As the children were leaving the examination grounds, a familiar voice echoed in the distance.
It was Father Malderius, approaching with a few of the orphanage guards.
His face was full of warmth and kindness, but something was hidden behind his eyes.
"Welcome back, my children! I hope the exam went well for you."
With a comforting smile, he added:
"I wish for great success to await you all. The results don't matter... what matters is that you gave it your all."
A brief silence followed. Then, Father let out a few short, deep coughs.
He slowly raised his hand and continued speaking.
But Arthur noticed something—
Dried blood stained his palm.
Arthur's gaze instinctively shot toward Father Malderius' eyes, but the old man smiled again and said:
"Tonight, a wonderful dinner awaits you all. Come, enjoy the food."
He gestured for the children to head toward the dining hall.
Even in his condition, he always tried to keep the children happy and at ease.
Arthur quietly entered his room. His body was exhausted, and his spirit deeply troubled.
The tests were over, but his mind was still full of unanswered questions.
He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes.
Despite all the pressure he'd endured that day, there was a heavy weight in his chest.
But something deep inside whispered that he had to keep going.
One thought after another came rushing in.
"Am I really meant for this life?
Is the power I've gained… truly enough?"
He turned his eyes toward the ceiling.
The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking dishes from the dining hall reached his ears.
The other children were enjoying dinner—
But Arthur was lost, drowning in his own thoughts.
And suddenly, the blue flame lit up again in his mind.
The same flame that had danced in his hands during the test—
The same power he never believed he could ever possess.
"This is me. I have to trust in something greater than what I think I am."
His eyes closed. Sleep was slowly approaching,
But Arthur's thoughts drifted deeper into the future than ever before.
He lay in bed, still and silent, but his mind refused to rest.
The image of Father Malderius' bloodstained hand, hidden away from the children's eyes, lingered like a heavy shadow.
"What was that on his hand? Why did he hide it from us?"
Arthur felt he couldn't wait any longer.
His body was weighed down by exhaustion, but a stronger resolve was forming in his heart.
He got out of bed and quietly made his way toward Father Malderius' room.
He reached the door and listened closely.
There was total silence—
Until suddenly, the harsh sound of violent coughing came from the other side.
The coughs were deep, persistent, almost painful to hear.
A strange fear stirred inside Arthur.
"Father?"
Arthur placed his hand on the door and slowly pushed it open.
Father Malderius was lying on the bed. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow and broken.
His head had fallen back, and his face was pale. In that moment, Arthur realized Father was slipping.
"Father?!" Arthur rushed toward him, reaching out with both hands.
The priest was still breathing, but it was weak—uneven and strained.
"Father! What's happening?" Arthur called out, but there was no answer.
Fear spread through his chest like a flame refusing to go out.
"No… Father can't be like this."
Arthur quickly turned and dashed toward the sisters' quarters.
A heavy dread settled deeper in his heart with every step.
"Sisters!"
He burst into the room. The sisters were sitting in dim candlelight, speaking quietly among themselves.
"Father's sick! We have to help him!"
Arthur's voice trembled with urgency.
The sisters' eyes instantly filled with worry and surprise.
One of them—Maria—stood up immediately and said,
"Come! We must hurry!"
Arthur nodded, his heart pounding.
"We need to get there faster."
They all left the room and hurried down the hallway toward Father Malderius' chamber.
In Arthur's mind, only one thought echoed:
"He can't be like this… What's happening to him?"
His hands were shaking as he moved beside the sisters.
His eyes were still full of questions, and his heartbeat was heavier than ever.
Maria, seeing the fear in his expression, gently approached him.
"Arthur… you know Father has been suffering from an illness, right?"
Arthur's voice shook.
"What? What illness?"
Maria paused, then spoke softly,
"It's called Blooddeath… it causes the mana inside the body to build up pressure against the internal organs.
Over time, that pressure damages the body. There's no cure. Even sacred magic can't help—if anything, it only accelerates the disease."
Arthur's eyes welled up with tears as he asked,
"There's no way to treat it? Nothing at all?"
Maria lowered her head, grief shining in her gaze.
"No, Arthur… he's had it for a long time, but in the past year, it's gotten worse."
A heavy weight settled in Arthur's chest.
He placed a trembling hand over his heart, eyes brimming with tears.
"Father…"
His voice cracked.
"The only one who ever truly cared for me… he's dying."
With a broken heart, Arthur rushed to Father Malderius' side.
The priest was still breathing—weakly, barely—but alive.
Arthur fell to his knees beside the bed and gently rested his head on his father's hand.
At that moment, Father Malderius slowly opened his eyes.
A faint smile formed on his pale lips as he looked at Arthur with endless warmth.
"Little Arthur… don't worry. Remember what I told you."
"Even if one day I'm no longer in this world… my spirit will always be with you."
Arthur couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
They streamed down his face without pause.
"Father… I don't want to live without you…"
Father Malderius gently placed his hand on Arthur's head, his voice barely a whisper.
"My child… you must always be strong. Remember, life goes on, and you must walk your path."
Arthur sat beside his bed, weeping endlessly.
For a moment, the cruel, painful world around him faded into a dark void.
He felt something within him shatter—but even in that breaking point, his father's soft smile gave him the strength to endure what lay ahead.
Then, Father Malderius' faint smile faded, and his eyes slowly closed.
The breath that had once been weak and shallow… stopped completely.
