The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 44: Letter.

The knight remained still, its blade buried deep in the earth, head lowered in silence.

Azhriel stepped forward, eyes softening as he looked down at the figure that had guarded this place for whole sixteen years.

He raised a hand and gently patted the knight’s shoulder. The surface of the armor shimmered—its body flickering like a dying constellation, its presence unstable.

"Thanks, for protecting her grave," Azhriel said, voice low, reverent. "You did well. Now... rest, please."

There was no need for more. No flourish. No command.

The knight’s form pulsed once, as if hearing the permission it had waited an eternity for.

The stars within its body shimmered—and then began to scatter, drifting upward like glimmering ashes into the sky.

The knight bowed even deeper, his ethereal form bending low in a gesture of final loyalty.

Then, a voice—fragile, like it had crossed centuries to reach him—echoed from the fading remnants.

"This is left by my lady for you. I apologise... for not being able to protect her, my lord."

And with that, he was gone.

Like dust on the wind, the guardian faded. Its sword crumbled into motes of starlight. No sound, no cry. Just stillness.

And at last, peace.

Azhriel stood still, his gaze locked on the spot the knight once knelt.

His heart felt heavier.

He looked at his hand or at the box in his hand.

The white box in his hands pulsed faintly, golden engravings glowing softly as his mana flowed into it.

Click.

The lock opened with a gentle sound, but Azhriel didn’t look inside.

His steps were slow, steady—like he feared disturbing the silence. He moved closer to the grave and knelt down, folding his legs beneath him.

The grave was simple. Clean. A small white stone, untouched by time.

He stared at it.

At the name etched upon it.

His mother’s name.

His gaze dulled, distant. His breath quiet. He just sat there, as if the world beyond this moment had ceased to matter.

For who knew how long, he simply sat there, quiet, unmoving.

Then finally, he spoke.

"Hey, mom... look who’s here," he said with a broken chuckle. "Your foolish son."

His voice cracked faintly, barely holding itself together.

"Heh... it’s amazing, right? How I didn’t even know you were here all this time."

His eyes shimmered, catching the sunlight—but it wasn’t the light making them glisten.

"Do you know...?" he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I got my memories back. My soul too. All of it."

He looked at the grave again, eyes soft with something fragile.

"All the memories—yours, dad’s... even if it was just for two hours, I remember every little thing."

He let out a soft breath.

"Pretty cool, right? Your Azhriel remembered stuff from when he was just born."

His voice trembled—but it carried warmth. The kind you used when speaking to someone still there... not a name carved in stone.

The wind passed by, gentle and cool, brushing his cheek like a mother’s fingers once did.

Drop

And then—at last—the tear fell.

He didn’t want it to.

But it came anyway.

Drip Drop.

And with it, came more.

One after another, they dropped—raw and unrelenting. Regret, sorrow, longing—all bursting from the dam that had been kept sealed for years.

The earth beneath him drank the tears like it had waited, like even it understood, what he was going through.

Because that pain...

It wasn’t just grief.

It was the cry of a son who had finally found where his heart had been buried.

He cried until his eyes ran dry, until the grief settled like dust over old memories. His face was streaked with tear marks, red and silent.

Only after a long breath did he shift, his gaze falling to the sleek white box glowing faintly in his lap.

He opened it slowly, reverently. Inside it lay three items. Simple, yet weighted with meaning.

A letter—folded with care, sealed with a golden emblem he faintly remembered from childhood.

A ring-black as night, with azure hexagonic patterns flowing on its surface.

And a pair of black gloves—neatly folded, lined with dark silver and gold trim and design. They were light, and... enchanted; he could feel it.

He held them for a moment, just staring.

Then slowly, with the gentleness of someone unwrapping a memory, he set the box down beside the grave and picked up the letter.

The golden seal peeled away with a soft crackle, like old sunlight breaking through fog.

He unfolded it.

---

Hey there, sunshine.

If you’re reading this letter... then I guess you’ve turned sixteen. It also means that you’ve awakened—your memories, your power, all of it.

I wonder, how are you doing?.

We are really sorry, to leave you in this wretched world alone. Please forgive us.

Ah, there are so many things that I want to tell you like- don’t be like your mother in behaviour, or don’t forget to eat. But i don’t have much time so we will be leaving you some things that will help you, and remember this.

Be kind but not stupid.

Be cold but not heartless.

Be strong but not overconfident.

So, my dear Azhriel, don’t be harsh on yourself and please happy.

Also, your father had also left a letter for you. I think you already know where it is right?. So, go there when the time is right.

Father and Mother loves you the most.

So Goodbye, for...now, my child.

Azhriel’s hand trembled, the parchment fluttering in his grip like a dying breath caught in time. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

He didn’t blink. He couldn’t.

Each word carved into his heart, every sentence like a gentle hand reaching out from the past—so warm, so painfully kind. His breath shuddered as he clutched the letter closer, pressing it to his chest.

"...So stupid," he whispered, voice cracking. "Why’d you write this like we’ll talk again tomorrow..."

The breeze shifted, soft and warm, brushing past his face as if in answer.

Azhriel stared at the sky, where no stars shone, yet somehow the light still reached him.

"I won’t let you down,mom." he whispered. "I’ll live... I’ll try to be happy. Just watch me."

He gently folded the letter and placed it back into the box with a reverence usually reserved for sacred things. Then he looked at the ring and gloves.

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