Chapter 319
The interior of Stardust Garden was immaculate, yet utterly lifeless.
Despite the meticulous cleanliness, the air tasted stale, heavy with the scent of unmoving dust and unshed tears.
The vibrant energy that had always defined the Astraea Familia….a constant hum of righteous zeal and cheerful noise……had been replaced by a chilling stillness.
It was the silence of deep shock, a suspended animation of the soul.
Draco watched as his familia, whispering instructions to Eleni and Clair, quietly dispersed toward the kitchen and empty rooms.
He, however, headed straight for the main staircase.
His target was the second floor, more specifically, Alise Lovell.
He moved slowly, each step a conscious effort to conserve his limited energy, his movements measured and quiet so as not to startle the inhabitants further into their shells.
The wooden steps groaned faintly beneath his weight, the only sound breaking the oppressive silence.
He reached the second-floor corridor, a long hallway lined with closed, identical doors.
He recognized the location of Alise’s room from previous friendly visits.
He stopped before the door, which looked sturdy and locked from the inside.
He raised his hand, hesitating for a moment.
This required finesse, not force.
He was not a warrior demanding surrender; he was a friend offering sanctuary.
He knocked once, gently.
A slow, rhythmic tap-tap.
“Alise,” his voice was low, resonant, and calm.
“It is Draco. We are here. We are safe.”
Silence.
Absolute, impenetrable silence.
He waited, counting the seconds in the rhythm of his own tired heartbeat.
His body pulsed with a dull, insistent ache, reminding him that every minute spent here was a minute stolen from his time to rest.
“I saw you at the window, Alise. I know you are awake.”
Still nothing.
No sound of movement, no muffled reply.
Just the solid wood barrier between them.
Draco leaned closer to the door, lowering his voice further, transforming it into an intimate, shared secret.
“We both know what it means to be a captain, Alise. We both know what it means to lead, and what it means to survive when the fire has burned out everything else. Your Familia needs you, just like mine needs me.”
He paused, letting the implication sink in.
‘You cannot afford this grief right now. Not if you intend for them to live. The evilus remnants will pounce on the opportunity as soon as they get wind of the situation’
“We are not here to drag you out, or to force conversation. We are simply occupying space. We are waiting for the evening Guild meeting, where I will attempt to dissuade predatory familia’s away from you girls. We are resting. You and the others should, too. You have suffered a tragedy no one should endure, but you are still alive. Astraea would not want you to starve yourself into oblivion.”
He pressed on, knowing that direct reference to their goddess might be the only hook left.
“The greatest dishonor you can show her is to surrender the ideals she fought for…justice, kindness, and survival. She gave you all her strength, Alise. Now you must use it. Not for battle, but for endurance.”
After what felt like an eternity, a sound finally reached him….not a word, but a faint, choked breath, quickly suppressed.
A tiny fissure in the stone wall she had erected.
“I know you heard about my situation,” Draco continued, sensing the moment of connection. “You know that my time here is limited. I can stay to ensure your safety and stability for a short while, but I cannot stay forever. When I leave, you need to be ready to lead your sisters, if that is the path you choose.”
He allowed the silence to stretch again, heavy with unspoken possibilities.
“We are friends, Alise. And we are allies. The Bahamut Familia is also here to consolidate our resources with yours. We are offering strength, family and companionship. But we cannot help those who refuse to stand up. If you are going to stay here and grieve, then at least grieve responsibly. You are Alise Lovell. You are a captain. You have duties.”
He took a step back from the door, his muscles protesting the strain of standing still.
“We settled into an empty room. We borrowed some supplies. If you need anything, even just water, you only need to call out to any of my familia members. They are all downstairs,” Draco stated, concluding the one-sided negotiation.
He had planted the seed of responsibility, appealing to her warrior's side rather than her shattered heart.
It seemed like the only way to reach Alise.
Just as he turned to leave, a low, rasping whisper finally reached him, muffled by the wood, but undeniably there.
“Leave… now. G-go… fix yourself, Draco.”
It was not defiance; it was a desperate plea for him to prioritize his own life, a flicker of her ingrained kindness.
Draco stopped, a weary sense of satisfaction washing over him.
