As the vibrant orange glow of the setting sun surrendered to the cold, silvery luminescence of a crescent moon, David stood motionless, his pale face illuminated by the ethereal light. Lines of dried tears etched upon his cheeks, making him appear frozen in time, caught between the past and the present.

  Deep down, he understood that he should be venturing into the transformed world that lay before him, yet his mind felt paralyzed, incapable of formulating a single coherent thought.

  Clutching a fractured piece of blue wood in his trembling hands, he found himself rooted to the spot.

  A deluge of memories surged through his consciousness, an overwhelming tide of grief cascading down from his eyes, transforming into a waterfall of raw emotion. The longing he had buried so deeply years ago clawed at his heart, stifling any impulse to move forward.

  Visions of happier days flooded his mind, filled with the sounds of laughter, the sweet melodies of singing, and the carefree thrill of endless play. Each cherished memory prompted David to ponder the relentless passage of time, leaving him to wonder where those precious moments had vanished.

  Grief washed over him like a relentless tide, erasing the man he once was and leaving behind a shell filled with fear and uncertainty. The vibrant spirit he had been was replaced by a quivering figure who instinctively recoiled from any engagement. With every encounter, he chose flight over confrontation, relying on clever tricks – carefully crafted strategies imparted by professionals who sought to stitch together the remnants of his shattered normalcy. Each tactic was a bandage, a temporary shield against the chaos that surrounded him, but deep down, he grappled with the shadows of his former self, yearning for a flicker of hope amidst the turmoil.

  He yearns for someone he can never encounter again, never embrace, yet struggles to articulate the profound impact she has had on his soul. She lingers in his thoughts like a haunting melody, her essence woven into the very fabric of his memories, making the ache of her absence all the more poignant.

  Surrounded by the debris that had left his home in tatters, tremors appeared on his legs as David uneasily shifted his weight. His foot crept forward, eager to take a step, but a stubborn heaviness anchored his leg in place, rendering him unable to move.

  A wave of fear tightened around his heart like a vice. Instinctively, he retreated into the inky abyss of his memories, where shadows of the past danced mockingly at the edges of his consciousness. His thoughts spiraled deeper into this mental void, trapped in an unforgiving prison of recollections, unable to break free from the haunting echoes that ensnared him.

  He furrowed his brow, and the hairs on his arm stood erect—the tunic he wore was not enough to brave against the icy cold wind that howled through the apartment.

  Ripping apart his soul, every memory his mind touched felt like a hot, sharp piece of glass cutting into his skin, gouging out his flesh, and deepening the scars. As he reasoned with himself, David knew that he needed to find a solution to this pain.

  He stood at the edge of the bed, chewing on his lips, wrapping his arms around himself against the cold.

  Only two options came to David’s mind in a flash of horror. But both appeared to be horrible. He could discard the blue piece of wood, something he wanted to cherish forever, as David had promised her, and forget everything that surrounded the incident, her, and the guilt and shame he faced for years. But, there was also the opposite end: truly embrace the incident and finally find peace. Either option was hard and not something that emotionally should be taken lightly.

  David tapped his chin, his eyes darting about; aimlessly, his eyes roamed the debris that used to be his home without taking in the sight.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  He was overwhelmed with indecision; involuntarily, he covered his eyes with his hands. A choice had to be made regardless, and he told himself that going about this logically would be the only way to go.

  Fidgeting in place, hands balling into fists, David seemed on edge, poised for another wave of emotion that might finally push him over the brink of control.

  Rubbing his temples, David knew there were immediate benefits to the situation. He could become unshackled through it, liberated from the incident as he lost all connection to the only past he still cared about.

  David paced restlessly, his only companion the rhythmic echo of his boots striking the polished hardwood floor. He moved with measured precision in a relentless waltz, each footstep a deliberate placement in an unending choreography.

  A deep, agonizing pain flickered in his eyes as he instinctively drove his fist into the wall, leaving a jagged crack in the drywall and splintering the wooden studs hidden beneath. In that moment, reason battled against raw emotion; he understood that this was the sole path available to him. Choosing any other option would mean losing the essence of her, the vibrant thread that wove through his identity. Left adrift, stripped of the very piece that made him whole.

  Illuminated only by the pale silver glow of the cold night, David leaned against the wall he had just smashed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and furrowed his brows.

  Frustration bubbled within him, both hands scratching an unfelt itch at the back of his head. Objectively, David knew that with the decision made, he should try to move forward. Just embrace it and accept the incident. Don't hide away from it any longer. Don't let it control you. But David didn't know how. He had tried so long to do just that, but he had never been able to. What had changed so that the attempt would be successful now?

  His gaze swept out of the window, and he saw eerie clouds and emerald flashes of light. David nodded his head as if he agreed with an unseen truth.

  Resolved suffused his being as he remembered Brahan. The old man had done so much for David, more than he would ever realize. David had experienced much within the trials, but what gave him courage were the metaphors Brahan had imparted to him. The wisdom Brahan had passed on to him.

  David's face erupted into a genuine smile with hints of warmth and yearning. He shook his head and even began to laugh.

  David ran his hand along the length of his hair. It had always been so simple, David now realized. He had accepted that she was gone—Clara was gone. Before today, David was unwilling to let her go. He had lived shrouded in his past, refusing to give up. But to honor her, he had to stop and face forward.

  Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, but David still laughed. The silver light began to warm him as he laughed and cried interchangeably.

  Joy and sadness enveloped him, but now the emotions did not control him anymore. Somehow, David knew this was a turning point for him, but embracing it and overcoming it were two different things.

  David straightened his back and strode toward the nearby heap of clothes. He rummaged through the pile and found a piece of white cloth—Clara's favorite handkerchief. Luckily, it had survived the ordeal, so he wrapped a blue piece of wood in it.

  Intuitively, he exhaled a breath of air as relief flooded him. Rationally, he knew that shoving Clara's memories in the back of his mind had caused him the pain he had feared all along, but now he would forever remember her dearly; she was his Clara, after all, and pain would never again take her from him.

  David left the remains of her bedroom with lighter steps than he ever would have thought possible.

  " You're weird, " The eerie voice had returned.

  David laughed to himself. The voice he had used to guard against felt so small now, as if a child was speaking to their elder; the tone was unsure and lacked confidence.

  " You too, " David said into the air. " You too, my friend. "

  He rubbed the hilt of his sword with his finger, drawing courage from it. Turning towards the kitchen, he found nothing but chewed-on aluminum and plastic containers.

  Annoyance filled his mind. Of course, all the food was gone, devoured by whatever magical monster now roamed Gaia. He had to come up with a new plan and fast.

  Without looking back, David strode out of the ruined door and gazed at the moon. A rumble sounded from his stomach, and David blushed.

  " Hungry, too. " The voice stated, the more both of them conversed the more David became certain the voice had the mental age of a child.

  " Me too, little guy, me too." David's words broke the stillness over the apartment complex, infusing the place with the hustle and bustle of life.

  David, knowing it was too late to venture forth, decided that sleeping here was as good a place as he could find.

  He grabbed some half-chewed pillows and went back to Clara's room. Another smile bloomed on his face as he remembered scenes of Clara and himself painting the walls the neon pink they used to be before age and wear had dulled the bright color.

  David arranged the pillows and some of her old clothes into a makeshift cot before settling down.

  " Good night, my Princess. Sleep tight for your Dad. I promise I will never forget you. "

  David clutched the wooden piece wrapped tightly in a white cloth. He caressed it lovingly before planting a faint kiss on the linen.

  His heart was filled with nothing but love, and the feeling he received from the piece was one of warmth. It was something he could never give up and from which he drew strength.