Luka, a young man brimming with optimism, had spent his entire life in Iliasville. From the earliest days, he harbored a singular dream—to become a hero, following in the footsteps of his brother, Kale. The dream fueled his days, propelling him toward a destiny he believed would fulfill not only his aspirations but also answer a question that had lingered since his mother Lucifina's passing.
It had been a few years since Lucifina's departure and Kale's mysterious disappearance. Luka, undeterred by the uncertainties surrounding his family, had set his mind on a dual objective—to find his elusive brother and seek an answer to the question posed to him at Lucifina's funeral: Can a sheep truly coexist with a wolf? In this metaphorical inquiry, humans were likened to sheep and monsters to wolves.
Luka, inspired by the possibility of reconciliation, aimed to prove his brother wrong. He believed it was all a misunderstanding, a clash of perspectives that could be rectified. Yet, as he dove deeper into the world beyond Iliasville, doubts began to surface. The simplistic notion of a hero swinging a sword, shouting about defeating the monster lord, and bringing peace seemed increasingly naive. It would take a miracle to make something like that work, short of a catastrophe that forces both sides to work together.
Luka shook himself awake, the anticipation of the day ahead stirring within him. He donned his gear, preparing for his baptism, a ceremony for all aspiring heroes in Iliasville. The ceremony involved the descent of Ilias herself upon the church to bless the hopeful heroes. As he readied himself, a silent prayer escaped Luka's lips.
"Ilias, mother, watch over me; I'll make sure to bring Kale back for sure." The words held a mixture of determination and optimism, a pledge Luka made to himself and to the divine entity he revered. Despite the potential challenges ahead, years of training had instilled a confidence in him that fueled his resolve.
Without a second thought, Luka left his village behind, venturing into the world beyond. The landscape transformed as he moved away from the familiar surroundings, and a mix of painful memories and unresolved emotions lingered in his mind. Luka acknowledged the internal conflict—he was, to some extent, hypocritical in his quest to bring Kale back when he harbored reservations about the people he was trying to save. Yet he cast aside those thoughts.
"So what if I don't like these people too much?" Luka mused. The weight of his brother's absence, his self-imposed isolation, and the unspoken guilt he carried fueled his determination to make amends. He couldn't shake the sense that it was his fault for leaving Kale on his own, and this journey, fraught with challenges and uncertainties, became a personal quest, not for someone else's sake but to gain peace within himself.
Luka idly stared at the gaping hole at the side of the road, an unsettling shudder coursing through him. Unpleasant memories resurfaced, and he couldn't escape the haunting echo of Kale's voice in his mind.
"Do you even understand what you are saying? Think about it; we were always different."
With a mix of trepidation and determination, Luka traced a hand along the edge of the crater, his grip on his sword tightening. This place held a weight of memories, particularly the last day he saw his brother—a day etched in pain both physically and emotionally.
"You are a fool, Luka. Look around you. What do you see? Glares thrown your way, monsters who only want to eat you and... your family. Which one will you choose in the end?"
Luka's emotions surged, and he lashed out, cutting into the area surrounding the crater until it was filled with debris. The act provided a momentary release, but the pain persisted. Taking a shuddering breath, he resumed his walk, the weight of the past lingering in his every step.
"I was wrong," Luka muttered to himself, the words carried away by the wind. "Seeing their acceptance of me doesn't make me feel better; I just find it disgusting."
Luka was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed a monster walking toward him. A sense of familiarity washed over him as he recognized her as a slime girl, her face radiating a brightness reminiscent of his past. She slid toward him in a carefree manner, playing with a fish, her childlike mannerisms echoing memories.
"Lima? I thought we would reunite at Port Ilias; what are you doing here?" Luka's question hung in the air, the surprise evident in his voice. Perhaps Lima had forgotten the original plan—a not uncommon occurrence with less intelligent slimes.
"You silly boy, after much thinking, Lima decided she wanted to come along from the start." Lima's response carried a playful tone, but Luka wasn't easily swayed. He noticed two things: the annoying use of the word "boy" to describe him and the obvious lie.
"First of all, don't call me a boy if you don't want me to refuse cooking for you." Luka's retort was met with a dismayed cry from Lima. "Second of all, that was on you for, and I quote, 'wanting to be the bestest of the best adventurers' before reuniting with me. If you were so scared, why didn't you just say so from the start? I can always use a pack mule, you know."
Lima's response to being called a pack mule was swift and unconventional—she threw a fish at Luka's face. In a practiced and synchronized dance, Luka cut the fish into four pieces and stabbed each one before they hit the ground. The fluidity of their movements suggested that such exchanges were not uncommon between them.
