began.
But the strain was too much. Nujah convulsed violently — his mind shutting down completely.
Maria laid his head gently on the grass and took two careful steps, peering deeper — this time, into the soul sphere itself.
Only darkness.
Lurelin stepped closer.
Maria, whispering an apology, reached inside herself and drew a sliver of her own soul — just enough not to leave lasting harm. She winced as she sliced her palm with her own blade, tears welling.
Mixing her pain with a drop of Nimari's essence, she turned it into shimmering frostflakes, each no bigger than a snowflake.
She released them into Nujah's soul.
They floated slowly, burning away the shadows, one by one — for forty long minutes — until the soul was clean, and the sphere of soul was revealed.
But it was still corrupted — a vile, dark liquid pulsing at its center.
Maria, exhausted and worried, knew she had to continue.
The animals stepped close, offering their energy. She slapped her own cheek lightly, forcing herself to focus.
Nimari sat down beside her, as if offering permission.
Maria clipped most of Nimari's feathers, arranging them in a circle. Then she called Mevrias.
"Help me. Gently. Lay her down flat."
Mevrias obeyed. Calm, serious.
Maria handed him her blade. "Just take a small piece. I trust you."
Mevrias nodded. "I won't disappoint you."
After ten long minutes of sweat and focus, he succeeded.
Maria gently took the fragment, combined it with a tuft from the fox, and heated the mixture into a glowing fluid.
She poured it slowly over the soul sphere.
The black rot began to dissolve.
Whatever corruption remained, she burned it out using the last of the deer's essence — until every speck, every trace of filth, even the ones trying to crawl out of Nujah's body, were gone.
The soul was clean.
Completely.
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