Adrian sat at the edge of his bed, silently staring at the wooden floor, which somehow felt quieter than usual. After his encounter with Agoris, something inside him had changed. He still didn't know where fate would take him, but one thing was certain: the path ahead would not be a peaceful one. Intrigue, mystery, and danger... all awaited in every corner of this seemingly beautiful world that hid thorns beneath its charm.
Another encounter with Agoris was only a matter of time—when or where, he couldn't say. But Adrian knew he couldn't just sit and wait for fate to come knocking.
'I have to find my own path... no matter what it takes,' he murmured to himself, filled with resolve.
The days passed.
A bright blue sky stretched over the village of Rockville, marking the arrival of a long-awaited special day—the Aestas Festival, a celebration of summer and the harvest season. Since morning, the village had been buzzing with life. Colorful decorations hung between buildings, the air was filled with the sweet aroma of honey cakes and grilled meats, and children's laughter created a rhythm of joy throughout the main streets.
Although the festival was to be held in the evening, the excitement had already taken over the village by midday. Everyone was busy preparing—costumes, food, and various performances were all being readied. However, Adrian and Jerome had no special duties that day.
With relaxed smiles and no elaborate plans, they decided to spend their time with the orphans at Eternal Sunshine Orphanage, the place where Jerome had grown up. The orphanage was run by the Church of the Eternal Light Goddess and had stood since the time of the Fourth Age.
The building stood quietly on the eastern edge of the village—made of sturdy old wood, surrounded by a small garden and lush trees. From the outside, it looked like an ancient mansion forgotten by time, but its aura was filled with a warmth that calmed the heart.
In the front yard, they saw a woman in a nun's habit of sweeping dry pine needles that had fallen from an old tree. Her silver hair was neatly tied into a bun, and her face radiated a serene calm.
Jerome waved. "Hey, Sister Nellie!"
Sister Nellie looked up and gave a faint smile. "Jerome? Well, you've come back earlier. That's unusual—you're usually off who knows where."
Then her gaze shifted to the figure standing beside Jerome. Her gentle eyes widened slightly. "Adrian...? It's been a while." She bowed respectfully, placing a hand over her chest. "May your days be blessed."
Adrian returned the gesture politely, bowing as well. "I hope the same for you, Sister Nellie. Thank you."
"I'm glad to see you healthy," Nellie said, resting the broom in front of her. "What brings you here today?"
Instead of Adrian, it was Jerome who answered her question. "We want to take the children to play by the Sanbrough River. Just something to pass the time until the festival tonight. Would that be alright?"
Sister Nellie let out a small sigh before offering a faint smile. "Technically, they're not allowed to go too far... But since today is a special occasion, and the river is still within village bounds, I suppose it's fine just this once."
Adrian added, "We'll take good care of them. You don't have to worry."
"In that case, may the Eternal Light Goddess watch over you."
After exchanging farewells, the two entered the orphanage. The scent of aged wood and faint incense welcomed them, creating a peaceful atmosphere that felt almost hypnotic. They climbed the stairs to the second floor where the children's rooms were—but it was quiet. No voices, no pattering footsteps.
"That's strange. Where is everyone?" Adrian asked.
Jerome nodded toward a nearby window. "Maybe out back."
And sure enough—
When they peeked through the window, they saw dozens of children in worn clothing but with bright, eager faces playing in the wide grassy yard. Their laughter and cheers drifted into the air like small birds dancing in the wind.
Adrian stood still. Memories of his own childhood on Earth crept into his mind—times when, as Rafael, he had also felt the warmth of togetherness, even in the silence of simplicity. He, too, had once lived in an orphanage, and seeing these children felt like looking at a version of himself... from a life long gone.
'Childhood… it really is that short. But its beauty... never truly fades.'
Jerome stepped into the yard with a cheerful gait. "Hey! Who wants to go play at the Sanbrough River?!"
The children froze mid-play, looking over with disbelief at first—then their faces lit up with hope.
"Really, Brother Jerome?"
"Yes! I'm serious!" Jerome replied, clenching a fist triumphantly.
