E I G H T E E N

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"The two brothers were sent
to recapture the spy,
and after much searching,
they finally found a lead."

・ ・ ・

When Slayen was five, his father gave him a necklace. It had a cable-style chain that was made of gold, like the clasp at the end of the chain and the bail that was connected to the pendant that hung from the middle. The pendant itself, lined with more smooth gold, held a gem— a brilliant ruby, carved into the shape of a simple flame. At the back of the pendant was a tiny pair of gold swords crossing over each other, the blunted blades and hilts sticking out from the sides.

Slayen remembered being quite astounded when he first saw it. The necklace was a beautiful creation that shimmered, ethereal red, in the light. A gorgeous accessory that had been passed down his family since it was made during the time of his great-great-grandfather.

An heirloom.

All real, his father told him back then. The gold, the ruby, they were all real. Authentic. True. Although expensive, it was worth it for such a marvellous work of art.

He remembered asking his father about the shape of the pendant. Why a flame? Why the swords? Why not a flower, like the red ones that grew in their secret backyard? Or a simple figure, like a circle or a square?

His father had smiled at him— a striking smile that Slayen could still remember, with much vividness, to this very day. Even though his lips had curved upwards, his brows had lifted and furrowed together, forming crease lines on his forehead. Even though his eyes had arched and seemed so kind, there had been a profound sorrow in their depths that hid secrets never to be told.

It had left Slayen with a strange feeling in his chest, and he never understood why.

His father explained to him, then, what the pendant represented. The flame with two swords crossed behind it was a symbol. The symbol of their family.

The symbol of the Eltros.

It was an insignia scorned by the kingdom, an insignia that had lost its original value and prestige and had fallen into disgusting infamy. But to them, to his family, it was a symbol of hope. Blind, pure hope.

The necklace had then been clasped around his neck, and Slayen had gazed at the little pendant, admiring its rich intricacy and details. A childish wonder, being the five-year-old he was back then. His father had pulled him into a light embrace after that, patting his head and whispering words into his ears.

The importance of the necklace and the meaning it held.

The importance of saving their dying family.

The importance of moving on.

"Do not forget. You must never forget."

And Slayen never did.

When his father was killed and he and his mother had to escape, Slayen had brought the necklace with him. As a memento of his dear, dear father who had died, betrayed by his own beliefs. As a reminder that the kingdom and its people had long since forsaken his family, that their 'hope' was nothing but a false sense of security.

So when they took shelter in their secret backyard and, amidst the red flowers, erected a wooden cross there to act as a gravestone, he buried the necklace alongside his father's wishes. It had only been the right thing to do, after the events that had happened. The best thing to do.

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