Eternal Echoes: The Story of Aelios and Adrian - 4. Chapter 4: Forgotten Memories of Argos

As sleep took me, my thoughts lingered on Aelios’s pained face. The weight of his suffering was immense, and I couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve such a burden. My heart ached for him, wishing I could take away all his pain and anguish. Aelios... please let me in... I can help you, I whispered to myself, hoping my silent plea might somehow reach him.

Gradually, my thoughts drifted from consciousness into the realm of dreams. This dream felt different from the others. I was pulled through a swirling vortex of shadows and chaos, only to land softly on a field of grass.

I glanced around and realized I was no longer in America. The night was deep, and the landscape before me was devastated—bodies scattered across the ground, the stench of death thick in the air. Distant cries for help echoed through the darkness. Had I been transported to the middle of a battleground?

As I moved forward, the clashing of metal reached my ears from the direction of a nearby castle. Approaching closer, I saw flashes and sparks illuminating two figures locked in mortal combat. The combatants briefly disengaged and faced each other.

One figure was an older man, around thirty years old. His piercing red eyes, sleek black hair slicked back, and skin as pale as the moonlight gave him a haunting presence. His armor, black as night, was sleek and skeletal, emphasizing his speed and agility. Large, imposing shoulder pauldrons flared out with spikes, while his gauntlets and greaves were reinforced with razor-sharp claws and metal-tipped toes. A dark, tattered cloak flowed around him like shadows as he held his sword at the ready, staring down his opponent.

The other figure, though smaller, radiated a familiar aura. He appeared to be around thirteen—the same age as Aelios. As I moved closer, my eyes widened in shock. Standing before me was a serious, angry Aelios. His once kind face was now replaced with the steely gaze of a warrior. His armor was streamlined and sleek, as black as the night, complemented by a long dark cloak woven from shadows.

My sweet Aelios looked so different in this dream—more focused, more aggressive than I was accustomed to. His hair was longer, tied back in a ponytail. In his hand, he wielded a dark, long sword that pulsated with hidden energy.

The tension in the air was palpable as the two figures stared each other down. Above them, a thunderstorm brewed, raindrops beginning to fall.

“How many must fall, Master, before you realize your dreams of domination and control are futile?” Aelios demanded, his voice filled with anger.

The older man grinned with an air of superiority. Unfazed, Aelios continued, his voice shaking with barely contained fury, “You took my parents from me... and blamed it on your enemies. I trusted you, and you lied to me. How could you do that?”

“They all played their part in my plans, young one, and I care little for them,” the older man replied, his smile wicked and cold. “Your parents, my enemies—none of it matters in the grand scheme.”

Aelios’s eyes burned with rage. “You manipulated me... turned me into a weapon against those who weren’t even responsible. I will never forgive you.”

Without warning, Aelios attacked with blinding speed, so fast I could barely follow. His sword clashed with his former master’s in a fury I had never seen before. This wasn’t the Aelios I knew—the quiet, gentle boy who smiled shyly at me. No, this was someone else, someone shaped by rage and loss. My heart pounded as I watched, the weight of his suffering pressing against me like a storm. I wanted to reach out, to stop him, but I was frozen—just an observer in the chaos of his pain.

Just as the intensity of their battle reached its peak, I felt the pull of consciousness dragging me away. I awoke in my bed, the clock reading 4 a.m., my heart racing from the vivid dream. My breath came in quick gasps as I tried to piece together what I had just witnessed. Why was Aelios in that armor? Why was he fighting? And who was that man? Aelios’s parents… no wonder that his memories are all foggy. He wants to forget, maybe… It was too painful for him to relive the scene again. The better question is how old is Aelios? He looks the same in my dream as he does in reality. Was it really a dream, or was it a hidden past manifesting itself to me?

While contemplating the meaning of the dream, I felt a strange warmth from my chest. Looking down, I realized the pendant was glowing slightly, emitting a strange but beautiful silver light.

“Was that you... Aelios?” I whispered lovingly to the pendant, clasping it in my hand. Was Aelios sending me these dreams, or was it something else entirely?

