The Elestar: Zero

Aurora emerged from her son's room after checking on him and draped herself across the doorframe.

"I cooked for my son... I forgot to ask if he'd like to eat," she muttered, putting her hand to her forehead and exhaling.

Even though she remained calm in the presence of her son, inside, it was a far different story—concern still ate away at her heart.

"Oh, I have to get myself together. Panicking won't do anyone any good," Aurora muttered to herself as calmly as possible, walking back to her room.

But sleep would not come.

What mother could sleep when her child suffered?

She twisted and turned on her mattress, unable to close her eyes when a jarring idea came out of nowhere:

[I forgot to tell Attu not to go out tonight. Hans had specifically cautioned against leaving the house after nightfall. It is night…He probably hasn't come out, but I better make sure.]

Aurora pushed herself up, tiptoed over to Attu's door, opened it slowly so as not to stir him.

She looked into the room—and stood still.

He wasn't there.

She lunged inside in a panic, scanning every inch of the apartment.

"He's not here. It's the middle of the night. Where could he have gone?" she whispered as she checked the whole house by now.

"I have to find him, fast!" she cried, springing to the middle of the house.

She rested her face in her hands, then pressed her index fingers close to her ears.

"Ability: The Thousand Voiced Stillest."

Her rare esper ability activated, a gift so rare it was nearly absent in psychics.

Aurora's hearing, which had been amplified, became strong enough to divorce itself from her physical body, reaching out like a ghost across the ground.

She could navigate the world through sound, transforming vibrations into a clear picture in her mind.

Aurora was one of the handful of espers in the world.

Clapping the raw current of her energy into her senses, she looked through her entire house—nope, no sign of Attu.

[He's not here. That means he would have had to go outside."

Steady, her head slipped through the walls to the world beyond the house.

She stepped outside.

The power formed a soundscape in her mind, in precise dimensions—like a ghost navigating the world through echoes.

That was how she found him.

Her power still in effect, Aurora got to her son, put her arms around him, and gazed in his face.

Attu was trembling. His eyes were glazed and filled with terror, directed toward the village.

Aurora turned to where he was looking and saw it.

A demon.

Slaughtering villagers.

Its hounds tearing through corpses.

Terror gripped her. But there would be no time to freeze.

She grabbed Attu's hand.

"Attu, run!" she screamed, pulling him with her as quickly as she could.

She could make out the dæmon's whistle and the deep barking of the hounds pursuing them.

[They're coming!]

Her power still worked, and she saw everything they did.

[Think! I need a plan—fast! If the dogs get you, it's done. I have to escape!]

Then she saw it—the river.

[The river … It's flooding, the current's fast. If we leap in, we might get out.]

Numbly, Attu trailed his mother at a distance.

Aurora squeezed his hand tighter, her heart racing as the howl of the dogs got louder.

If they overrun us, that demon will just kill us. [I must rescue Attu—by any means!]

The barking closed in.

Aurora whispered desperately:

"Just give me a little longer, please, God… just a few more steps… Attu… just a few more!"

She could see the river, just ahead—relief flashed through her chest.

[Thank God… we'll survive.]

She glanced back at Attu, squeezed his hand.

But she hadn't seen the demon move in much closer.

It was off, yes—but it was winding up to hurl a spear.

If they stopped for an instant, the dogs would have them.

Aurora's soundscape exposed it: The demon was then trained.

[No! He's throwing the spear! But at who?!]

"They really what?" She had it instantly—they were heading straight for Attu.

[He's going to toss it to my son. I won't let that happen.]

The demon hurled the spear.

[Even if we jump into the river now, he may throw another. And if I shove Attu to the side, the hounds will have him. I have to protect him. I must.]

They were only two steps from the river—when she froze.

I was running.

My mother, though… she stepped in back of me.

[Why did she stop?]

I turned around—

And beheld the coming of the demon's spear, flying against me already.

My mom stood in front of it.

She became his shield

Everything happened so fast.

I hardly understood what was happening.

But in that split second, I drew eyes with my mother.

And I didn't know what the look on the man's face meant.

Aurora's thoughts:

[What is this feeling...? It's familiar... Yes. I've felt this before.]

She smiled.

She was saving her son if it means giving her life.

And for some reason, she was happy.

She remembered them all:

The first time she held him.

The day he was born.

How his little hand held her finger.

She blinked at him now, with the same delight, the same love as then.

Tears were streaming down her face—Her heart was breaking, yet so warm with love.

Very softly and with a tremble in her voice, she whispered:

"I love you…"

The spear pierced her stomach.

Its tip protruded from her back.

The pain was unbearable—and when it ripped through her, it twinned.

But even in that agony, Aurora completed her sentence:

"…my son!"

With what little strength she had left, she pushed Attu's body in the direction of the water.

Those words—so warm, so sincere—I knew that in my heart they would be her final words.

I felt a stabbing, burning sensation in my chest.

It burst from my chest and ripped from my throat as a cry:

"Mother!"