The BL System Won't Let Me Rest!

Darkness swallowed the chamber.

Rin couldn’t see Eryndor. He couldn’t see the golden sphere or the mysterious stranger. Even the ground beneath his feet seemed to have disappeared.

”Eryndor?”

His voice echoed into the emptiness.

No answer.

”Eryndor!”

Something grabbed his wrist. Rin flinched, nearly pulling away, until familiar fingers tightened around his own.

”Stop shouting. I’m right here.”

Eryndor.

Rin seized his hand before he could disappear again.

”Don’t let go.”

Eryndor squeezed his fingers. ”I wasn’t planning to.”

A faint light appeared in the distance. Then another. Slowly, the darkness dissolved, revealing a narrow stone corridor. Rin recognized the architecture immediately.

They weren’t in the chamber anymore.

Eryndor stared at their surroundings. ”Where are we?”

Rin shook his head. ”I don’t know.”

A familiar voice answered from behind them.

”You are inside his memory.”

The silver-eyed stranger stood at the end of the corridor, his pale clothing untouched by the darkness.

Eryndor immediately stepped in front of Rin.

”What did you do to us?”

”Nothing. He touched the stone himself.”

”You knew this would happen.”

”I knew he would remember.”

Eryndor’s expression hardened. ”Remember what?”

The stranger glanced toward the corridor. ”Look.”

At the far end, a door opened.

Beyond it lay a sunlit room. Warm light spilled across a wooden floor, and the faint sound of birds drifted through an open window. Rin saw two children sitting beside it. One was Aelion. The other was Eryndor, perhaps eight years old, with messy hair and a serious expression that seemed much too old for his small face.

Aelion held a piece of bread.

Eryndor was staring at it with unmistakable hunger.

”You can have half,” Aelion said.

”I don’t need your food.”

”Then why are you staring at it?”

”I’m not.”

Aelion laughed and broke the bread in two. He handed the larger piece to Eryndor.

The younger boy accepted it reluctantly.

”You’re terrible at pretending you don’t want things,” Aelion remarked.

”And you’re terrible at pretending you don’t care.”

Aelion stopped laughing.

For a moment, the children simply looked at each other. Then Aelion smiled, softer this time.

”Maybe.”

The memory faded.

Rin felt something tighten in his chest. It was such a small moment. No prophecy, no divine power, no terrible fate. Just two children sharing their food.

Yet it felt more important than the grand visions they had witnessed before.

Eryndor stood motionless beside him.

”I remember that room,” he whispered.

Rin turned toward him. ”You do?”

”Not clearly.” Eryndor pressed a hand against his forehead. ”I remember being hungry. I remember someone giving me food. But I can’t remember what happened afterward.”

The stranger watched him carefully. ”Keep looking.”

The corridor changed.

This time, the memory showed a garden surrounded by high stone walls. Aelion stood beneath a flowering tree, holding a small silver ring. Eryndor approached him, suspicious as ever.

”What’s that?”

”Something I found.”

”Where?”

”Somewhere I’m not supposed to go.”

Eryndor frowned. ”You shouldn’t steal things.”

”I didn’t steal it.”

”You just said you found it somewhere forbidden.”

”That doesn’t mean I stole it.”

Eryndor sighed. ”You’re impossible.”

Aelion laughed and slipped the ring onto a chain around his neck.

”One day, I’ll leave this house.”

Eryndor looked at him. ”Where will you go?”

”Anywhere.”

”Can I come?”

Aelion’s smile softened. ”Of course.”

The image trembled. For one instant, Rin saw a third figure standing beneath the tree: a woman dressed in white. Her face was indistinct, as if the memory itself refused to preserve it, but her attention was fixed on the boys.

Then the memory vanished.

Rin looked at the stranger. ”Who was that woman?”

The stranger didn’t answer.

Eryndor’s breathing had become uneven. ”She was there,” he murmured.

”Who?”

”I don’t know. But I remember someone watching us.” He looked down at his arm, where the black mark lay hidden beneath his sleeve. ”She frightened me. I don’t know why.”

The stranger nodded. ”She had reason to.”

Eryndor stepped toward him. ”Tell me who she was.”

”No.”

”Why?”

”Because you must remember her yourself.”

Eryndor clenched his fists. ”You keep deciding what I can know!”

The corridor shook. Cracks spread across the walls, and dust poured from the ceiling in thin streams.

Rin grabbed Eryndor’s shoulder. ”Calm down!”

