Chapter 150: Kael

Ian had no choice but to silently pull Kei into his arms and carry him back to his small treehouse cabin.

Keanu trotted slowly along the narrow trail. Each step was feather-light, yet the rider sitting upon its back felt not an ounce of peace. Ian cradled Kei tightly against his chest, supporting the boy’s back with one arm and cradling his head with the other, terrified that the moment he loosened his grip even slightly, that icy form would slip from his grasp.

"Kei," Ian murmured in a trembling voice.

There was no response.

Kei’s feeble respiration brushed lightly against the inside of Ian’s wrist. The boy was still breathing; so long as he breathed, it wasn’t too late yet.

Yet Eleanor’s parting words echoed relentlessly in his mind:

*By the time dawn breaks, he will pass away.*

Ian bent down, pressing his cheek against Kei’s soft, dark hair. The boy no longer chuckled over glowing fish, nor did he inquisitively ask how tall the Tree of Life stood. The tiny fingers that had once stroked the silver fish scales now hung limply, devoid of a shred of strength.

If he hadn’t coaxed Kei out of that cabin...

If he hadn’t brought Kei to the lake...

If he hadn’t stubbornly insisted on showing Kei the outside world...

Perhaps Kei’s affliction wouldn’t have flared up.

No.

Ian tightened his arms around his friend. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Dwelling on ’what-ifs’ wouldn’t wake Kei up, nor would it ferry the two of them back to the boy’s cozy little home.

Yet he couldn’t halt those spiraling thoughts.

He shouldn’t have grown curious about humans. He shouldn’t have slipped past Julius’s magic array by enticing Kei into granting him entry. And he certainly shouldn’t have befriended Kei, shouldn’t have accepted the boy’s smile and foolishly believed that simply staying by his side meant they could explore everything together.

He was the one who had lured Kei out of safety; he was the one who had brought about Kei’s doom.

Keanu came to a halt beneath the canopy. The cabin stood right before them, yet Ian didn’t immediately dismount. He simply sat motionless, as though so long as he refused to step inside, the moment he had to confront Kei lying unresponsive would never arrive.

Then, the door swung open.

Startled, Ian hurried to dismount, cradling Kei in his arms. He carried his friend inside, laying him gently down upon his own small bed. The blankets still retained the lingering scent of grass and the warm sunlight from the morning. Ian pulled the covers up over Kei’s chest, then collapsed heavily onto the floor beside the bed.

Kei’s features remained tinted a bruised purple. His soft, dark hair was slightly ruffled across the pillow, his eyes tightly shut, his long lashes entirely still.

Ian reached out a hand, longing to stroke Kei’s cheek, but froze halfway. He was terrified that Kei’s skin would feel colder than the palms of his own hands, the ultimate, cruel proof that he had already passed on.

"Kei..."

"Big Brother? What is that human doing here?"

A voice rang out from the doorway.

Startled, Ian whipped his head around. Standing on the threshold was a boy possessing a face identical to his own. Same facial contours, same lips, yet his hair and eyes blazed with a brilliant golden radiance. The child’s gaze lingered upon Kei, as detached as though observing an unfamiliar foreign object.

Kael, Ian’s twin younger brother.

"He’s my friend," Ian rasped, his voice hollow. "He’s sick."

Kael stepped inside, leaning over to inspect Kei. He didn’t inquire about the nature of the illness, nor did he ask why a human child was lying upon Ian’s bed. His eyes merely swept past that ashen, bruised face before coming to a halt upon the jade-green leaf resting against Kei’s neck.

"Ian, why do you have a human for a friend?"

Ian stared blankly at that cold, indifferent visage. "Kael... do you hate humans, too?"

Kael gave a faint shake of his head. "Hate them? No," he stated, as though the question itself were utterly baffling. "Merely a species with an agonizingly short lifespan. What possible amusement or concern could they warrant?"

Kael’s gaze drifted back to the jade-green leaf. A faint greenish glow cast its light across his features, doing nothing to soften his chilly expression. "You even lent him the Tree of Life’s leaf. Such a waste."

Ian offered no reply.

He stared down at the leaf resting against Kei’s chest. In the past, Ian had believed it was the most precious gift he could bestow upon his friend. The Tree of Life’s leaf had stayed by his side since the day he was born, quietly nurturing and protecting him. He had trusted that if Kei wore it, the boy would be able to gaze upon the forest a little longer, roam a bit further, and share in a bit more joy.

He had never imagined that leaf would transform into concrete proof of his own utter foolishness.

"I wanted to lend it to him," Ian said, though his words were so faint they were barely audible even to his own ears. "Kei needed it."

"He isn’t an Elf, though," Kael retorted. "That leaf was born to protect our Elven race. Humans are entirely unworthy of wielding its power."

Ian lifted his gaze to look at his younger brother. He had once believed that because the two of them were born simultaneously from the exact same fruit of the Tree of Life, grew up beneath the same canopy, and witnessed the same sparkling firelights dancing through the midnight woods, they were bound to understand one another. Yet right now, a chasm wider than the entire forest seemed to stretch between Ian and Kael.

"Why on earth do you insist humans are lowly creatures?" Ian demanded. "Kei has never even stepped outside his home. He rejoiced simply at catching sight of a beetle crawling along a tree trunk. He was curious about silver-scaled fish, about leaves, about every little thing."