The cheers erupted. The little eyes sparkled—they looked as if they'd just heard this was going to be the happiest day of their lives.
Once everything was ready, the small group set off for the river that ran along Rockville's eastern edge. The village path guided them forward, the gentle breeze tousling their hair and scattering leaves in their wake as if the world itself was blessing every step they took.
***
Shelly. That was her name—a name that might once have sounded sweet, but now echoed like a hollow memory from a dark past.
The little girl sat beneath a large tree in the backyard of Eternal Sunshine Orphanage, the place that had become the only shelter left in her life. The golden light of the afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, dancing across her long, unbound black hair. But that light could not penetrate the coldness in Shelly's gaze—eyes that had lost their shine since the night everything changed.
Once... she had a family. A gentle father, and a mother who always kissed her forehead before bed. But it all came crashing down in a single night.
A thief, drunk on lust and greed, broke into their home. Screams, blood, and terrified stares... they all lived vividly in Shelly's memory. She saw everything—watched as her parents died before her eyes, just before the village guards arrived—too late. Far too late.
Since that night, Shelly hadn't smiled again. She locked her heart tightly, refusing to let anyone in—not even Sister Nellie, the angel-hearted woman who cared for the children at the orphanage, or Jerome Welcott, the eldest boy beloved by everyone there.
Children her age tried to play with her, but she always declined. Not because she hated them—but because she didn't understand.
"Why can they still laugh...? How can they play like they've never lost anything?" That was the question she had once asked Sister Nellie one night, her voice faint, her eyes blank.
Sister Nellie had only offered a gentle smile, her face filled with compassion."Because they've found a new world, Shelly. A new family."
Shelly looked at her, confused. "Family? That cannot be replaced," she had replied—and to this day, she still believed it.
That afternoon, from beneath the tree where she usually kept to herself, Shelly watched from afar. She saw the other children gathering in the front yard, laughing with Jerome and a blue-haired boy she had never seen before—Adrian. They were getting ready to head to the Sanbrough River to play until the evening festival began.
The cheerful atmosphere felt like a world apart from Shelly—a world that no longer belonged to her.
"Not going with them?" came a gentle, warm voice from behind.
Shelly flinched slightly and turned around. It was Sister Nellie. The woman smiled, as always, as if she could see straight into the hearts of the children she cared for.
Shelly turned her gaze back to the front. "What for? They never want to play with me anyway," she said quietly, her tone flat, as usual.
Sister Nellie didn't respond right away. She sat down slowly beside Shelly, leaning her wooden broom against the tree trunk. Her aging, gentle hand softly stroked Shelly's head, as if trying to soothe the trauma hidden behind the girl's long hair.
"Shelly... They haven't played with you not because they don't want to, but because you always push them away. Sometimes, opening the door to your heart is the first step to rediscovering the world you once lost."
Shelly stayed silent. The words echoed in her ears like sounds from a distant place. She didn't reply—only stared toward the group of children now beginning to walk out of the orphanage yard, heading toward the narrow path that led to the Sanbrough River.
And that was when her eyes landed on the unfamiliar boy. Adrian—the blue-haired child whose face was strange and yet... somehow different. There was something she couldn't quite explain. Something that made her look a little longer than she meant to.
Shelly lowered her gaze, staring at the ground. Then, after a moment, she slowly stood.
'It's not because I want to play with them…' she told herself silently, as if trying to justify the decision. 'I just want to see a different view.'
Her steps were slow but steady. She began following the group of children from a distance. No one noticed her presence—and she preferred it that way.
From beneath the tree, Sister Nellie simply smiled, full of hope. Her hands clasped together as she offered a silent prayer to the Eternal Light Goddess.
'May today be the beginning for you, Shelly... the first step toward opening that closed door once again.'
Above Rockville, the sky slowly turned red, welcoming the coming night of the festival. But for Shelly, this might just be the first light to touch her heart… since the night that stole everything away.
***
The golden rays of the setting sun reflected on the surface of the Sanbrough River, forming shimmering ripples that sparkled like crystals. The laughter of orphans from Eternal Sunshine Orphanage echoed along the riverbank, blending with the gentle murmur of the water and the soft breeze of summer.
