7. Home sweet Home

Time Skip

9 years went by.

Elliot is now 15.

Liam is 14.

Aslan is 19.

Eric is 16.

The villagers had quickly grown fond of the two lost children who had come to them under the most unusual circumstances.

Elliot, with his pale, jewel-like eyes and soft, gentle nature, seemed to capture the hearts of everyone he met.

His smile was infectious, and his kindness knew no bounds.

The villagers often found themselves offering him small tokens of appreciation—flowers, freshly baked bread, or hand-carved trinkets.

Elliot would always offer a bright, radiant smile, his white-blonde hair catching the sunlight and casting a glow around him.

Liam, while somewhat difficult at times, had become inseparable from his older companion.

His sharp tongue and hot-headed nature would often clash with the villagers, but when Elliot was near, the boy’s demeanor softened.

In private moments, when no one was watching, Liam would often look at Elliot with something resembling admiration.

He had developed a subtle crush on the boy, and Elliot, ever so patient, would often pull Liam aside and speak softly to him, easing his anxieties.

One afternoon, while the villagers were busy with their daily chores, Elliot and Liam sat by the side of a bubbling creek.

Liam, ever the stubborn one, was frowning, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

He had just argued with Eric, the guy he had to take his lessons with, but Elliot, as always, knew just how to bring the boy back from the brink of anger.

"You're not a bad person, Liam, noone is." Elliot said softly, his voice like a gentle breeze.

"You just need to learn how to listen more."

Liam grunted, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to relax under Elliot’s gaze.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lowered his arms, glancing up at the boy who had been his steady anchor for who knows how long for.

"Why are you always so calm?" Liam asked, his voice thick with confusion. "No one else is like you."

Elliot’s gaze softened as he reached out, placing a hand on Liam’s head.

"Because I know that everyone has a reason for what they do. You just have to see things from their perspective."

Liam looked at him, his own emotions swirling. It was hard to stay angry when Elliot spoke like that.

He couldn't explain it, but Elliot always made him feel better, even when he was at his worst.

Meanwhile, in another part of the village, Eric—who had quickly become a close companion of Elliot’s despite his rebellious nature—was running through the trees, his laughter echoing through the woods. He was a free spirit, always darting from one place to the next, never really staying in one spot for long. His energy was boundless, and while he didn’t always listen to instructions, he was endlessly curious about the world around him.

After Liam left do to, what had to be done, Elliot, ever patient, sat under a large oak tree, holding a few fallen leaves in his hand.

As Eric approached, Elliot gave him a knowing look and smiled.

"Do you want to see something fun?" Elliot asked, his voice gentle but inviting.

Eric stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with interest. "What is it?"

With a soft chuckle, Elliot leaned forward, arranging the leaves into a small circle. He cupped his hands around the edges and, with a slight hum, the leaves began to vibrate.

A soft, melodic tune echoed through the air.

The leaves didn’t just rustle—they danced in the air, creating a sound like a distant flute.

Eric’s eyes grew wide in amazement. "How did you do that?!"

Elliot smiled, proud of his small trick. "I just listen to the world around me. Nature has its own music, you just have to know how to hear it."

Eric laughed and clapped, delighted by the magic of the moment.

His earlier defiance faded away as he, too, became captivated by the music that Elliot had summoned from the natural world.

Despite his usual impatience, Eric couldn’t help but be drawn to Elliot’s calm demeanor and quiet charm.

Even though they were close in age, Elliot always had a way of making him feel like he was being cared for in a way that no one else could provide.

Next to Elliot, Eric always felt like a little immature child.

Later that week, Elliot found himself surrounded by a small group of children in the village, all eager to learn from the boy who had healed them, taught them, and guided them through their days with gentle wisdom.

Elliot had begun teaching the younger children how to heal small wounds with bandages. It was Important to know this from a very early age on, as accidents happen all the time.

His lessons were soft, filled with the kindness that poured from his heart, and it didn’t take long for the village to recognize that Elliot was more than just a survivor—he was a gift.

It was here that Aslan, the older hidden prince, watched from the shadows.

Aslan was a force of nature, an imposing figure even at his young age.

His muscles rippled under his shirt, and his strength was unmatched.

The villagers spoke of him with quiet reverence, though they were careful not to approach him too closely. He was the silent guardian of the village, and though he rarely showed emotion, it was clear that he cared deeply for Elliot, in his own reserved way.

One afternoon, Aslan stood at the edge of the clearing, watching as Elliot knelt beside a group of children. Elliot’s voice was soft as he taught them how to properly tend to a wound, and his eyes glowed with a quiet intensity that made him seem almost... otherworldly.

Aslan’s gaze lingered on the boy, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something stir inside him—a protective instinct he hadn’t felt in years. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about Elliot that made Aslan feel like he should protect him, even if that meant staying in the background, watching from afar.

Aslan didn’t speak, his face an unreadable mask, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy who seemed to draw others to him effortlessly.

Days passed, and the village settled into a quiet rhythm.

Aslan leading the group of warriors.

Elliot teaching the children of the village.

Eric taking Lessons with Liam, but mostly skipping all of them, because they were so "boring".

Yet, one evening, Liam slipped away from his lessons.

His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and, feeling restless, he ventured out of the village and toward the distant mountains.

The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth as Liam walked through the trees, the sun sinking lower on the horizon.

His feet carried him toward a narrow path, one that led to a hidden cave beneath a waterfall.

He had heard rumors of the cave, and something about it tugged at his mind.

As he ventured deeper into the cave, Liam’s heart began to race. The tunnel was damp and cold, and the sound of rushing water echoed in the distance. He took a few steps forward, his curiosity urging him on.

But as he climbed the narrow stairs that led upward, a sudden pain shot through his head—a sharp, searing headache that left him dizzy and disoriented.

Liam stumbled back, clutching his head in confusion.

The memories—the ones that had been lost—flickered behind his eyes.

Faces, names, flashes of a life he couldn’t quite remember.

He could feel the weight of the past pressing down on him, but before he could make sense of it, the pain stopped as abruptly as it had started.

Shaken, Liam turned around and hurried back down the path, the tunnel behind him growing darker with each step. The momentary pain had been enough to unsettle him, but when he returned to the village, he pushed it aside.

There was nothing more to find in the cave... or so he thought.

But as Liam rejoined the others, the mysterious memory—those flashes of the past—lingered in the back of his mind, leaving him with more questions than answers.

_____