Night draped the village in silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of wind brushing past scorched wood. The once-lively streets were hollow, the air tinged with smoke and memory. Aaron sat on the broken steps of the house that had been his home, staring out into the distance, unmoving.
Evelyn stayed near, reluctant to leave his side. "You should rest," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.
He didn't respond.
"Aaron…"
He finally turned to her, eyes hollow. "Go home, Eve."
"I don't want to leave you alone like this."
"You're not leaving me forever," he murmured. "Just for tonight. I need… some time.Please."
In the distance, Evelyn's aunt called her name. Evelyn looked back at Aaron, torn, but eventually nodded. "I'll come tomorrow morning."
Aaron gave a faint nod. She turned and walked away, looking back just once before the night swallowed her.
Left alone, the grief that had been pressing on his chest all day finally broke through. He sat there until his legs grew numb, then stumbled inside the house—Aldric's house—and wept into the emptiness. The house echoed with silence, the kind that made grief louder. He cried until he couldn't anymore, until his tears dried and sleep found him slumped against the wall.
Morning light crept in through the damaged shutters. True to her word, Evelyn returned, a small bundle of food in her hands. She found him sitting exactly where she'd left him, only now his eyes were darker, his face pale.
"I brought something for you," she said gently.
"I'm not hungry."
Evelyn gave him a look but didn't push further. She knew Aaron could be stubborn at times, and today was not the day to argue. Instead, she placed the food on the nearby table and quietly left, her eyes lingering on him before the door closed behind her.
Aaron sat in silence for a while, then stood up and began to move around the house. He wasn't sure what he was looking for—perhaps something of Aldric's, some remnant of the man who had meant everything to him. He checked drawers, lifted old books, opened cabinets. There were broken dishes, torn papers, cracked frames—but nothing that gave comfort.
Finally, in Aldric's room, he knelt by the old trunk at the foot of the bed. Its corner was scorched, blackened by the flames that had licked through the house, but it had survived. Aaron opened it slowly. A faint smell of smoke and wood greeted him. As he shifted through the belongings, his fingers brushed over something folded and crisp.
A letter—charred at the edge, but intact.
He unfolded it with trembling hands and began to read.
**"My dear boy,
If you're reading this… then perhaps I've gone ahead before you came home. I had hoped to see you walk through that door one more time, to see the boy I raised as my own return a man. But my strength has been fading these past weeks, and though my heart wanted to wait, my body may not have had the same resolve.
There's something I've wanted to say for a long time. Thank you—for coming into my life. I remember that stormy night like it was yesterday… the way fate handed me a bundle of light in the middle of the rain. You were barely breathing, but you were alive, and somehow… I knew I couldn't let go.
Raising you has been the greatest joy of my life. I've watched you grow from a wide-eyed boy with scraped knees to a young man full of courage and fire. I may not have given you your name or blood, but I gave you all that I had.
Don't mourn me, Aaron. I've lived a full life, and I left this world proud. Not because of what I did—but because of who you are. My only wish now is that you live on, strong and kind, as you always were meant to be.
Lead the life you've fought for. And don't forget to smile now and then. You always looked better with it.
With love,
Aldric"**
Aaron's hands shook as he finished reading. The words blurred through his tears, but he held the letter to his chest as if it could bring Aldric back for a moment longer. The ache in his chest was deep and raw, but there was something warm beneath it—like a quiet light left behind.
He sat in silence for a long time, the letter folded in his hand, his gaze lost in the ashes and shadows of the home he once knew.