AK : RISING MYTHIC

Soft rays of golden sunlight filtered through the tall arched windows of the Mythic Ward. The morning light spilled gently across the room, brushing over the edges of the white sheets that wrapped Arslan like a cocoon. Birds chirped faintly outside the stone walls, and the rhythmic tapping of guards' boots echoed distantly across the courtyard, signaling the start of a new day.

Inside, however, the air still carried the tension of the night before — though softer now, like the last tremble of a storm.

Arslan stirred slightly, head resting back on his pillow, his breathing no longer labored. His skin, now free from the dreadful black markings, looked pale but alive. Beside him, still seated on the edge of the bed, Nirela blinked slowly. Her eyes were red from the long night.

"Nirela," Arslan said softly, turning his head to look at her. His voice, though quiet, held a playful edge. "You should take some rest now. You spent the whole night awake…"

She smiled gently and shook her head, brushing back her slightly messy hair. "I can do anything for you."

Arslan chuckled, and the sound, although faint, seemed to warm the very walls around them.

Just then, the wooden doors of the ward creaked open.

The rest of the Mythics stepped in — one by one, quietly at first, but smiles stretched wide across every face.

Orien was the first to speak, striding in with his usual flair. "Hurry up and recover, Arslan," he grinned. "You still have to train me."

A burst of laughter followed. Even Arslan, lying weak in his bed, smiled broadly.

Tharion moved to the other side of the bed, his powerful frame still bearing the aura of that battle at the cave. He clasped Arslan's hand gently and said, "It's really good to see you awake, brother."

Arslan nodded, "I'm glad to see you all too."

They gathered around, their expressions a blend of happiness and deep relief. Each one knew how close they had come to losing him. For a moment, no one spoke — just the soft sound of the wind outside and the quiet breaths of warriors who had been through hell together.

Then Tharion's brow furrowed a little. "Arslan… what happened to you?"

Arslan's eyes flickered toward the ceiling for a moment, as if searching for the words. "I don't know anything about it," he replied quietly. "One moment, I was using my techniques… the next… it was like something crushed my heart from inside."

Seris leaned forward, arms crossed. "I think this all happened because you used too much stamina and pushed your powers past their limit."

Arslan shook his head gently. "No… there was still stamina left. I could feel it. But it wasn't my energy that failed…" His voice dropped slightly. "It was my heart. The pain was—too much."

Yuna stepped closer, worry etched across her soft features. "How about now? Your pain?"

"It's hurting still," Arslan admitted, a hand lightly pressing over his chest. "But now… it's lower. Manageable."

There was a pause. The light chatter turned into reflective silence again. Then Malrik spoke, glancing over at Nirela who still hadn't left her spot.

"Nirela," he said gently, "why don't you take some rest? We'll stay with Arslan."

Before she could respond, Arslan turned toward her again. "Please… go. Just a little rest. You were up all night."

Nirela opened her mouth to protest, but then Seris chimed in with a teasing grin. "Nirela, go take a nap. At day time, Arslan's in our responsibility. And at night… he's yours."

Laughter erupted in the room again. Even Arslan couldn't help but chuckle — which turned into a light cough.

"Alright, alright," he said, waving his hand weakly. "Enough. Give me some time. I want to rest now."

They all stepped back, a little more relaxed now that their leader was joking again. One by one, they placed hands on his shoulder or gently tapped his arm as they turned to leave.

"Get well soon, Arslan," said Orien.

"You better," added Yuna. "We're not letting you skip the next mission."

"I'm making tea when you're back up," said Seris with a wink.

As the last of them reached the door, Nirela lingered.

She leaned in close, her fingers brushing his arm.

"Anything you need," she whispered, "just ring the bell. I'll be here. I'll visit you every hour."

Arslan gave her a sleepy smile. "That sounds like a promise."

She smiled back, eyes bright. "It is."

Then she finally turned and walked out, the wooden door gently closing behind her — leaving the ward silent again.

And in that silence, Arslan closed his eyes… the faint echo of laughter still warming the room like a distant sun.

The ward was quiet now. The sound of distant footsteps had faded. Only the low hum of ambient crystal lamps buzzed faintly against the stone walls. A soft breeze crept through a slightly open window, making the curtains sway like silent ghosts.

Arslan lay still in his bed, eyes barely open, the weight of his body dragging against the softness of the mattress. His breath was slower now, yet the occasional wince of his brow hinted at lingering discomfort.

The silence was broken by a soft whisper.

"...Kar'Thæl," Arslan murmured, his voice dry and cracked.

From the shadows of the dim room, the familiar ember-glow shimmered.

Kar'Thæl's form, half-fused into the flickering shadows on the wall, leaned forward. His voice, cool and deep, answered like a low drum in the chest.

"Yes, Arslan."

Arslan's fingers twitched slightly against the sheet. He turned his head slowly, struggling against exhaustion.

"I… I want to tell you something." His words came out in short breaths, almost inaudible, like smoke fading in air.

Kar'Thæl stepped closer. His eyes pulsed with faint red energy, concerned yet composed.

"No... Not now," Kar'Thæl replied gently. "You need to rest. You've pushed your limits farther than ever before."

Arslan groaned softly. "I will rest... but this is important." His eyes locked onto Kar'Thæl's presence, filled with a strange clarity in contrast to his weakened body.

Kar'Thæl knelt by the bedside, his tone low but firm.

"I think... when you awaken after some sleep, we will talk. Now just sleep. Let your heart stabilize."

There was a pause. Arslan's chest rose and fell, slower than before, but still weighted. He closed his eyes halfway and then opened them again with effort.

"Then... before I sleep..." he whispered. "Just... focus inside me. Scan everything. Tell me if there's... anything strange."

Kar'Thæl stood quiet for a moment. The shadows around him seemed to still. He was watching Arslan not just with his eyes, but with something deeper—something tethered to Arslan's very existence.

He nodded once.

"I will." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But don't strain your thoughts. You're safe. Nothing will harm you here."

Arslan's breath slowed further. The faint sound of wind chimes from outside tingled through the window—soft, calming.

Kar'Thæl placed one clawed hand over Arslan's chest, right above his heart—not to harm, but to connect. His eyes shut, and the room dimmed slightly as if it held its breath.

The low resonance of demonic magic hummed beneath the surface. Kar'Thæl's senses scanned through the connection—the blood, the heart, the veins of shadow that linked them. His brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

A few seconds passed. Then a minute.

Finally, Kar'Thæl opened his eyes. The glow faded.

He removed his hand gently.

"There's... nothing strange." His tone was honest, yet faintly uncertain. "At least... not yet."

Arslan blinked slowly. A hint of unease clouded his pale expression, but he nodded anyway.

"Alright…" he breathed.

The firestone lamp flickered nearby. A faint crackling sound filled the air.

Kar'Thæl stepped back. His shadow melted once again into the far end of the wall.

Arslan closed his eyes fully now. His fingers loosened.

The tension in the room began to dissolve like mist at dawn.

Just before drifting into sleep, Arslan murmured softly, almost to himself.

"Not now… but when I wake... we talk."

From the shadows, Kar'Thæl's deep voice echoed gently,

"I'll be waiting."

Outside, the night wind picked up just slightly, rattling the ward's window shutters. The world beyond Mythic Base was far from calm—but in this small room, for now, there was only quiet breath and the steady glow of firelight.