Amidst the cheerful noise, a fishing rod sliced through the air and landed in the water with a small splash. Several minutes passed in anticipatory silence, until suddenly the rod bent sharply. The water churned.
"Look! Big brother Jerome caught a fish!" the children shouted in unison, their voices erupting with excitement.
Jerome stood tall, his face glowing with unmistakable pride. With a smug air, he gripped the rod tightly."Watch this! I'll land it… with just one pull!"
A faint aura shimmered around his hand. He focused his Mana, channeling the energy into his palm, boosting his strength beyond that of a normal human.
With one confident pull, a large fish leaped out of the water, glinting in the sunlight, before landing with a wet plak! On the ground.
"See? Pretty cool, huh?" Jerome thumped his chest, puffing it out like a village hero.
But Adrian, standing beside him, narrowed his eyes."You just used Body Aura in your hand, Jerome. Isn't that… cheating?" he said flatly, though a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"That's cheating! Big brother Jerome used magic!" shouted the other children in protest, demanding justice. The scene quickly turned chaotic with cries of "cheater! cheater!"
Jerome, overwhelmed, could only raise his hands in surrender."Alright, alright! I admit it, I cheated! But that's just because I'm too awesome, right?" he said with a nervous laugh.
"Get him!" Adrian shouted like a battle cry.
Without hesitation, the children swarmed Jerome. His large frame toppled instantly under the weight of the little arms piling onto him.
"Ow! Stop—hey! You guys are heavy, you know?!" Jerome's voice came muffled from beneath the pile, but no one listened. All that remained was roaring laughter.
Adrian laughed too. It was a genuine, unrestrained laugh—full of life.
But the laughter gradually faded from his lips when his eyes caught sight of someone. A little girl sat alone, not far from them, behind a low bush at the river's edge. Her long black hair fluttered gently in the wind. Her face—cold, expressionless. Her eyes watched them from afar... not with envy, but with a kind of emotional distance that hurt to see.
Adrian squinted. 'That girl... she looks like she's from the orphanage too.'
Jerome noticed the change in Adrian's expression and followed his gaze toward the girl.
"You know her?" Adrian asked, eyes still fixed on the girl.
"Of course. Her name was Shelly," Jerome replied. His voice lowered, no longer playful. "She's... hard to approach. Ever since she came to the orphanage, she hasn't spoken to anyone. Not even me."
"Why?"
Jerome let out a long sigh. "She watched both of her parents get murdered by a robber. Right in front of her. Since then, she's closed herself off. She... hasn't found her new family yet, not like the others have."
Adrian said nothing. His eyes remained locked on Shelly. There was something in her gaze. A wound so deep it had frozen her entire world.
"You might be able to get through to her, Adrian. Use that mysterious charm of yours or whatever," Jerome teased, trying to lift the mood.
"Watch your mouth, or I'll drown you in the river," Adrian shot back with a half-smile.
Without another word, Adrian slowly stepped away from the lively group and made his way toward the girl. Shelly noticed him. But she didn't turn. Didn't greet him. Didn't speak.
"Not joining the others?" Adrian asked in a calm, even tone. He sat down beside her, legs stretched out in front, close enough to be friendly, but far enough to respect her space.
Shelly turned slightly toward him. Her face showed no surprise, but in her eyes—there was a fleeting flicker of confusion.
"Playing is just their way… of forgetting the past. I won't forget. I won't become like them," she said coldly, her voice almost like the night mist.
Adrian didn't reply. Instead, he looked up at the sky and leaned back on his hands, supporting himself casually.
"In that case... I won't play either," he said lightly, like a breeze drifting through the leaves.
Shelly turned toward him quickly. "What?" her tone slightly raised in disbelief.
"I'll sit here too. Enjoy the view. If you don't want to play, that's fine. Let's just enjoy the sunset together."
Shelly stared at him. Her eyes narrowed, as if trying to read the true intention behind Adrian's face. Her cheeks flushed slightly—whether in anger or confusion, it was hard to tell.
"Fine! I don't care!" she huffed, turning her face away again.
