My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 225: Candle Wax

He shifted Elias in his arms, rotating until the boy was fully in view. The movement jostled something in Elias’s ribs, but he didn’t fight it.

"This here’s your eldest brother," Gavric said, voice lifting like it carried something official. "Torren Kaelithar. Heir to House Kaelithar, keepers of the western terraces. When you’re older, Veyren, it’ll be your job to protect him. Ensure our name grows in excellence."

Torren didn’t blink.

The scowl deepened. His fists bunched at his sides.

"I don’t need my younger brother protecting me, Father."

He said it without flinching.

"I’ll be strong enough to defend our borders from monster spawns. And one day, I’ll drive out the blue-faces myself."

His voice cracked on the last word, but he held his ground. That spark in his eyes—whatever it was—didn’t waver. It wasn’t just pretend bravado. Not entirely.

Blue-faces?

The word snagged somewhere deep—not memory, but something close to it. A shard of the godless crucifix’s voice lingered. Alien conquerors. Outsiders that had taken root. The phrase carried more weight than Torren could possibly understand.

Elias tried to fix his eyes on the boy, but the world was too soft at the edges. Torren became a smear—green and brown and motion, framed against the warm haze of sunlit wood.

Gavric’s grip shifted. Not rough, just firmer.

"Don’t speak of them that way, Torren."

His voice cut with something sharper now. Not anger. Something more patient. More lived-in.

"Not even here. You never know what ears they’ve got. What abilities."

The words hung like a warning passed down from someone who’d seen too much. Elias couldn’t name it, but the pressure behind the sentence left no doubt. This wasn’t a game. Not even in private.

"I don’t fear them, Father."

Torren didn’t hesitate. His chin lifted. Jaw clenched.

"They’re just—"

"You’re a young puggle who doesn’t know the dangers."

Gavric didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

"Ever since they arrived, they’ve offered bread and coin to those who make their work easier. That’s no small thing. But it comes with a price."

He let out a breath through his nose. Not a sigh. More like the kind of exhale that came when words didn’t fix anything. Elias felt it push through his chest, a low rumble against ribs still too soft to brace. It reminded him, again, how small this body was. How far he was from doing anything on his own.

Torren shifted in the doorway.

His feet scraped softly on the floorboards. The stiffness in his posture loosened just enough to show he’d heard the warning.

"I suppose," he mumbled, then perked up. "I came to tell you Mother’s walking again. And Eldrian’s climbing everything. Knocked over the pot rack twice."

He grinned, almost proud.

"He’s fighting with Jitter, too. The feraline’s losing it."

Gavric groaned, half-laugh, half-grumble.

"Just make sure Jitter doesn’t scratch him up. That beast’s got a temper."

He shifted Elias again, one large arm curling protectively, the motion tilting the infant body just enough to make the bones feel weightless. Leather creaked. Elias’s limbs wobbled, head rolling into the crook of Gavric’s shoulder as pressure returned to his belly.

A beat passed.

Then—

"Oop," Gavric muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. "Looks like someone’s hungry."

Elias hadn’t realized what was happening until it was already too late. The ache started deep in his chest—tight and hollow—and then the warmth in his eyes became something else. It spilled over without warning, hot and sudden. Tears slid down his cheeks in messy, uncoordinated streaks. He tried to hold it in, tried to control the spasm working its way up his throat.

His chest lurched.

A sob cracked loose, sharp and involuntary.

Not now.

The thought echoed loud, but his body didn’t care. Muscles flexed on their own, lungs tightening again. His face scrunched without permission. It was like being trapped inside a machine running all the wrong commands—no override, no dignity, just noise and weakness and wet skin.

Gavric’s voice changed immediately.

Not pitying. Just quiet.

"Let’s get you to your mother."

His tone smoothed out, hands moving with a gentleness that didn’t match the size of them. Elias felt the shift in posture as Gavric turned, the warmth of the man’s body sheltering him from the cooler air beyond the door.

Then everything tilted.

The world narrowed to a tunnel.

Vision blurred, the lines of the room bleeding outward as exhaustion clamped down. Whatever willpower he’d had left unraveled. He stopped trying to hold it together. The warmth of the house slipped away.

Replaced by cold.

Not wind. Not ice.

Just weight.

It came like water—but heavier, deeper—pulling him down. Not wet. Not physical. Just a slow, sinking pressure that swallowed every edge of light.

Elias opened his eyes again.

Adult eyes. Grown body. No ceiling, no walls. Only black.

He was suspended in a pool of ink, no up, no down. Nothing moved but him. There was no surface to break, no bottom to land on. Just an infinite weightless pressure pressing in from every side.

Dot floated beside him, curled like a sleeping seed. Her ladybug wings were tucked in tight, her glow soft and uneven, barely pulsing beneath her shell.

Elias kicked once, legs moving through the thick space like swimming through syrup. It wasn’t water. But the motion still felt right.

He reached for her.

"Hey. You okay?"

His voice came out clean. No bubbles. No resistance. The black pool didn’t react—it was as breathable as air, as if this space had never followed the rules to begin with.

He tapped her forehead.

One gentle press, just enough to stir her.

Dot twitched, murmuring something too soft to catch. Then a yawn slipped from her, her light flaring and fading like a tired firefly.

"Huh? Kikaru...?"

Her voice wavered, groggy and cracked. Then it sharpened all at once.

"Wha—what’s going on? Elias?!"

She launched forward before he could answer, wings buzzing, body colliding with his neck in a clumsy, urgent hug. Her grip didn’t feel rehearsed. It felt raw. Tight.

Like she’d been waiting too long for something to hold onto.

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