Chương 51: Charlie Jupiter

Alaric noticed them first. His drunken gaze drifted toward Noah, Ava, and Lux. For a fraction of a second, his eyes flashed purple. Noah saw it. Only Noah. A look of disgust crossed Alaric's face so quickly it almost seemed imagined. Then the color vanished. His eyes returned to deep red, cloudy with alcohol and filled with drunken affection as he stared back down at the amulet in his hand. Noah's instincts tightened. Something was wrong.

But Charlie groaned loudly from the sand, dragging Noah's attention back down. Noah stepped closer.

"Excuse me." Charlie blinked up at him.

"Are you Charlie Jupiter?" Charlie stared at Noah for a moment. Then hiccupped.

"Yeah…" He slowly pushed himself up onto one elbow.

"What do you want?" His crooked glasses slid lower on his nose.

"A kid like you shouldn't be around this bar anyway." He pointed vaguely toward Pour Decisions.

"There are way too many unsavory people here." Noah glanced at the bar. Considering they had just found two drunk disasters thrown out of it, he could not exactly argue. Charlie forced himself to stand. Or tried to. His legs wobbled beneath him as if the ground had personally betrayed him. Ava reached forward instinctively, but Charlie lifted a hand.

"I'm fine." He swayed left. Then right.

"Mostly." Alaric stepped closer.

"So, what can we do for you two?" His voice was suddenly clear. Noah looked at him. The drunken haze was gone. Completely. A moment ago, Alaric could barely stand. Now his posture had steadied, his eyes had sharpened, and his expression had shifted into something calm and professional.

"You two seem pretty strong," Alaric said with an easy smile.

"Will you be attending the Heroes Academy soon?" Noah paused. The Heroes Academy. A school built as a contingency plan in case the Hero of the era died. A place meant to raise the best of the best. Future knights. Future commanders. Future replacements. A place Noah had once dreamed of attending. Before Gram burned. Before Lux chose him. Before he became the very contingency the academy was meant to prepare for. Noah gave a faint smile.

"As much as it was my dream to go there…" His voice softened.

"I don't think that path is in my future anymore." Alaric studied him for a moment. Then smiled.

"Shame." He adjusted his crooked glasses.

"I happen to work as the therapist there." Ava blinked.

"You're a therapist?" Alaric nodded.

"It's a good place." His gaze drifted toward the city around them.

"This world is dangerous. It's important to have somewhere to train the next generation for whatever dangers may befall them." Noah watched him carefully. His words sounded gentle. Reasonable. Kind. That almost made them more unsettling. Ava stepped beside Noah.

"We came here for Charlie." Charlie pointed at himself.

"Poor choice." Ava ignored him. Noah exhaled slowly. Then he raised his hand.

"Sorry about this." A faint shimmer of dark light pulsed from his palm. The lingering alcohol in Charlie's system burned away in an instant, purified like mist vanishing beneath sunlight. Charlie stiffened. The fog in his crimson eyes disappeared. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Alaric chuckled softly as he watched. Clarity snapped into place. For a split second, Charlie looked terrifyingly sharp. Then his expression darkened.

He grabbed Noah by the collar and yanked him forward.

"Hey," Charlie snarled. His breath was no longer slurred, but his voice was still raw.

"What the hell was that for?"

"I felt like sobering you up," Noah said lightly, as if he had not just committed a social crime. Charlie released him with a frustrated shove.

"Damn it." He dragged a hand down his face. There was real irritation in his voice. And underneath it— Fear. Noah looked at him quietly.

"How about you go home?" Charlie froze. His hands began to tremble. Not from withdrawal. From something deeper.

"I can't," he whispered. He took one step back. Then another.

"I can't. Not yet." His voice cracked.

"Don't make me." Ava's expression softened.

"Why can't you go home?" Charlie's breathing quickened. He dropped to his knees, fingers digging into his hair as if he was trying to claw something out of his skull.

"I just can't," he choked.

"Please. Don't make me." His shoulders shook.

