"A Flame that Fades"

Chapter 26: Breaking Walls

Azgar's POV

It had been a few days since my haircut. My hair was already growing back—thicker, healthier. Perks of warrior genes, I supposed. It never took long before dark curls framed my face again.

I was adjusting my wrist guards when Agnar's voice broke through the silence.

"Wow, look at you. You look..." He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

I smirked, brushing it off. "Yeah, yeah, don't get all sentimental on me now," I said, rolling my eyes.

But he didn't laugh.

"You remind me of Mom."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I froze.

Slowly, I turned to face him, barely able to find my voice. "What?" I choked out.

Agnar's expression softened in a way I rarely saw. "Your hair," he said. "It's just like Mom's used to be..."

For a heartbeat, I couldn't breathe. The air felt thick, like I was drowning in memories I couldn't grasp.

"I remember how her hair was wild. We loved tugging on her curls when we were little. She'd always scold us..." Agnar's voice was flooded with excitement, like a child remembering something so precious, something I couldn't reach.

"Don't. Please." My voice came out sharp, cutting him off. My chest felt tight, as if something was pressing against me from all sides.

Agnar's smile faltered, confusion and hurt flashing across his face.

The room was suffocatingly still. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. I couldn't do this. Not now. Not with him looking at me like that.

I turned away. "Just...drop it."

Agnar didn't say anything. His footsteps were soft, and before I knew it, he was gone. I heard the door close quietly behind him, but the silence that followed felt deafening.

Did I feel guilty for shutting him out? Of course, I did. But what was I supposed to say? How could I share those memories with him when I couldn't even remember her face?

I clenched my fists. It wasn't fair. None of it was.

***

"Mama!" I squealed, my little legs pumping as fast as they could. Agnar was beside me, both of us racing to see who could reach her first.

Laughter bubbled up in my chest, the kind of laughter only a child could know—innocent and free. Agnar was faster, but it didn't matter. She was there. Waiting.

Mom stood ahead, arms open wide, ready to catch us. Warm. Safe. Ours.

I reached for her—

Then, with a jolt, I woke up.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I gasped for air like I'd just run a marathon. I blinked into the darkness, but the memory was already slipping away, fading like smoke.

Cold sweat clung to my skin. My breath was ragged. I could still feel the ache in my chest, that empty space where the memory should have been, but was lost somewhere between dreams and reality.

Was that real? Or was it just another fragment of a past I couldn't hold onto?

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breath, but the ache in my chest wouldn't let up.

"Azgar? Are you okay?"

Freya's voice sliced through the darkness, quiet but steady. The faint moonlight illuminated the crown of her head, her silhouette barely visible against the shadows.