The makeshift fortress held. The splintered door, piled high with Milo's old furniture, stood as a barricade against the world. Inside, the quiet hum of the refrigerator was the only sound, a comforting reminder of a normalcy that felt a million miles away.
Elias had finally fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep, his head resting against the arm of the couch, the bandage on his side a stark white against his skin. Milo had sat there for a long time, just watching him, his hand still on Elias's head, a silent vigil. He was no longer just a person in his home; he was a silent, precious cargo that Milo was now sworn to protect.
Milo woke with a start a few hours later. He had dozed off, sitting upright, and his neck was stiff. Elias was awake. He was sitting up, his dark grass-green eyes fixed on Milo, a look of quiet intensity in their depths. The exhaustion was still there, but it was less pronounced, as if a few hours of sleep had done more for him than days of quiet rest had.
"Morning," Milo whispered. He pulled his hand back, a little self-conscious, but Elias simply reached out and took his, holding it in his own.
"You slept," Elias said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
"Yeah. And so did you," Milo said, a small, grateful smile on his face. He squeezed Elias's hand. "We should probably figure out what we're gonna do. We can't stay here. My landlord is gonna be pissed about the door, and those guys are gonna be back."
Elias squeezed his hand in return, a silent promise. He looked at the makeshift fortress, his expression grim. "The brotherhood is… relentless. They are not merely an organization. They are an obsession. And they will stop at nothing to get what they want."
"And what do they want?" Milo asked, his voice low.
Elias hesitated.
He looked at Milo, and in his eyes, Milo saw a flicker of the old coldness, the familiar shield he put up against the world. But this time, it was gone almost as soon as it appeared, replaced by a deep, new trust.
"The artifacts," Elias said, his voice barely a whisper. "I am a… warden. I am a guardian of my people's history. My charge is to protect what remains of our civilization. The one Valerius seeks… is a part of my family's legacy. It is a thing of immense power. It is called the 'Heart of the Dragon'."
Milo's jaw dropped. "The Heart of the Dragon? You're telling me you're being hunted by a crazy brotherhood for a freaking magical orb?"
Elias nodded, a small, weary nod. "It is not an orb. It is a core. It is the very essence of my bloodline. The last of its kind. If Valerius gets it… he will use it to power a weapon. One that could wipe out the last of my people's kind, for good."
Milo stared at him, his mind reeling. He was no longer a civilian, no longer a bystander.
He was a part of this.
He was now a co-conspirator in an inter-species war.
"So, what's the plan?" Milo asked, his voice now firm, a resolve he didn't know he had building in his chest. "We can't just run forever. We need to find somewhere they can't reach you. What about… another world? That teleporting thing. Can you do it again?"
Elias shook his head, a pained look on his face. "Not for a long time. The strain… it nearly killed me. I need time. Weeks, perhaps. I… I do not even know where we are. The last time I teleported… I was disoriented. I simply… fled."
Milo's heart sank. He looked at the wreckage of his living room, at the reality of their situation.
They were trapped.
They were two boys, one of them severely wounded and the other completely human, hiding from an organization of murderous zealots in a small apartment in Calin City.
Milo took a deep breath.
He squeezed Elias's hand again, a silent promise. "Okay," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Then we make a new plan. We fortify this place. We get you better. And then... we figure out how to take them down. Together."
Elias looked at Milo, his dark grass-green eyes wide with a mix of awe and a new, profound love. He was no longer alone in this fight. He had a human who was completely out of his depth, but who, without question or hesitation, had just offered him a hand in the middle of a war.