At school, whispers of more murders and disappearances were spreading. The situation had grown so dire that the town police department had stationed officers near the school entrances. This news brought a new wave of fear within me, especially as I recalled the injury Aelios had sustained the previous night. What is happening to this town? What’s with all these dreams, and why do I feel it all connects to Aelios?

Ethan tried his best to distract me, but it didn’t work. My mind kept returning to the dream as I sketched in my notebook—Aelios in his armor, sword in hand, his eyes cold and steely, a warrior on a mission. Such a contrast to the Aelios I know—quiet, melancholic, yet kind and loving. Who was that man in my dream, the one whose very presence filled me with dread? Those cold, crimson eyes... so much vile evil. How could he be Aelios’s master?

“Earth to Adrian... dude, you’re spacing out again.” Ethan shook me gently.

“Huh? What? Oh... Ethan, sorry about that. Just been thinking about stuff, you know...” I smiled, trying to reassure him.

“More like your mind is occupied with your knight in shining armor,” Ethan teased with a chuckle, pointing at my drawing.

My face burned with embarrassment, and I quickly covered the sketch from Ethan’s prying eyes.

“Oh come on, dude. I’ve seen how you look at him and I think it’s adorable.” Ethan grinned at me playfully.

“Was I that obvious…?” I groaned in embarrassment. Was I that lovesick that even by drawing him, I was distracted by his beauty and nature?

“Pretty much, man. But what’s with the medieval get-up?” Ethan asked, confused at my choice of armor in the sketch.

“It came to me in my dreams…” I replied shyly, and Ethan, with a smile, ruffled my hair again. *Dammit, I want Aelios to do that!*

“This Aelios must have made a great impression. I think he’s a good guy judging by how he looks at you too,” Ethan stated calmly.

“What do you mean, how he looks at me?” I asked curiously.

“I mean while you two were making lovey-dovey gazes, Aelios seemed lost in your eyes until you pointed out his injury. That reminds me… what do you think happened before he came to your house?”

My mind went blank for a moment as I realized I hadn’t asked him about that. What did happen before he checked up on me? The wound seemed too deep to be a scratch or a cut… Was he attacked?

“I don’t… know. I could ask him if I see him again,” I replied quietly as my mind raced with imaginative scenarios of what truly happened. Could Aelios have fought off whoever was terrorizing the town?

My day at school went by in a blur, my mind buzzing with questions I could not shake. The book about Argos... That’s it. I must read it—it might hold the key to understanding Aelios. I looked at the clock on top of the blackboard and sighed. It was only 2 p.m. With a look of grim determination, I decided to do what I must to solve the nagging questions in my mind. I raised my hand, catching not only my teacher’s attention but Ethan’s as well, who looked at me weirdly.

“Excuse me, miss. I don’t feel so good—may I go out, please?” I asked, hoping the teacher would buy it, and funny enough, she did. I rushed out as quickly as possible, heading to the Oakridge Public Library. Finally, my answers would come to me!

“Adrian, wait up!” I heard Ethan yell from behind me. Damn, he should’ve stayed!

“Ethan… what… are you doing?” I panted, out of breath, while Ethan looked so calm. Man, his athletics are working so well for him. Note to self: join a sports team.

“The teacher told me… to escort you to the nurse’s office… but it seems you have other plans…” Ethan grinned devilishly at how I was breaking the rules for the first time.

I simply grinned back, and when we were outside school, we decided to walk instead, not to draw attention to ourselves. I explained why I was skipping class, making an excuse about wanting to read what Aelios had told me.

“Your face is turning red when you mention his name, dude,” Ethan chuckled while I swatted his shoulder lightly, my face feeling the heat of embarrassment.

After gently smacking Ethan all the way to the library, we came to the Oakridge Public Library. Built in the early 20th century, the building had a mix of neoclassical and gothic architectural elements. The exterior was constructed with weathered stone, giving it an air of timelessness, with ivy creeping up the walls, adding to its aged charm. Tall arched windows lined the façade, casting soft, muted light into the interior during the day.

