The digital clock in the private infirmary ticked with slow, deliberate rhythm.Morning sunlight streamed through the wide glass window, filtered by pale curtains that swayed gently under the hum of the air system.
Aerys Vilozyver stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, heavy as if weighted by centuries of sleep. He could not tell how many days had passed. His last memory was a void — a scream echoing inside his skull, the scent of blood clinging to every breath.
Beside his bed sat Lord Aelyzabeth Thors, asleep in her chair, her head resting against her arm. The faint redness beneath her closed eyes betrayed nights without rest. Her uniform was still creased and slightly stained, yet she had refused to change it. Despite her exhaustion, the warmth of her presence remained undiminished.
The door opened softly.
A young boy with pale silver hair — no more than five years of age — stepped inside, carrying a small tray of food in his delicate hands. Maximilius von Thors, Aerys's younger brother.There was much of Aerys in him: the same silver hair, the same calm composure. Yet in his eyes glimmered a gentleness untouched by pain.
The moment Maximilius saw his brother awake, he froze.Fear flickered across his face. His lips trembled as he instinctively took a step back.
Then Aelyzabeth stirred.
"Oh… Maxis, my dear, have you been waiting long?"Her voice — soft and melodic — melted the tension. The boy hesitated, then walked forward again, offering the tray with both hands.
"I… I brought you breakfast, Mother."
Aelyzabeth smiled faintly and took the tray. Her gaze then turned to Aerys."Aerys, this is your little brother — Maximilius."She reached out, gently ruffling the younger boy's hair. "You two have hardly spoken before, haven't you? Come now, at least greet each other properly."
Maximilius looked at his brother again."…Good morning, brother," he whispered, his voice barely audible — and then quickly lowered his gaze and backed away toward the door. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable.
Aerys said nothing. He simply watched as the door closed behind the boy, the silence heavy between them.
"It's all right, Mother," he murmured. "No one really wants to talk to me anyway."
Aelyzabeth turned toward him, sorrow shadowing her expression — sorrow laced with guilt."You've done nothing wrong, Aerys… But there are things beyond our choosing."Her smile was soft, though its edges trembled with pain. "You'll have to return to school soon… I wish you didn't have to."
"I'll be fine," Aerys replied evenly. "I just need to finish my studies."
Aelyzabeth chuckled quietly, trying to ease the air."And the allowance I give you — one million pounds a month — is that still enough, my dear?"
Aerys shook his head lightly."I only use twenty thousand a month. The rest I save and invest."
She raised an eyebrow. "Only that little? Why?"
He met her gaze. "You only spend about twenty thousand a month yourself, don't you? I thought I should do the same. It's not strange."
For a moment, Aelyzabeth was speechless. Then she laughed softly — a weary, tender laugh filled with pride."My son… you truly are your mother's child."
She reached out and brushed a hand through his silvery hair, her touch lingering with affection."You know, you could study with me if you wish. I could teach you everything myself."
Aerys looked at her and shook his head."No, Mother. You and Father already pay hundreds of thousands in tuition. I just need to finish the program. You always said our family is poor — I should save where I can."
Aelyzabeth let out a quiet laugh, though her eyes glistened."Yes… poor indeed. But if my son has learned thrift, then I'm rich enough."
Silence settled once more — soft and fragile.After a moment, Aelyzabeth stood, adjusting the blanket over her son.
"Rest well, my dear. I have a meeting today — the new technology division of the National Science Office. I'll be back before evening."Her voice was gentle but steady, a tone that carried both command and care. She left quietly, her footsteps fading into the corridor.
Sunlight slipped once more through the curtains, tracing pale patterns across Aerys's face as he lay back.
In that hush, only the sound of his breathing filled the room — steady, almost peaceful.Yet in his violet eyes, beneath the calm, lingered the ghost of the battlefield…a reflection of loneliness born not of isolation, but of a war within that would never truly end.
Thus ends Chapter B-V.