Arthur felt as though the ground beneath him ceased to exist.
His entire body grew heavy, as if the weight of a world had fallen on his shoulders.
"Father? Father!"
His voice was trembling and broken.
He held on to his father's hand—still warm—but no response came.
Time stretched into eternity.
As Arthur gazed at the stillness of his father's face, he felt his own heart freeze.
He had never, in his entire life, felt such a profound and devastating loneliness.
It was as if, in that moment, his father hadn't just left the world—
but had taken a part of Arthur's soul with him.
Arthur wept without pause, unable to hold back the flood of tears.
They spilled over, falling onto Father Malderius' hands, while the sound of his cries echoed through the dim, silent room.
The sisters of the church, who had rushed to the room moments before, stood in silence.
None of them could find words to ease his pain.
They knew the weight that had just been placed upon Arthur's shoulders—
and though they longed to ease it, there was nothing they could do to take that pain away.
Maria stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Arthur's shoulder.
But she said nothing.
No one did.
Only the sound of Arthur's grief filled the air.
He stayed beside the bed all night.
None of the sisters had the heart to ask him to leave.
Some stood quietly in the corners, watching over him with tearful eyes,
while others prayed silently with their hands clasped tight.
But Arthur noticed none of it.
His mind drifted again and again to his father's final words—
"My soul will always be with you."
The weight of those words… was unbearable.
"Father... I can't live without you..."
Arthur whispered again, but all he heard was his own broken voice.
He didn't sleep.
The night passed slowly, as he wandered endlessly through memories and pain.
The flickering light of the candles painted shadows across the walls, while outside, the cold wind howled beneath the dark sky.
As dawn was still far away, Arthur rose to his feet.
He walked quietly to the window, every step heavy with sorrow.
Outside, the world was silent—
the kind of silence that made everything inside hurt a little more.
"How am I supposed to live without him?"
The question spun in his mind like a storm.
Just then, a gentle sound of footsteps echoed through the room.
Sister Maria was approaching, slowly, carefully—
like someone who didn't want to disturb a soul on the edge of breaking.
At that moment, the soft sound of footsteps echoed from the corner of the room. Sister Maria quietly approached him.
"Arthur, you need to rest," Maria said, her voice gentle and compassionate.
Arthur closed his eyes briefly, then whispered,
"I can't... I have to stay here."
Maria stepped closer and took Arthur's hand in hers.
"Father always told you to be strong, even in the hardest times. Now, it's time to live by his words."
Arthur opened his eyes with difficulty and looked at Maria.
"Do you know what he told me? He said his soul would always be with me... Do you think that's really true?"
Maria gave him a tender smile.
"Father's soul will always be with you, Arthur. He believed in you."
Arthur silently reflected on her words, then slowly lowered his head.
Yes, life had to go on, even if it was filled with pain and sorrow.
Arthur knelt beside his father's lifeless bed, his gaze fixed on the hands that no longer held warmth. In the heart of the night, a heavy silence enveloped the room—louder than any scream. His tangled thoughts swirled through his mind like an endless tide.
He whispered to himself,
"My mother and father... why did they leave me alone?"
Tears streamed quietly and endlessly down his cheeks.
"When no one else was there... it was Father Maldrius. The only one who saw me when no one else wanted to. He believed in me, told me I mattered..."
Faded images of his childhood paraded before his eyes—nights filled with fear and tears, days when children mocked him, and the warm hands of Father, always ready to embrace him with a smile that brought peace.
"Father always said I had to be strong... that one day, I could rise beyond everything. But now... now he's gone too..."
Clenching his teeth against the knot in his throat, he wanted to scream, to blame the world—everyone—but he could only hold himself and tremble from within.
He closed his eyes. A vision of Father's gentle smile appeared in his mind—the same smile that always gave him hope.
"I promise... I'll be strong, even if you're no longer by my side... I just wish I could hear your voice one more time... just once more..."
Then, in the silence of the night, with red eyes and a broken heart, Arthur remained beside the bed. No one knew what storm raged inside him. But one thing was certain—Arthur would never be the same child again.
The morning dawned with a pale, cold light that bathed the chapel. The air of that day carried the scent of death—a heavy scent that pressed against every chest. The sisters, clad in black, faces wet with tears, carried Father Maldrius's body from the room with silent reverence. A white cloth covered him, but the trace of his peaceful smile lingered in many hearts.
The children had gathered in the courtyard. The soft sounds of sobbing blended with Sister Maria's whispered prayers and the slow tolling of the chapel bell.
Arthur stood by the grave. No tears. No words. Just an empty gaze, as if something deep inside him had been hollowed out. He didn't even blink. His lips were sealed, but his heart was screaming.
Beside him stood two other children. A little girl with short hair named Lily, to whom Father often read bedtime stories; and Marcus, a quiet boy Father had defended many times. Both clung to the cold earth, silently weeping.
As earth was poured onto the casket, Sister Maria said:
"Father Maldrius was a light in our darkness… and now, we must learn to keep that light alive within our hearts."
With each handful of dirt that fell upon the coffin, it felt as if a piece of the orphanage's sweet past was being buried with it. The children who once awoke to Father's warm voice now had to face the bitter silence of his absence.
And Arthur…
He stood there, unmoving, with a gaze that no longer belonged to a child.
In his heart, he swore an oath—though he didn't yet know to what.
He only knew that his path was just beginning… and there was no turning back.