We entered, and the scent of old books and polished wood immediately hit us, a comforting scent for me, to be honest. The floors were made of dark creaky hardwood, with thick, ornate rugs scattered about. The ceilings were high, supported by dark wood beams, and dotted with wrought iron chandeliers that cast a warm glow.

The main reading room was a grand, open space filled with sturdy wooden tables and leather armchairs, perfect for settling in with a good book. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, filled with a vast collection of books that ranged from ancient tomes to the latest bestsellers. A spiral staircase at the back of the room led to a mezzanine level, where even more books were stored, accessible only by sliding ladders that creaked softly as they moved along the shelves.

In one corner, there was a dedicated area for rare and historical texts, housed behind glass cases and accessible only with permission from the librarian. This section felt particularly sacred, with dimmer lighting and a sense of reverence that encouraged whispers rather than normal conversation.

The library’s heart was the massive, intricately carved wooden desk where the librarian sat, surrounded by stacks of returned books and a computer that seemed out of place among the antiquated décor. Behind the desk was a wall covered in old portraits of past librarians and founders, their serious gazes watching over the library as if ensuring that its knowledge was treated with respect.

In contrast to its ancient aura, the library had a modern wing, though it was carefully designed to blend with the original structure. Here, there were more contemporary comforts, like computer stations and a small café where patrons could enjoy a coffee while reading.

Me and Ethan looked around and admired the beautiful architecture that surrounded us.

“Wow… remind me to study here for a change,” Ethan whistled.

“Hmmmm, becoming a nerd, I see,” I joked, making Ethan slap my shoulder playfully, and we searched for the librarian, who seemed to be busy knitting.

She looked to be in her late 50s and had an authoritative aura about her, which made us both nervous. She was sitting down at her desk, seemingly oblivious to our approach.

“Ahem, excuse me, miss, can you… help us with something?” I asked with both excitement and nervousness. Today is the day I will fully understand Aelios, and it's making me nervous inside.

The librarian, finally noticing us, looked up from her knitting, her sharp eyes peering at us over the rims of her glasses. She gazed up and down at us, checking to see if we were hooligans trying to annoy her. After a moment of scrutiny, she sighed and set her knitting aside.

“What is it you’re looking for, young man?” the librarian asked, her voice calm yet firm.

“We’re searching for a book… umm, about Greece and Argos,” I replied nervously, still unsure of the specifics Aelios hadn’t shared.

“Argos? The ancient Greek city?” the librarian asked with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

“Yes… yes, I think that’s the one!” I excitedly responded, hoping I’d guessed right.

“Interesting. I’ve never met two boys interested in ancient Greek history, especially about Argos. Kids your age seldom read, but there are always exceptions to the rule,” the librarian said, standing up.

I was about to protest—I’m an avid reader, after all, and her comment irked me slightly—but before I could voice my feelings, Ethan’s sharp elbow jab made me think twice before causing trouble.

“Follow me, boys. It’s in the back. Careful—it’s quite dark in some places, and please handle the books carefully; they’re quite old.” The librarian chuckled as she led us to the far end of the library. After ensuring we were settled, she left us to our search.

After several minutes of searching, a particular leather-bound book caught my eye. Its dark brown cover bore the same crescent moon symbol as the pendant Aelios had given me. I carefully picked it up and showed it to Ethan.

“I think I found something!” I said in a hushed but excited voice.

“Dude, it’s like your pendant. Did Aelios give that to you?” Ethan grinned knowingly while my face felt hot with embarrassment as I scolded him.

We eagerly opened the yellowed pages, handling them with care. The first page intrigued us.

To my silver moon: May the gods forever shine upon you with blessings. Someday we will unite once more, and the darkness will never take you away from me again.

Love, Lysander of Sparta

We stared at the page intently. Whoever this Lysander was, he was clearly connected to Aelios somehow. The crescent moon symbol on the cover looked eerily similar to my pendant.

We turned the page and found an entry about Lysander’s travels to Argos, along with a note from the translator.