Eryndor looked at him, startled by the urgency in his voice. Rin lowered his tone and held his gaze.

”Please. We don’t know what happens if this place collapses. Getting answers won’t help if we’re buried inside a memory.”

Eryndor took a slow breath. The cracks stopped spreading.

The stranger looked at Rin with renewed interest. ”You understand more than you admit.”

Rin ignored him.

Inside his mind, Aelion finally spoke.

We need to leave.

Rin’s stomach tightened. Why?

Because this memory isn’t showing everything.

What is it hiding?

Aelion hesitated.

The moment Eryndor received the mark.

Rin glanced at Eryndor. The boy was staring at another door that had appeared farther down the corridor. A faint black light seeped through its edges, pulsing in time with the mark beneath his sleeve.

”That’s it,” Eryndor whispered.

Rin caught his arm. ”Wait.”

Eryndor looked at him. ”I have to know.”

”I understand, but we don’t know what’s behind it.”

”It’s my memory.”

”And that means you should be careful.”

Eryndor studied Rin’s face. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

”You sound like me.”

Rin almost laughed. ”That’s unfortunate.”

”Very.”

For a brief moment, everything felt normal again. Then Eryndor pushed open the door.

Inside stood a circular chamber filled with white-robed figures. At the center, a younger Eryndor knelt on the floor. His hands were bound, and a black symbol had been drawn beneath him in a circle of silver powder.

Aelion stood among the figures, his face pale with anger.

”You promised me he would be safe!”

An older man answered calmly, ”He will be safe once the process is complete.”

”You said you only needed to examine the mark!”

”We discovered something more valuable.”

Aelion stepped forward. ”Stop this.”

The man shook his head. ”Your destiny is greater than your friendship with a servant.”

Aelion’s expression changed. ”Touch him again, and I swear—”

The memory shattered before Rin could hear the rest.

A terrible silence followed. Eryndor stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway. Then he slowly looked at his own hands, as though he expected to find the bindings still cutting into his skin.

”I remember.”

His voice was barely audible.

Rin moved closer. ”What do you remember?”

Eryndor swallowed. ”They told me it would be over quickly.” His eyes remained fixed on the empty chamber. ”They said I was helping Aelion. They said he needed me, and that if I refused, something terrible would happen to him.”

Rin’s heart ached. ”Eryndor...”

”I believed them.” He looked at Rin, confusion and hurt mixing in his expression. ”Why didn’t Aelion stop them?”

Rin couldn’t answer. He knew Aelion had tried, but Eryndor needed to remember that truth himself.

The silver-eyed stranger approached them.

”He did stop them.”

Eryndor turned sharply. ”Then why was I marked?”

”Because stopping them came at a price.”

”What price?”

The stranger looked toward Rin. ”That is the memory Aelion refuses to face.”

Inside Rin’s mind, Aelion fell silent.

Eryndor noticed the stranger’s gaze. ”What does Aelion have to do with this?”

Rin looked from the stranger to Eryndor, searching for some sign that either of them understood what was happening. Eryndor’s face had closed again, but his fingers remained wrapped around Rin’s, holding on with a force that betrayed his fear. Rin wanted to tell him that he was not alone, that whatever the memory revealed, it did not erase the kindness between them. Yet those words felt too small against the weight of the Gods’ decision. He had come here hoping to change the past. Now he wondered whether every attempt to help would only guide them toward the very tragedy he wanted to prevent from happening, somehow.

”Everything.”

The corridor began to collapse. The white-robed figures vanished, one by one. The walls peeled away into darkness, and the door behind them disappeared.

Rin grabbed Eryndor’s hand. ”Run!”

They raced toward the fading light. Behind them, the stranger remained perfectly still, as if the collapse could not touch him.

”Remember this,” he called.

Eryndor glanced back. ”What?”

”You were not chosen because you were weak.”

The floor split beneath their feet. Rin pulled Eryndor forward, but the corridor was already dissolving around them.

”You were chosen because he loved you enough to challenge the Gods.”

The corridor vanished.

Rin and Eryndor fell into darkness, hands locked together as the last fragments of the memory spun away above them.

Then Rin heard Aelion’s voice, clear and broken.

I tried to save him.

A flash of golden light appeared below them, distant but growing brighter.

But I made the wrong choice.

Rin tightened his grip on Eryndor’s hand.

Somewhere beneath the forgotten city, beyond the reach of the stranger’s silver eyes, something began to awaken.