Morning came with warmth
But not for everyone.
Elyom woke with a gasp.
His breath hitched, chest heaving, the thin blanket tangled around his legs.
Sweat clung to his skin, chilling him in the pre-dawn dark.
Around him, the dormitory remained still boys breathing softly in their sleep, undisturbed.
And yet Elyom felt utterly, achingly alone.
The dream still lingered.
The nightmare still lingered like a bad memory.
His mother's voice once soft, warm, and loving now twisted, cold, and sharp.
"Cursed child…"
The words echoed louder than the chapel bell.
He pressed a trembling hand to his chest, gripping the silver locket beneath his robes the last thing she ever gave him.
It had always brought him comfort.
But today… it felt heavier.
Colder.
As if the memory it held had started to doubt him too.
Or worse
As if he had started to doubt himself.
And in that moment, a terrible question took root
What if she truly believed it?
What if her love, like the warmth in this place, had only ever been sacrificed?
Given freely, yes but never meant to last?
What if he was the cause of her misery?
What if his hands were stained with the blood of her happiness.
The burden she chose to carry in silence… even as it broke her?
The sun had barely risen when everyone gathered to pray as everyday morning ritual.
But his prayers seems to be empty. His voice barely audible, lacking the commitment to his words coming out of his mouth.
Elyom knelt on the chapel's stone floor, scrubbing the east corridor.
His knees pressed into the cold.
His hands stung from the bitter water.
The bucket beside him clanged dully as he dipped the brush again and again scrubbing harder, faster.
Not to clean.
To forget.
To scrub away the image of her face not by pain, but by blame.
He tried to pray.
Pray again in isolation.
Tried to whisper the words she once taught him words that used to lift him like wings.
That used to bring him warmth, clarity to move forward.
But nothing came.
Only silence.
Not even a flicker of warmth.
His belief had begun to crack.
His heart was a maze of guilt and fading grace.
Maybe Father Vauren was right.
Maybe I am the seed of ruin.
Maybe I was never meant to carry the light. The light my mother carried.
He worked quietly.
As if in trance.
Obediently.
But his eyes were dim.
His head down.
His hands moved like they belonged to someone else.
And for once, the only sound louder than the silence was the storm inside him.
Forcing him to question his belief.
Later that afternoon, Elyom struggled to carry heavy buckets from the well, his arms sore and trembling.
A small voice called out.
"Why's your face all heavy?"
It was Kenny.
He stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes squinting like someone much older than he was.
Elyom blinked. "I'm fine."
Kenny frowned. "You're lying like grown-ups do, and you are very bad at it."
Elyom tried to smile.
He failed.
Kenny walked closer and sat beside him, feet dangling off the stone step.
"Did you had a nightmare. "
Elyom didn't respond.
"When I feel like that… when the bad dreams make everything quiet in my head," Kenny said, "I remember something my mom used to tell me."
Elyom turned to him. "What did she say?"
Kenny looked up at the gray sky.
"She said, 'Even the brightest light thinks it's fading when it passes through shadow.
But the light doesn't go away.
It just… learns to keep going no matter what. Because the light comes from within which cannot be overshadowed by anything."
There was a long pause.
Kenny glanced sideways, voice quieter now.
"You've got that kind of light, Elyom.
The kind that doesn't know how bright it is yet.
But some of us see it. I see it."
Elyom swallowed the knot in his throat.
"You don't have to believe in yourself today," Kenny added softly.
"I'll believe enough for both of us."
In that moment, Elyom didn't feel whole.
He didn't feel healed.
But he felt seen.
And somehow… that was enough to keep going.
Elyom pulled Kenny into a hug.
Kenny hugged him tighter.
"Thank you," Elyom whispered. "I needed that.
Your mother must've been a wonderful person."
Kenny nodded.
"She was.
And you're the big brother I always wanted. So you should feel honored."
" I'm very honored to be your brother kenny," Elyom said.
Kenny smiled, hopping to his feet.
"Come on. Let's get back to work."
"Right," Elyom said with a nod.
"Let's get it done."
That evening, after chores, Elyom sat at dinner among the other boys.
There were no grand conversations.
No laughter.
But some of the children spoke to him.
No more aloof silence.
A few even smiled at Kenny.
It was progress.
Small, but real.
Later, Elyom tucked Kenny into his cot.
The boy fell asleep almost instantly, worn from the long day.
Elyom, however, remained awake.
His body yearned for rest, but his mind wouldn't let him have it. Restless for the another nightmare waiting for him to break his will even more.
He stood by the window, staring out past the chapel wall, to the forest beyond.
The dark woods seemed to move with their own breath, their own pulse.
Remember the encounter he had the calling of woods. Almost giving in, to the voices of the woods.
What is that voice…?
Why did it call to me?
What lies beyond those trees?
Why it feelt so good to there?
He clutched the locket to his chest again.
It still felt cold.
But no longer hollow.
While clutching his locket elyom lay on his cot to sleep.
Hoping to sleep without any dreams for the night.
I'll hold on to my faith, he thought.
I'll hold on to her words not the nightmare's lies.
Not for myself. Not yet.
But for Kenny.
For her.
For the light.