The Reapers : Sons of the Void

Moon Manor, Silent Gardens

The sun cast its second morning rays on the earth. In the far, secluded section of the palace, the shadow of a giant oak still held its coolness. Miller stood with his eyes half-closed, a few steps behind Elion Varell.

Elion, wearing simple brown robes, had knelt on the ground. He carried neither a staff nor any ornate symbol—he blended into nature as if he were just a gardener.

Elion (eyes closed):

"Earth is not just the ground you walk on, Miller. It is also the first witness to bear the weight of your soul."

Miller sat down. At first, his posture seemed relaxed, but something unfamiliar stirred within him. Time seemed to slow beside Elion.

Miller:

"I always thought I had to be strong. But here… in silence, I don't even know what to do."

Elion (with a gentle smile):

"People grow by shouting. But what grows is only noise, not the person. In silence, the will develops."

They fell silent. Leaves rustled softly. Miller gazed up at the oak tree.

Miller:

"Everyone says I have three voices inside me. But sometimes I can't hear any of them. Only chaos."

Elion (opening his eyes):

"The three aspects are not separate voices. They are echoes of a single whole.

Reaper gives you strength… but covers you in shadow.

Vartikan gives you feeling… but ties you to nature's balance.

Nebulis gives you intuition… but draws you into silence.

While they waver within you… you only hear noise."

Miller bowed his head and rested his hands on his knees.

Miller:

"How do I distinguish these voices? Which one is mine?"

Elion:

"The first step is admitting that none of them belong to you.

You… are Miller Auren. You serve those voices; they do not serve you.

If the voices are to become yours, you must learn them first.

So today, we will learn only one thing: to listen."

Elion removed a small, flat black stone from his robe and placed it in Miller's palm.

Elion:

"This is an Iridion stone. For thousands of years, it has only touched echoes.

Hold it… and observe the silence."

Miller took the stone and closed his eyes. For a moment, he felt nothing. Then things shifted. The surface vibrated faintly. His heartbeat felt suddenly foreign. The stone did not belong to the outside world; it was the echo of his inner world.

Miller (whispering):

"The stone… as if… it's speaking in another language to my heartbeats."

Elion (quietly):

"Now it begins. Don't suppress this sound. Close your eyes and remain with that echo."

Miller closed his eyes. The surrounding sounds receded. The wind, birds, distant soldiers—everything faded to the background. The stone's vibration slowed… but something new emerged: Miller's own will.

Scene Transition: Hours passed in the garden; the sun leaned low. Elion remained seated. Miller opened his eyes, stone still in hand.

Miller:

"I... felt like someone was inside me. They didn't speak—but they watched me."

Elion (nodding):

"That is one of your aspects. But they haven't spoken to you yet; they remain a stranger.

This training will be long, Miller. But in the end… you will hear yourself—not them."

Miller nodded. This was no longer a battle; it was a journey.

Final Shot: In the background, Velora watches them from a distance, her expression serious yet proud.

Velora (inner voice):

"Miller… he was born carrying burdens too heavy for this world.

But if he refuses to bear them, no one else will."

Moon Manor – Training Path by the Resonance GroundsThe sky was clear, and the air remained cool. Brien and Arwen lay parallel on the stone ground, doing push‑ups. Beads of sweat dripped from their foreheads. Garron watched them from afar—an unmoving statue.

Brien (on the 41st push‑up, out of breath):

"So… he said 1,000, but he gave up counting, right?"

Arwen (on the 44th push‑up, calm):

"No. I'm counting. Your numbers are… creative."

Brien:

"Hey! I'm just doing dynamic reps… at my own inner rhythm."

Arwen (smirking):

"That's not rhythm—it's mathematical treason."

Brien (muttering):

"I wish my resonance was 'deceiving with words.'"

Arwen:

"It might be. But I think yours is more 'wear out the enemy with talk.'"

Brien (laughing, continuing push‑ups):

"You see! That's the strategy. I talk, the enemy loses focus. Then… BAM! Push‑up."

Arwen (raising an eyebrow):

"Yes—I heard that 'bam' when you hit the ground."

Brien:

"Don't embarrass me, Arwen. I'm having artistic sweats here."

Arwen:

"Fine, Michelangelo. But do build some strength."

Brien (turning his head to look at her):

"You're very serious. Being this disciplined… doesn't it get boring?"

Arwen (suddenly serious, but gentle):

"Discipline gave me life. It taught me to stand in chaos."

Brien (pausing a moment, then dropping back into push‑ups):

"Then… I'm chaos incarnate. I exist to break your balance."

Arwen (smiling):

"That sentence… is so you."

Brien:

"Is it impressive?"

Arwen:

"No. A complete nuisance."

Brien (nodding proudly):

"Thank you. I accept my title as Auren, Nuisance Extraordinaire."