He had gotten through.
“No, Alise,” he replied, his voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.
“My familia is messy, our finances are almost non-existent, and you and your sisters are drowning in despair. I cannot leave Orario until I secure the future of everyone attached to the Bahamut and Astraea names. I am the captain. I have to secure the home before I can seek the cure. That is my duty.”
He did not wait for another response.
He knew he wouldn’t get one.
He had forced her to acknowledge reality and his presence.
That was enough for now.
The long task of bringing the Astraea Familia back to the light had begun, and it would be a marathon, not a sprint.
As he walked down the corridor toward the empty room, the overwhelming exhaustion finally began to reclaim him.
His vision flickered, patches of blackness threatening the edges of his sight.
He gripped the polished wood banister tightly as he descended the stairs, forcing himself to appear steady.
He found his familia gathered in a modest, mostly unused sitting room near the back of the house.
They had cleaned up the room, spread out their meager supplies, and were sharing a quiet, rationed meal of dried meat and stale bread they found in the Astraea pantry.
Michalis looked up as Draco entered.
“Draco-nii, you should eat. There’s a bit left.”
Draco nodded, accepting the offered food, though his stomach churned with fatigue rather than hunger.
“Listen. The Guild meeting is scheduled for the evening,” Draco said, chewing slowly.
“I need to attend. I will use that time to get a clear picture of the city's state, and also clarity on our familia’s standing. I did not fail to notice the hostile gazes of several civilians on our way here”
On their way to the Astraea familia home, Draco had observed mixed reactions to their presence.
Some residents showed open hostility, while others waved at them like heroes.
It was strange, understandable, yet somewhat concerning.
Several familia’s were facing the same issue, but it was more apparent towards the Bahamut familia.
With the crises of the evilus over, the residents could grieve, but some channeled their energy into hate.
It was easier blaming someone else for their problems rather than facing reality.
Vasiliki looked at Draco, her face pale.
“You shouldn’t go out, Draco-nii. You just got back, and you look like you might collapse.”
“I will not collapse,” Draco stated, perhaps too harshly.
“I will attend. This meeting is unavoidable. The political vacuum left by the death of many familia’s is dangerous. If we do not assert ourselves now…..both for the Bahamut Familia’s survival and the protection of the Astraea girls……someone else will step into the gap and exploit the situation, or worse, accuse us of complicity.”
He finished his small ration, the meager food doing little to quell the gnawing emptiness inside him.
“You all rest. Truly rest. Do not leave this property. Vasiliki, you are in command while I am gone. Eleni, Clair, Dimitra keep trying to offer food and water to the Astraea girls, but do not push them. We will wait for them to respond. Our presence must be a constant, non-threatening pressure.”
Draco rose, his joints popping faintly.
The simple act of rising felt like lifting a boulder.
He knew the hours ahead would be brutal.
The journey to the Guild headquarters, the political maneuvering, and the effort of masking his near-mortal injury would drain the last dregs of his strength.
But duty called.
And he would not allow himself to rest until the job was done.
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Draco paused at the threshold, looking back at the young, bruised faces of his familia.
"I will return before midnight," he promised, his voice steadying on the final word.
A fractional nod conveyed the command: Hold the line.
Then, he was moving, stepping out into the twilight world of Orario.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, smearing the western sky in hues of exhausted orange and bruised violet.
Shadows deepened, concealing, and the streetlamps sputtered to harsh, isolating cones of light. The gate of Stardust Garden closed behind him with a soft, final click.
Instantly, the effort of maintaining a stoic posture doubled.
Every nerve ending screamed the betrayal of his compromised body, but Draco drew upon the last vestiges of his mental discipline.
The Guild was around a mile away.
Normally minutes by walking, perhaps seconds if he flew; tonight, the distance felt like a pilgrimage across fire.
He walked slowly, his pace deliberate, designed to project calmness and strength, masking the stumbling exhaustion that truly defined him.
He wore a modest black cloak……no armor, to avoid seeming aggressive……but the simple cloth felt like a lead shroud against his skin.
As soon as he reached the main road, the quiet hum of evening activity seemed to die down around him.
