Journey to Become the Zenith

Aria!!! [Part-2]

Evening arrived before she realized it.

Yet the grave was still only halfway finished.

Aria sat back against the dirt while breathing heavily. Her hands trembled from exhaustion.

When she looked down, her fingers were dirty, bleeding, and swollen.

But strangely...

She felt nothing.

The pain inside her chest was far greater than the wounds on her hands.

Eventually she walked toward the nearby river to wash herself.

The cold water stung against the cuts immediately, making her flinch slightly.

Still she carefully cleaned the dirt and blood away.

The river reflected her exhausted face back at her.

Black hair covered in dust.

Red swollen eyes.

A girl who looked far older than her age.

After washing her hands, Aria searched through several abandoned homes hoping to find medicine or bandages.

As expected...

There was nothing left.

So instead she gathered nearby medicinal leaves and wrapped them around her wounds carefully.

Afterward she collected herbs, broken branches, and firewood before preparing a small meal using a pot she found inside one of the ruined homes.

The soup was thin.

Barely edible.

But she quietly ate it anyway beside the fire.

The crackling flames were the only sound left within the ruined village.

That silence hurt more than anything else.

Later that night, Aria entered one of the few houses that still had part of its roof intact. She cleaned the room quietly so she could sleep there for the night.

While cleaning, her eyes suddenly froze.

A scarf.

Old.

Faded.

But familiar.

Instantly, the past rushed in when her fingers touched it.

Here she stood, outside the home of someone who’d known her since they were kids.

Fingers touched fabric, then understanding came - Aria recognized it right away.

Years ago, getting wool in the village took real effort. Because of that, they worked on the scarf side by side, stitch after stitch. Their plan? To keep it between them, always.

Her friend was next in line to take care of it.

Aria held the scarf close, arms wrapping around it bit by bit.

A breath held. Then silence took its place.

Laughter, nearly within reach once more, seemed to echo from a memory just out of sight.

See her smiling face.

See the bright future they once dreamed about together.

Then suddenly—

A horrible memory tried resurfacing.

Blood.

Screaming.

Fear.

Aria immediately shut her eyes tightly.

”No...”

Her fingers tightened around the scarf.

She forced those memories deep into the darkness of her mind.

She did not want to remember her friend like that.

Not broken.

Not terrified.

She wanted to remember her smiling.

Happy.

Alive.

That was the version she wanted to protect forever.

That night Aria used the scarf as a blanket while sleeping inside the ruined house.

And throughout the silent night...

She dreamed of happier days.

...

The following day, she continued digging the grave of the fallen adventurer.

The morning air was cold while fog drifted through the ruined village like wandering ghosts.

Each breath that escaped Aria’s lips turned faintly white before disappearing into the mist. The ruined houses around her stood silent and broken, their charred remains creaking softly whenever the wind passed through them.

Aria’s hands were already injured from yesterday, yet she continued digging without complaint.

The wooden shovel scraped against the hardened soil again and again.

Her palms had long since blistered open. Dirt clung beneath her fingernails while dried blood stained the rough handle.

Still, she kept digging.

The sound of metal and soil echoed faintly through the empty village.

At some point, her weakened arms trembled from exhaustion.

She stopped only for a moment, lowering her head slightly as she struggled to steady her breathing.

Then quietly, almost like she was speaking to someone still listening, she muttered,

”...You really were stupid.”

Her voice sounded hoarse in the cold air.

”You barely knew me.”

The fog drifted past her silently.

Aria lowered the shovel again and continued digging.

After several more exhausting hours, she finally finished the grave.

It wasn’t deep enough for a human body.

But it was enough.

Enough for what remained.

Aria stared silently at the shallow grave for several long seconds.

The silence around her felt unbearably heavy.

Then slowly, she turned and walked back toward the ruined remains of the village.

Carefully stepping over collapsed wood and shattered stone, she searched through the debris once more.

Eventually, her eyes stopped on something half-buried beneath ash and broken rubble.

Aria carefully carried over the broken wooden shield she found among the ruins.

It belonged to the young adventurer.

The slave traders probably considered the shield worthless and left it behind.

The wood was cracked.

The edges were chipped badly from repeated impacts.

One side was partially burned black from the fire.

Yet Aria held it carefully with both hands.

For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to treat it like trash.

Her fingers brushed softly across the damaged surface.

And then—

That loud, carefree grin appeared in her mind once more.

”This might be a crappy wooden shield now, but once I grow famous it’s going to be the first shield of my great adventure.”

The young adventurer had laughed proudly while raising the shield with both hands.

”A shield that would be able to protect hundreds.”

He had laughed proudly while saying those words as children teased him mercilessly.

Back then everyone laughed with him.

At the time, Aria remembered looking at him like he was an idiot.

A naive idiot with impossible dreams.

Yet now—

Standing alone inside the silent ruins—

Her fingers tightened slightly around the broken shield.

”...You couldn’t even protect yourself.”

The words left her lips quietly.

Not mocking.

Not cold.

Just painfully true.

Only silence remained.

Aria carefully placed the shield into the grave.

Then slowly she covered it with dirt.

Once it was finished, she knelt down before the grave.

Her hands pressed together quietly.

”Thank you young hero... I hope in your next life you have that grand adventure you always wished for.”

The wind gently rustled the grass around the hill.

Almost like an answer.

After finishing her prayer, Aria stood up and bowed respectfully toward the grave.

Then she carefully stacked five stones on top of one another as a marker.

A simple grave.

Yet filled with sincerity.

Aria stared at it silently for several moments before finally turning around.

Below the hill stood the great tree overlooking the ruined village.

Many more graves still waited there.

Her exhausted eyes slowly hardened with determination again.

’There are more graves to dig.’

Aria planned to bury whatever possessions of the dead villagers she could still find beneath the earth.

This was another belief from her village.

They believed the belongings of the dead could guide their souls safely through the afterlife and into their next life.

It was going to take a long time.

Even if the graves were shallow.

Because Aria had nothing else to use but her bare hands.