The energy between them shifted slowly—from competition to playful harmony. Arwen's gaze lingered on Brien's expression—cheerful yet defiant. Strong but erratic. And strangely… authentic.

Arwen (inner voice):

"How different we are. But strangely… it feels good."

Brien (plopping onto the ground):

"Yeah… okay. I feel like I've died at 84 push‑ups—not 1,000."

Arwen (still on her push‑ups):

"I've passed 112. But I can wait for you to finish…"

Brien:

"Thanks. I can stay on the ground a little longer… to admire the sky."

Garron (quietly from afar):

"I don't know of any technique that strengthens by face‑planting… but it's interesting."

Brien (turning toward Garron):

"Garron, even your silence feels like mocking me."

Final Shot:

Arwen and Brien lie side by side, staring at the ground, softly laughing. They're exhausted, but also more open to each other. The competition is gradually evolving into a kind of... companionship.

Scene: Sunset – Moon Manor's Gardens

Training had ended. The sun leaned westward; shadows grew long. Velora gave her final instructions. Everyone was tired, but oddly fulfilled.

Arwen wiped sweat from her brow and stepped aside. Brien dropped his sword and sat down, still breathing heavily.

Arwen:

"It was truly an inferno of training."

Brien (smiling):

"Even hell isn't this sweaty."

Arwen chuckled softly—tired, but sincerely.

Arwen:

"Come. Let's head to the palace baths. I want to hear nothing but water."

Brien (standing):

"If I fall asleep on the way, you'll have to carry me."

They walked slowly back toward the palace. Garron followed silently behind them, but these steps lacked his old, distant demeanor. Something inside had changed. For the first time…

Garron (inner voice):

"This boy… is not what I thought. He's not spoiled or arrogant. Simply… has a different shell. But inside he's pure. Innocent… like I once was."

Brien froze mid-step and turned around.

Brien:

"Garron? Everything okay?"

Garron hesitated briefly, then nodded subtly.

Garron:

"Yes. And… thank you."

Brien looked back at him.

Brien:

"For what?"

Garron did not look away, his voice quiet but clear:

Garron:

"For reminding me there's more to you than you show."

Brien's expression softened, then he brought back his usual smile.

Brien:

"I admit I do overdo it a bit… but I'm not that bad, am I?"

Garron (nodding):

"No. You're not. You're good."

They continued walking, Arwen a few steps ahead. She caught sight of Brien's expression: serious eyes beneath his grin. Growing sharper… stronger… real.

Moon Manor – Library Corridors – SimultaneouslyMiller had bid farewell to Elion Varell and walked silently toward the vast, old library in the palace's east wing. The stone walls glowed with sunset's orange shadows.

The crystal doors opened gently.

The library was empty. But the knowledge on its shelves greeted Miller like an echo. He slowed his pace, let his breath settle. Elion's lessons still echoed in his mind.

Miller (inner voice):

"Before I can interpret these voices… I must write them down, read them. If I understand the past… perhaps the voices will understand me."

Stepping deeper inside, the dust of old books paved his new path.

Moon Manor – Night, Brien's Room

Brien emerged from the bathhouse, wrapped in a silk robe, hair still damp. He yawned softly by the window in his room, feeling settled—but something was missing. Garron stood, silent and upright, in a corner.

Brien (dropping the towel and speaking softly):

"Garron… I know you're here because you have to be. But you don't need to stand."

Garron did not reply. His face remained neutral, but his eyes flickered slightly.

Brien (pausing, then shouting with flair):

"BOLBIN!

Oh lord of breakfasts, master of pillows, wizard among furnishings!

I have… a task for you!"

Garron shut his eyes briefly—perhaps embarrassed, perhaps not.

The door practically flew open. Bolbin burst in, cheeks flushed, glasses askew.

Bolbin:

"At your command, Lord Auren! I arrive like a buttery alarm!"

Brien (more serious yet relaxed):

"Listen carefully, dear Bolbin. I want a real bed brought for Garron. None of that field‑camp nonsense. A proper human bed.

And remove the huge royal one in the center… replace it with two single beds… side by side.

Also… a wardrobe. For his things. I don't want his armor stuffed into a box like some sacred relic."

Bolbin adjusted his glasses. His eyes glistened, and he bowed deeply.

Bolbin (hand on his chest):

"Lord Auren… ah! Even the fabrics wept. That is the voice of elegance!

By morning, Garron's bed will be decked with stars!"

Garron lowered his head. It wasn't exactly a smile, but for the first time, a gentle acceptance touched his expression.

Brien (shrugging, with a soft sigh):

"After all, we share this room… it's not an inn—it's our home.

And people… don't live standing up—they live side by side."

Garron (inner voice):

"This boy… is far more than he seems.

I won't just stay loyal to him.

I will… serve him with my heart."