"Rude," Lima pouted, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Fine, fine, you are a big, muscley man now. What would the man do now? If Lima can know" Her curiosity was genuine, and, since she came out of nowhere, she had absolutely no idea what to expect.
"Right now?" Luka gazed idly at the sky. "We are both too early. It'll be a few hours before anyone wakes up, and that means killing time while I wait for my baptism. I'm open to any 'ideas' you can come up with."
Lima's eyes sparkled with mischief as she pondered the possibilities. but her first thought was swiftly killed by Luka, knowing what to expect. "No, I'm not going to let you suck me; as I have told you before, I'm waiting for the right person." Luka gave her a mocking glance. "Sorry, but you aren't quite cutting it."
Lima was very sweet and understanding, but mature she was not. She approached Luka with her arms crossed. "Why?! Is it because you don't like jelly?" Her voice gained a few decibels and almost broke Luka's eardrums.
"Stop whining! That's not it; I just don't like to be casual about it." He raised his hand to shut her down. "And you do not need to do that to survive; I know you are good with just the fish. anything else you want to suggest?"
In the end, Luka and Lima settled on playing with the boomerang that Luka had carved as a gift for her. However, the dynamics of their play were more one-sided—Lima enthusiastically maneuvered the boomerang while Luka sat in the shade of a tree, observing from afar. As he watched, his gaze lingered on Lima's features, and soon, a faint blush colored his cheeks.
"Stupid Lima, who goes around saying stuff like that?" Luka mumbled to himself, his embarrassment evident.
Kale's voice whispered again to Luka, the echoes of a painful memory haunting him.
"Disgusting. You want to die for them? Fine, I can always start over; find another disciple. Another brother"
As the words resounded in his mind, Luka tried to push them away, a fierce internal struggle playing out. 'He never said that; stop thinking about it.' The weight of the past and the scars, both physical and emotional, mercilessly crushed any romantic feelings that might have been developing.
Luka's gaze lingered on his mother's keepsake—a small ring hanging around his neck. Its purpose was to suppress his powers, ensuring he didn't inadvertently harm himself. Yet, his brother's training seemed to have surpassed the need for the ring, making it more of a sentimental treasure than a practical necessity.
As he contemplated the conflicting thoughts about humanity, monsters, Ilias, and even his own brother, a wave of confusion washed over him. The internal struggle left him uncertain about what to believe and whom to trust.
He was pulled from his contemplation when a pleasant cold sensation enveloped his hands. In a rare reversal of roles, Luka realized he was the one seeking comfort, embracing someone else. Lima, momentarily bewildered, dropped the boomerang and reciprocated the gesture, wrapping her arms around him.
As they separated a little, locking eyes in a shared moment of understanding, Luka couldn't help but appreciate Lima's unique features. Despite her unconventional form, Lima had a certain charm. Her jelly-like composition gave her the appearance of a girl, with her blue eyes shining through her translucent body. Her formless legs fused together in a puddle, and every movement she made caused her entire body to jiggle, akin to a playful, bouncing ball. Lima's almost see-through quality added to her ethereal and intriguing presence.
Luka, acknowledging Lima's quirks, couldn't help but find a certain beauty in her distinctiveness. The appreciation lingered in the air, unspoken but implicit in their gaze.
Lima, oblivious to Luka's silent admiration, was the first to break the silence. "Does that mean—"
Luka swiftly cut her off by stuffing a piece of fish into her mouth. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You certainly would look smarter if you just stayed quiet."
Illias floated in the emptiness of space, her wings now a mere echo of their former brilliance. Millennia passed like fleeting moments, and the weight of futility settled upon her celestial shoulders. The stars, once distant companions, now seemed to mock her with their silent persistence.
Illias's ethereal voice, once filled with hope and determination, now carried the somber melody of resignation. "Father," she whispered, the words barely audible even to herself. "Is this the destiny you foresaw for me? A lonely wanderer in the uncharted realms of eternity?"
Tears of stardust trailed down Illias's cheeks, leaving shimmering trails that dissipated into the void. Her once-vibrant glow dimmed, mirroring the fading spark of hope within her.
With a heavy heart, Illias ceased her futile quest. She let herself drift aimlessly in the cosmic sea, the weight of centuries of searching settling upon her like an infinite shroud.
"I give up," she admitted, the words drowning in nothingness. "There is no meaning in this endless pursuit. Father, wherever you are, I am lost." She felt her energy deplete, and, with nothing going for her, she just closed her eyes and slumbered.