Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

Episode 61: We Are Legends

Virumi's mind spiraled, unable to latch onto a coherent thought. Malaes' words had landed heavy on her, unraveling layers of doubt she had never confronted before. Her eyes stared vacantly into the crackling fire, as if its chaotic dance held some answer she was too lost to find. The storm outside, once ferocious, had begun to subside, its raging winds giving way to an eerie stillness, yet the turmoil inside her raged on.

Malaes' voice cut through the tension again, steady but soft, laced with a sincerity that was undeniable. "See, there are so many things you don't know," she said, her tone careful not to press too hard. "We always think whatever we do is the right thing without considering other possibilities—without understanding the consequences of our half-knowledge." Malaes' gaze was sharp but compassionate, holding Virumi's fractured mind in place like a steady hand catching someone on the edge of collapse. "But your motives weren't wrong, Virumi. So, trust us when we say this—freedom isn't hopeless."

Malaes' words hung in the air, weighty yet gentle, like a long-forgotten truth being pulled from the depths. "Tell us where you want to go. You have two options—and in both, we're going to stay with you. You won't be alone. So, what's it going to be?" She leaned in, her voice a quiet command, "To the sea? Or back home?"

Virumi squeezed her eyes shut, her brow knitting in frustration. It was as though the question itself had set off a storm within her, fiercer than the one outside. Her clenched fist pounded against her forehead, each hit a desperate attempt to force her mind into clarity, to pull an answer from the tangled mess of thoughts that threatened to break her. She gritted her teeth, pain twisting her features, and for a moment, the fire's crackling seemed louder, filling the suffocating silence that had fallen between them.

As she wrestled with her indecision, Yesdar's voice cut in, calm but undeniably firm. "Freedom isn't hopeless because hope is the first step toward freedom." His words, though soft, carried the weight of someone who had lived through enough battles to understand their deeper truths.

Virumi's clenched brow began to soften, her fists loosening ever so slightly as she turned to listen. Yesdar's tone was righteous but not overbearing. His eyes locked with hers, holding her in place as he continued. "Our teacher used to say, common sense shouldn't need reminding. From the worst things to the best things, our ancestors have known it all—something they called wisdom. And now that wisdom isn't just some motivational phrase passed around to depressed souls. It's something everyone should know as life."

His eyes burned with a quiet intensity, the firelight flickering in them as he leaned forward slightly. "You don't need someone to pull you out of the darkness every time you fall, Virumi. That's what wisdom teaches us—how to pull ourselves out."

Virumi's eyes reflected back the same fire, something stirring inside her, a deep recognition of what he was saying, though she couldn't yet grasp its full meaning.

Yesdar's voice softened, but it didn't lose its edge. "And today, I understand that better than ever."

He smiled then, not a broad, boastful grin, but the kind of smile born from the satisfaction of knowing a hard truth. His eyes, brimming with both kindness and determination, locked with Virumi's, and for the first time since their conversation began, she didn't look away. She held his gaze.

"In simple words..." Griswa's calm voice cut in, his tone as effortless as the flow of a river, but carrying a depth that couldn't be ignored. Virumi's attention snapped to him, her senses drawn to the weight of what he was about to say.

"What Yesdar means is this: Do I need to remind you—'Never give up'? Do I need to remind you—'Believe in yourself'? Do I need to remind you—'Never lose hope'? Do I need to remind you—'You can do it'?"