My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 226: Sun Felt Pains

Sharp. Sudden. Not physical.

A bubble in his mind burst open—loud enough to break the stillness. Memory surged in behind it like pressure behind a cracked seal. The observatory. That machine. The godless crucifix. The deal they made. The gem.

Elias flinched.

Tried to swim. Push upward. Anything.

But the black water was already gone.

His eyes snapped open.

The ceiling came back first. Wooden beams above him, weathered and real. The colors around the room had shifted. Less warmth now, more amber and dust. The calendar had changed. A new sheet hung overhead—brown-black paper, heavier stock. Heat Crest was scrawled across the top in slanted ink. Below that, the 27th had been circled.

Nearly two months.

Gone.

A pair of hands slipped beneath him. Gentle. Familiar.

"Oh, wow," someone said, voice light and close. "Already lifting your head?"

A woman leaned into view, smiling down at him. Her features were soft. Freckles across her nose. A silver-threaded apron tied neatly around her waist. The scent of lavender clung to her fingers, undercut by something metallic—like coin dust.

"Not even two months old," she murmured, shifting her grip. "And look at you."

Her hand moved to support his neck. Elias strained, not out of instinct but intent. The effort drew a dull burn through the base of his skull. Muscles stretched too far, too soon.

But the world came in clearer this time.

The beams overhead weren’t blurred. The edge of the calendar curled inward where the sun had browned it. Dust motes drifted in a lazy line across the room. Somewhere nearby, a breeze slipped through a half-open window, carrying the dry scent of baked clay and distant water.

The woman turned at a sound from the doorway.

Seraphine stepped in, her movements slow but even. Auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her face was drawn—not gaunt, just pale, the kind of exhaustion that came from something internal still healing.

"Please, Lira," she said, voice steady but edged with fatigue, "go collect the monthly coins for the Anacraids."

She crossed the room as she spoke, one hand bracing the doorframe as she passed.

"They’re digging new projects near the outer terrace," she added. "So stay clear once you’re done."

"Of course, my lady," Lira said with a small bow, then turned to Elias and lifted him once more.

Her hands shifted him carefully into Seraphine’s arms.

The transfer was seamless, practiced. But even in his infant frame, Elias felt it. Lira’s hands were firm, used to routine. Seraphine’s were softer. Warmer, yes—but less sure. Like she was still relearning how to hold something this small.

She didn’t look uncertain.

But her grip said enough.

Her eyes flicked down to him as she adjusted her hold, thumbs brushing over his tunic. One hand moved slowly up to part the fine strands of hair at his temple. Her finger lingered there, tracing along the soft line of his scalp.

"You’re as beautiful as my other boys," she murmured.

Not to anyone in particular. Not even to him, really.

Just a thought given shape.

"Keep doing great things, sweetheart."

Her voice barely rose above the breath it rode in on.

Elias didn’t know what hit him first. The warmth in her words, or the frustration rising under it. His chest clenched, and he couldn’t tell if it was from affection or irritation. Both, maybe. Stacked on top of each other in ways that didn’t make sense.

He hated being trapped like this.

Stuck in silence. Wrapped in someone else’s limbs. Reduced to soft skin and reflexes, waiting for his body to catch up.

But Gavric’s booming laughter still rang faint in the back of his mind. And now, Seraphine’s hands. Her scent. Her voice.

It stirred something old.

Not just memory. Something deeper. Familiar.

A father’s presence. A mother’s voice.

Things he hadn’t felt—not really—since long before Cube X. Long before the shard. Maybe even before his old name stopped meaning anything.

This isn’t meant to last, he thought, the realization hitting with an unnatural sharpness. I need to plan for the gem. I need to walk. Get to the capital.

But...

For now?

The warmth was enough.

Just for a moment.

Dot’s voice buzzed into his mind like a flickering light bulb warming up.

"Aww, that’s sweet, Baby Elias," she said, the grin almost audible. "You’re so adorable."

Elias didn’t bother reacting. He didn’t have the muscle control to roll his eyes even if he wanted to.

But he pictured her floating there, wings flicking playfully, that smug little glow brighter than usual.

"Wait," he thought, the words forming cleaner now, more deliberate. "You’re here. Or... half of you, right?"

"Yeah," Dot answered, and the tone of her voice dipped. Less playful. More puzzled.

"It’s weird. I see both sides—here and with Kikaru—but it’s like trying to watch two skies at once."

A pause.

"Kikaru doesn’t believe me when I talk about you," she added, quieter. "Thinks I’m just... cheering her up."

Her name landed like a pebble in still water.

Kikaru.

Elias felt something tighten behind his ribs.

"She’s okay?" he asked, his thoughts moving fast now. "How much time’s passed over there?"

"Uh... maybe twenty minutes?" Dot replied, wings flicking nervously. "Time’s slow where she is. Like, really slow."

The godless crucifix’s eyes flickered behind his eyelids.

Not just remembered—present. Cold and silver, focused. That voice, calm and clinical, speaking about time like it was a series of folds to be pressed and rearranged. A trick of dimensions. A weight on the soul.

Vampire-looking bastard, Elias thought, the image sticking too well.

Dot scoffed somewhere in the background of his mind. Not loud. Just enough for him to hear her disapproval.

"I need to hurry," he muttered, frustrated now. "Get walking. Moving."

The thought clanged around his skull like a loose wheel. He couldn’t move. Not really. The effort only reminded him how useless his limbs still were.

"I can’t control time," he added, quieter.

Dot’s glow dimmed slightly, her tone shifting with it.

"Might as well relax, then," she said. "Enjoy the no-problems life. Beats fighting to the death, right?"

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