*Note to the reader: The passages here are estimated to be from around 1250 BCE. My colleagues and I have worked diligently to translate and recreate each entry by Lysander of Sparta. —Dr. Alexandra Dimitriou.

During my 12th year, my father, a prominent Spartan warrior and general, requested my trainers to allow me to accompany him on a diplomatic mission to the city-state of Argos. Tensions between the Greek states had been high lately, and Sparta needed a buffer in case war broke out. Argos, being Sparta’s closest and strongest rival, was an obvious choice.

It took days for me, my father, and several delegates from Sparta to arrive in Argos. We arrived during spring, the air fresh with the scent of flowers and fertile land. The city was vibrant and teeming with life—a sharp contrast to the austerity of Sparta. Children my age laughed and played in the streets, and the agora buzzed with activity. The towering white marble pillars of the Temple of Hera gleamed under the sun, garlands of flowers draping from every corner.

The ceremony atop the temple steps was what captured my attention the most. Among the gathered youth, one figure stood out—a boy, younger than most, but commanding in presence. His dark hair was braided, and a wreath of olive leaves crowned his head. He wore a deep indigo robe, signifying his special role in the ritual. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him.

As he raised a silver chalice in offering to Hera, he moved with such grace that I felt as though time slowed. His voice, soft yet filled with power, chanted prayers in a language I could barely understand. When his eyes met mine from atop the steps, I felt a strange sensation stir within me. My heart fluttered—a feeling that was alien to me, something I had never experienced in Sparta.

When the ceremony ended, I followed my father to the Great Hall of Argos. We were introduced to the Argive leadership, including the high priest. And then, the boy from the ceremony appeared before me. He smiled at me, his sun-kissed skin turning pink with a soft blush. His name was Aelios.

As I finished reading that passage, I slammed the book shut, startling Ethan, who had been quietly scanning nearby shelves.

“Dude, what the hell?” Ethan hissed in shock.

“Sorry, I just… saw a bug,” I muttered, my heart racing from the revelation.

“No, you saw something, Adrian. What was it?” Ethan pressed, giving me a suspicious look.

“It’s nothing… Just let it go,” I pleaded, trying to hide my emotions.

Ethan sighed. “Fine. Let’s keep looking.”

I tried to refocus, but my thoughts were spinning. Aelios... the boy from the ceremony... what happened to you?

I continued skimming through the book, searching for more clues. Every entry seemed to pull me deeper into Aelios’s past. After the initial meeting, there were pages filled with accounts of their friendship—how Lysander and Aelios spent time together, exploring Argos, bonding over shared experiences, and, eventually, falling in love.

When the negotiations concluded, wine was brought out to celebrate, but Aelios slipped out of the hall unnoticed. Curious, I followed. Just as I stepped outside, he caught my hand and leaned in to whisper.

"You looked so bored, Spartan... so I told my father and yours that I’d show you around the city," he said with a light, mischievous giggle.

An unusual sensation stirred in my stomach, and heat rushed to my face as he pulled me along to explore the city.

We wandered behind the Temple of Hera, where a small garden lay in quiet solitude. Aelios tried to tickle me as I sat on the soft, warm ground. We wrestled, laughing, completely lost in the moment. His laughter was a melody to my ears. In the end, I pinned him down, sitting triumphantly on top of him. Both of us were panting, our faces flushed, our breaths synchronized as we gazed into each other’s eyes.

"Lysander... I'm so glad to have met you. The gods have truly blessed me," Aelios panted, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

"I'm glad too..." I replied, breathless. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him softly. He made me feel alive. His eyes widened in surprise but soon softened as he returned the kiss.

I shut the book once more, my mind swirling with jealousy and confusion. The Aelios I know is quiet, seldom smiles unless it’s at me, and carries the weight of someone much older. But the Aelios that Lysander knew? He was carefree, full of joy and laughter, so different from the boy I’ve grown to care for.

I opened the book again, flipping through the pages quickly, trying to find more answers. What happened to you, Aelios? Why are you so different now?

