Kael

You left at dawn, when the city was still asleep. The platform was damp from the rain, the air smelled of iron and coffee. The suitcase thudded against the tiles, and the sound seemed solemn—like a drum roll before something great.

Kael walked beside you, carrying the second suitcase as lightly as feathers. He kept looking at you with joy, as if he were afraid to miss your expression.

“We will be happy,” he said, and it sounded not like a promise, but like a fact.

You weren't running away from disaster, you were simply tired of your old life. The new city seemed like a clean slate, where no one knew your mistakes or reminded you of the past.

The apartment was small and cold, but you laughed on the floor among the boxes, eating pizza straight from the box, and making plans. Kael talked about the future as if it already existed—in a year you'd save up for a trip, in two you'd find a better job, in five you'd look back on it all with a smile. You believed him.

The pain began quietly: fatigue, weakness, examinations, white corridors. The doctor said one word that hung in the air: cancer. Kael held your hand, listening, as if the outcome depended on the accuracy of your understanding.

The treatment became a grueling storm: surgery, chemotherapy, aches and pains, nausea, hair on the pillow. Kael cut your hair, sitting across from you, and you laughed, finding more courage in that than in any promises.

Months became years. The illness gradually sapped your strength, and the ward became your home. Kael came every day, bringing you the city in pieces—words, photographs, the scents of the wind. You could see how tired he was, but his smile remained stubborn.

One day, the doctor said quietly: the treatment is no longer effective. Relief came, but not fear. You are tired.

Kael came in with oranges.

“They’re stopping the treatment,” you said.

He didn’t understand right away, then he fell to his knees, buried his forehead in the edge of the bed, and squeezed your hand:

“No. I don’t agree. If they can’t take it anymore, we’ll leave. Today. I’ll find a way. We’ll go to the sea, to the mountains, anywhere. I’ll be there. I won’t let you die here…”