People stopped talking.
Children, usually oblivious, were hastily pulled closer to their parents.
The silence was different from the spiritual shock inside Stardust Garden; this was a pointed, public judgment.
Draco felt the weight of their scrutiny…..not just the burden of his own actions, but the burden of everything the war had taken.
He was the captain of the Bahamut Familia, a group that had fought valiantly, yes, but also one that many saw as too powerful, too close to the edges of acceptable morality, and now, too dangerous.
The whispers followed him like trailing smoke:
"Look at him. The Bahamut Captain."
"They say he’s the monster who erased the factory district…killed the evilus Champion, and ate all those innocent people."
"What! Is that true?"
"Quiet! He might hear you."
"But wasn’t he friends with Astraea Familia? Are they in cahoots?"
"Where is the rest of his familia? Are they monsters, too?"
Most damning were the looks of outright resentment and grief.
For some of those who had lost loved ones, it was easier to focus their sorrow into anger against the few who had survived, the ones who walked away with their lives.
Draco represented the continuation of a conflict the populace desperately wished to forget.
However despite this, Draco kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, an impenetrable mask glued to his features.
He saw the occasional ally….a guild messenger offering a nervous nod; an adventurer group saluting quickly with genuine respect…..but these were scattered moments of validation against a growing tide of suspicion.
By the time the towering structure of the Guild headquarters came into view, Draco’s legs felt like wet clay, and the dull throbbing in his side intensified to an electric shock with every step. The Guild was miraculously intact.
He mounted the steps.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the city noise muted, replaced by the hushed, anxious murmur of workers and waiting adventurers.
He recognized the many captains instantly: leaders from surviving major, mid-tier and minor familias.
The sheer number of vacant seats in the waiting room was daunting, a stark measure of the city’s loss.
Those present represented the new landscape of Orario…….a landscape riddled with opportunities for the ruthless.
He spotted Tsubaki, the Hephaestus Familia Captain, usually jovial, now looking strained and exhausted as she leaned against a pillar.
He also noted the gaze of Ottar, the Freya Captain, who offered a fractional nod.
Draco nodded back.
And there was Shakti, speaking with a few minor captains.
Her gaze locked onto Draco, morphing from weary vigilance to concerned relief.
She broke off her conversation immediately, her boots thudding softly on the polished stone floor as she approached.
"Draco," Shakti called out, her voice low and somewhat affectionate.
She stopped a foot away, her eyes scanning his face, instantly recognizing the signs of extreme fatigue and underlying injury.
"You absolute fool. You just got back. You should be in bed for at least a week."
"Hello, Shakti," Draco replied, his voice maintaining an even keel despite the tremor running through his body.
He forced a small, tired smile.
Shakti sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"Your familia’s position is secured, Draco. You saved half the city, my sister and even took down the Evilus Champion. No one here doubts the Bahamut Familia's strength and dedication, though the common folk are quick to forget."
"It’s not just my Familia I am concerned with," Draco stated, lowering his voice.
"I have relocated my remaining members to the Astraea Familia home. We are currently offering them protection, at least until they are mentally stable enough to join another familia of their choice."
Shakti's eyes widened.
"You've done what? Draco, taking on the burden of the Astraea name right now is a dynamite. The moment the Guild dissolves their official registration, every vulture seeking to claim their assets or their remaining members will descend."
"Exactly," Draco affirmed, his jaw tightening.
"Which is why I need to make it clear that the Astraea Familia is under the direct protection of the Bahamut Familia."
"You want to draw a line in the sand," Asfi observed, having quietly approached them.
"A very dangerous line. But necessary. Fine."
Shakti placed a hand onto Draco’s shoulder, a gesture that almost made him sway.
"We will support you. But be sharp in there. There are very few you can trust. Everyone else is still measuring the size of the hole you just occupied."
"I understand," Draco said, glancing toward the large double doors of the main meeting room, which were now swinging open.
"The meeting is about to begin, Captains," a stern voice announced.
Draco took one final, deep breath, pulling the remnants of his strength into a cohesive shell. "Let's see what mess we have to deal with now."
He paused, adding with a faint echo, "And then finally, I will rest."
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