Soon, I came across another entry

Aelios has been writing about a strange man who has been visiting their family home lately. According to Aelios, he has been teaching him philosophy, science, and some strange form of magic. Just from Aelios’s description, I don’t trust him at all. He calls himself Theron.

When I traveled to Argos again to visit Aelios, we spent our time by the rivers of Argos and played discus. As the sun began to set, I taught Aelios some wrestling moves to help protect himself from danger. I admit, seeing his lean and athletic body stirred something in me. He giggled when we wrestled, his joy infectious.

But as we laughed and rolled in the grass, I heard a voice behind me—a man’s voice, cold and calculated.*

"Aelios looks magnificent tonight, doesn’t he?"

I spun around to see a towering figure, his black hair falling in waves to his shoulders, and his eyes—a strange honey gold color. His voice dripped with elegance, and there was something in his gaze that screamed danger.

I didn’t like the way he looked at Aelios, as if he were something to be admired, something to be possessed.

“Theron,” Aelios said softly, “This is Lysander—the Spartan I’ve told you about.”

Theron barely acknowledged me, giving me the briefest nod before turning his gaze back to Aelios. “You’re truly blessed, young one,” Theron said, his voice laced with a strange affection. “Your potential is limitless.” He gently touched Aelios’s chin, making my blood boil with anger.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and pulled Aelios closer to me, glaring at Theron. The man’s smile didn’t waver, but I could sense the shift in his demeanor. He was dangerous, and I knew it. He was a snake, and I knew then that he was no good for Aelios.

I read on, flipping through page after page, until I found the final entry. My heart sank as I read it.

Aelios has been seeing Theron more and more. I’ve warned him repeatedly about this man, but my words fall on deaf ears. He doesn’t listen anymore. We argue constantly, and each fight ends with Aelios in tears. It breaks my heart to see him this way.

The last few days before his 14th birthday, Aelios grew quieter, more distant, and troubled. One night, behind the Temple of Hera, he confided in me that he had been having nightmares—visions of me and his parents dying. Theron had told him that he could help, that he would meet him outside the city.

I begged him not to go. I could feel it in my bones—something was terribly wrong. But Aelios, in his frustration, told me that Theron warned him about me, that I was holding him back.

In my anger, I said words I can never take back. I called him a childish fool for trusting a stranger over someone who genuinely loved him. He looked at me with such pain in his eyes, tears welling up as he pushed me away.

That was the last time I saw him.

His parents and I searched for him for days, but he was gone. Disappeared. It’s all my fault. I should have protected him. I should have stopped him.

I swear to the gods, Theron will pay. I will hunt him down for what he’s done. I will make him suffer.

I closed the book, my heart pounding. What happened to you, Aelios? I thought, feeling the weight of the centuries-old pain. What did Theron do to you?

Just then, Ethan came back, his expression a mixture of frustration and curiosity. “Dude, I think the library is closing…” he said, looking around at the darkening room.

I hadn’t noticed how quiet it had gotten until he pointed it out. The air was thick with an eerie silence, and a strange chill ran down my spine.

“Ethan… let’s get out of here. Something’s wrong,” I said quietly, feeling a deep sense of unease.

I grabbed Ethan’s hand, and we hurried towards the exit. It was strange—there was no reprimand from the librarian, no noise from the other patrons. Everything was silent. When we stepped outside, we realized the whole street was empty, and it was already dark.

The sound of whistling echoed behind us, and I froze. Ethan grabbed my arm, his grip tight. We turned around to see a large man swinging a baseball bat lazily in his hand, his eyes glowing with a strange honey gold color.

“Fresh meat,” the man grinned, his voice dripping with menace.

Five more figures appeared beside him, all of them teenagers with the same predatory smiles and flashing golden eyes. My heart raced as I realized that these men are not human, humans don’t move like that.

I grabbed Ethan’s hand again, and we bolted in the opposite direction, the vampires laughing and jeering as they gave chase. We ran as fast as we could through the dark streets, the sound of their footsteps unnervingly close behind us. My lungs burned, and my heart pounded in my chest as we rounded the corner, only to come face to face with two police cars.