Adrian stifled a grin. In his mind, he murmured, 'Good grief… she's like a walking refrigerator.'
They sat in silence, letting time drift by like a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. The evening light gradually wrapped the banks of the Sanbrough River, gilding the world in a warm, peaceful golden hue. The laughter of children rang out in the distance, filling the air with life and hope. But on the other side of the riverbank, two figures sat quietly—not speaking, but not voiceless either.
Adrian stole a glance at the little girl beside him. Her face was partially hidden behind long black hair that fell like a curtain. Her gaze was empty, yet within that emptiness, unspoken things lay buried: pain, longing, and a thick wall built from the fear of losing.
At last, Shelly spoke—softly, almost like a whisper lost in the wind. "Why can they laugh so happily...? Even though they've all lost their families…"
Adrian turned slowly, not wanting to startle her. Her voice was faint, as if drawn from a heart that had been holding back its burden for far too long. He could feel it—that pain was real.
He simply smiled gently. "Because they've found a new family. A new home."
Shelly turned slightly, her expression somber but curious. "Your answer... is just like Sister Nellie's."
Adrian let out a small, awkward laugh. "Eh—really? I thought that was my original idea."
Silence returned to the air, until Shelly spoke again—this time, her voice tinged with bitterness. "How can they find a new family so easily? Isn't family... sacred? You can't just replace it…"
Adrian looked away. His eyes settled on the children still playing with Jerome, their laughter echoing under the twilight sky. He drew in a deep breath. "Honestly… it wasn't easy. At first, they resisted it too. They were angry, they cried, they felt alone."
Shelly looked at him—for the first time—with sincere interest. "How do you know?"
Adrian held his breath a moment. Memories from his former life on Earth flashed through his mind, like an old film reel replaying in fragments. "Because I've felt it too," he replied quietly.
Shelly fell silent. "You... lived in an orphanage too?"
Adrian caught himself. He'd nearly revealed something he shouldn't in this world. But he quickly adapted. "N-no… but I've also lost my parents. So I... understand how it feels."
"You... lost your parents?" Shelly's voice softened, more fragile now.
Adrian smiled. This time, he allowed himself to share a piece of Adrian Nightwork's story—a tale woven from both truth and fiction.
"I never knew my father. My mother told me he died when I was just a baby. She raised me alone, with my uncle. But... she fell ill. And her condition worsened day by day. Before she passed, she left me with one message I could never forget."
Shelly looked at him, and for the first time, her eyes were no longer empty.
"What message?"
Adrian looked up at the sky as if reading the words straight from the golden dusk. '"Don't give up on hope, and keep going. I'll always be watching over you… and wishing the best for you."'
His voice was gentle, but the words resonated deeply—planted in his heart like a protective charm. A mantra for both Adrian Nightwork... and the boy he once was.
He turned to Shelly and smiled—genuinely."We're not supposed to forget the past. But... we're not meant to live in it either. Maybe your parents... would want you to laugh again. To be happy again. To find a new family—like before."
Shelly froze. She looked down, hiding her face behind trembling strands of her long hair.
"But... how am I supposed to do that...?" her voice quivered, like someone holding back tears for years.
Adrian touched the ground lightly with his fingertip. "By opening your eyes... and looking forward."
Shelly slowly turned. For the first time since they met, she truly looked.
The children—laughing without pretense. Jerome—falling into the mud, still laughing. The sunset—bathing everything in its warm, orange light. All of it looked so full of life—so beautiful.
And somehow... for the first time, her eyes could see that beauty.
She didn't speak. A single tear fell slowly, rolling down her cheek before she even realized it. Her hands clutched the fabric of her shirt tightly, trying to hold back the surge of emotion that suddenly overflowed.
"I... I don't know why... but..." her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, "the sunset... it's so beautiful..."
Adrian smiled—warm and calm."That's because you just opened the window to your heart."
Shelly looked at Adrian. And she said nothing. She simply gazed at his smile—a smile that didn't demand anything, didn't force anything, but simply... was there.
"You have a new family waiting for you, Shelly."
And for the first time in a very long while, Shelly no longer felt alone.