Hope surged in me—until I saw the blood splattered across the windows. The metallic stench of it filled my nostrils, and Ethan screamed, his face pale with horror.

I staggered backward, the fear nearly paralyzing me. “What the hell is happening?” I whispered, my voice shaking as I turned to Ethan, who was in the midst of a full-blown panic.

“Adrian, what the fuck are we going to do?” Ethan’s voice cracked as he grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my skin. I knew we had no time—no time to think, no time to process.

“We have to keep moving,” I gasped, pulling Ethan with me. Those things were getting closer, their laughter growing louder. But as we ran through the darkened streets, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. My heart still pounded in my chest, but something deep within me told me that we weren’t alone.

And then I heard it—the low, menacing growl.

I skidded to a halt, turning just in time to see a massive, black wolf step into the light. Its fur was dark as midnight, streaked with silver along its powerful frame. The wolf was enormous—standing at least four feet at the shoulder, its muscles rippling beneath its sleek coat. Glowing crimson eyes locked onto the vampires with an intensity that made the air around us feel thick with menace.

Ethan stumbled back in shock, and I could feel his grip on my arm tighten as he muttered, “What the hell…”

These creatures faltered for a moment, eyes wide with fear and confusion. One of them hissed under his breath, “No way… that’s—”

Before those things could finish, a familiar voice cut through the darkness.

“Step away from them.”

The voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of power that sent shivers down my spine. I turned to see Aelios stepping out of the shadows, his expression unreadable. He looked regal and composed, but there was a darkness in his eyes—something dangerous.

He was dressed in a long, midnight-blue tailored coat that caught the faint light of the streetlamp, its silver embroidery gleaming in intricate patterns. The high collar of his dark silk shirt peeked from underneath, and his boots were polished to a gleam, giving him an air of elegance despite the situation. His cloak fluttered slightly in the night breeze, adding to his mysterious aura.

But more than his appearance, it was the energy that radiated from him that sent a wave of calm—and fear—through me.

The creatures visibly recoiled, their smug expressions replaced with something far more unsettling—fear. The leader, the large man who had taunted us earlier, gritted his teeth and snarled. “Who the hell are you?” His arrogance faltered, but he tried to maintain his bravado.

Aelios’s purple eyes glowed in the dim light, a flicker of emotion behind them. But his voice remained steady. “My name is Aelios of Argos. If you wish to survive, I suggest you leave now.”

The creatures exchanged uneasy glances, whispering to each other in disbelief. One of them muttered, “It can’t be… He’s supposed to be a myth…”

But the leader wasn’t having any of it. “A myth? This kid?” He barked out a laugh, though it lacked conviction. He swung the baseball bat lazily, pointing it at Aelios. “You’re just a child.”

In an instant, the air around Aelios changed. He took a step forward, his face darkening with an emotion I hadn’t seen before. “Last warning.”

The leader growled, clearly growing impatient. “Enough! He’s just another halflife! Get him!”

The creatures rushed forward as one, moving with inhuman speed. But Aelios was faster. In a blur of movement, he drew a small black blade from within his cloak and hurled it toward the leader. The blade sliced through the air, embedding itself deep into the creature’s forearm. Blood splattered onto the pavement as the man roared in pain, clutching his arm in shock.

The other creature of the night skidded to a halt, their fear now palpable.

“You dare—” the leader began, but before he could finish, Aelios was upon him. With a fluid, almost effortless motion, Aelios grabbed the vampire by the throat and lifted him off the ground as though he weighed nothing. The man struggled, his eyes wide with panic as he clawed at Aelios’s hand.

I stared, frozen, watching as Aelios’s eyes burned with an unearthly intensity. The Aelios I knew—the quiet, kind boy—was gone, replaced by something ancient and powerful. I could feel it in the air around him, the sheer force of his presence pressing down on everything like a heavy weight.

The creature's leader’s cries turned into choked gasps as Aelios’s grip tightened.

“I warned you,” Aelios said softly, his voice devoid of emotion. “You should have left.”

With one swift motion, Aelios ripped the vampire’s arm from its socket and threw it to the ground. Blood sprayed across the pavement, and the leader screamed in agony. The other creatures stood frozen, too terrified to move.

The leader’s body convulsed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Aelios watched him coldly for a moment before driving his hand into the man’s chest. I could barely comprehend what I was seeing as Aelios’s fingers wrapped around the vampire’s heart, and with a sickening squelch, he ripped it free.

The man crumpled to the ground, dead before he even hit the pavement.

Silence fell over the street, broken only by the sound of the other vampires scrambling backward in terror. “We— we didn’t know it was you!” one of them stammered, their bravado shattered.

Aelios turned his gaze toward them, his eyes still glowing with that terrifying light. “Go. Tell the others what happens when they cross me.”

The creatures didn’t need to be told twice. They turned and fled into the night, their footfalls fading into the distance.

Aelios stood there for a moment, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, before he finally turned back to me and Ethan. His expression softened as he looked at me, guilt clouding his eyes.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice quieter than before, filled with regret. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Adrian.”

I took a shaky breath, still trying to process everything I’d just seen. Aelios had saved us—killed for us. But at the same time, there was something deeply unsettling about the ease with which he had done it.

Before I could respond, Aelios looked down at his bloodstained hands. For a moment, he stared at them, and I could see the tremble in his fingers. His face tensed, a flicker of disgust passing over his features. The weight of what he had done seemed to sink in, and for a brief moment, he looked lost.

“Aelios…” I whispered, stepping toward him. I wanted to comfort him, to pull him out of whatever dark place he was sinking into. My own fear of him was still there, but it was overpowered by something else—concern. Concern for the boy who had just killed to protect me.

He looked up at me, his purple eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You saw what I did… You saw who I am…”

His voice broke, and my heart ached for him. Without thinking, I reached out and gently cupped his face in my hands. His skin was cold, but I didn’t pull away.

“I don’t care,” I whispered. “You saved us. That’s what matters.”

Aelios’s gaze softened, and I could see the conflict in his eyes—the fear, the guilt, the sadness. “I never wanted you to see this part of me. I never wanted you to see the monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” I said firmly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I don’t care what you are or what you’ve done. I just… I just want you to let me in. Let me see the real you, Aelios.”

For a long moment, he was silent. Then, slowly, he nodded, closing his eyes as he leaned into my touch. His shoulders sagged, the weight of centuries seemingly lifting just a little.

“I’m not Lysander,” I continued, my voice soft. “But I do love you, Aelios. And nothing about what you are will ever change that.”

Aelios opened his eyes, his lips trembling as he spoke, “Adrian, you’re… you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel this way. In all these years… I never thought I could find someone like you. Lysander is Lysander... I can't change the past... but Adrian... your you... your special in your own way and I do love you more than you can ever imagine."

I leaned in and kissed him softly, reassuring him with every touch. He returned the kiss, his hands gently cradling the back of my head. When we pulled apart, I smiled softly at him, brushing his hair away from his face.

“So… you’re not human, huh?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. He let out a soft laugh.

" Nope, just a vampire." Aelios chuckles at my attempt for a lighter mood.

" A vampire really?" I asked playfully

“Yes… an ancient one, at that,” he admitted, his tone still tinged with guilt.

I grinned playfully. “So how old are we talking here? Do I need to get you a wheelchair?”

Aelios blinked at me in confusion, his expression adorably innocent. “What’s a wheelchair?”

Ethan, who had finally recovered from the shock of the situation, groaned. “Oh my God, you’re dating a fossil.”

The tension broke, and we all laughed—quiet, shaky laughter, but it was enough to ease the weight of the moment. Aelios smiled at me, the sadness in his eyes fading just a little.

But even as the laughter faded, a part of me knew this wasn’t over. There were still questions to be answered. The murders in the town, the other vampires… they were connected to something bigger. And I had a feeling Aelios was at the center of it.

For now, though, I was just glad he was safe. And I was determined to stand by him, no matter what came next.