"I'm not ready." The desert wind brushed past them, carrying grains of sand across the stone street. Ava knelt slightly in front of him.

"Is it about your wife?" Charlie's head snapped up.

"How do you know about her?"

"We're acquainted with your older brother," Noah replied calmly.

"We came to check on you." Charlie stared at him. Then he let out a bitter, humorless laugh.

"…Of course he would." His shoulders sagged.

"He's a good brother," Charlie muttered.

"Too good." His hand drifted to the locket around his neck.

"I don't deserve him." Noah said nothing.

"It's not just my wife," Charlie whispered. His voice cracked despite how hard he tried to hold it together.

"It's my kids." Ava's eyes softened. Charlie swallowed hard.

"I don't know how to be a parent without her." His fingers tightened around the silver chain.

"I don't know how to raise them." His breathing shook.

"I'm scared I'll ruin everything." He looked down.

"I'll ruin them." Ava's voice was gentle.

"How did your wife pass away?" Charlie closed his eyes.

"Angel's Disease." The words felt heavy.

"The only reason she lived as long as she did was because she was a descendant of the Primordial Healer." Noah's brows furrowed slightly. Angel's Disease. An ocular disease. It converted visual memories into angelic feathers. White plumes that slowly sprouted across the body. Memories becoming matter. Sight becoming sacrifice. At first, it caused fatigue. Then memory loss. Then neurological decay. Until eventually— There was nothing left to remember.

"The feathers grow from the back first," Charlie said quietly.

"Then the arms. Then the neck." His voice trembled.

"She used to joke that she looked like an angel." A small, broken laugh escaped him.

"She couldn't remember our kids' names by the end." Silence fell between them.

"The Primordial Healer," Ava murmured. A Phoenix. The bird that devoured the forbidden fruit and became the blazing embodiment of restoration. Even that bloodline had only delayed the inevitable. Charlie opened his eyes again. They were clear now. Painfully sober.

"I watched her forget our children's faces," he said.

"And now you want me to go home and pretend I know how to replace her?" The desert heat felt suffocating.

"I can manage budgets. I can run trade routes. I can fix financial disasters." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"But I don't know how to be their mother." Noah stepped closer.

"You're not replacing her." Charlie looked up at him. Noah's voice remained gentle.

"You're just being their father." Charlie let out a shaky breath.

"I'm a mess right now," he admitted.

"I don't trust myself to be around them." His gaze dropped to the ground.

"For the past few weeks, my brother has been taking care of them. He told me it's the first time in his life he's ever requested paid time off from work." Charlie let out another hollow laugh.

"He said to take all the time I need." His hand tightened around the locket.

"But I just feel like a leech." The desert wind pushed through the street, carrying heat and dust between them.

"I'm really pathetic," Charlie muttered.

"Dumping all this on a couple of kids." Noah did not react to the insult. Instead, he asked quietly, "What are your kids' names?" Charlie blinked.

"…June and Mars." The names came out softer than everything else.

"My wife named June," he said, voice trembling.

"She said they looked so alike. Same eyes. Same smile." A faint, broken smile touched his lips.

"I named Mars. He resembles me." He swallowed.

"Those kids…" His voice nearly failed.

"They're all I have left now." Noah crouched in front of him.

"No amount of time will make it hurt less." Charlie's shoulders shook.

"No amount of time will suddenly make you ready," Noah continued.

"Her death is going to hurt forever. That doesn't just go away." Ava watched silently beside him.

"All you can do now is be there." Noah's voice did not waver.

"Be around your family. Be around the people you love." Charlie stared at him. Noah held his gaze.

"Got it?" For a long moment, Charlie looked like he might break apart. Then his head lowered.

"F-fine." The word came out barely above a whisper. His hands were still shaking.

"I'll go home." Not because he was ready. But because he understood something now. There would never be a version of him that was ready. Noah stood slowly. Ava let out a quiet breath. Lux watched from behind them, her expression unreadable. Alaric stood a few steps away, silent. For a moment, he only observed the scene with quiet analysis. Then his eyes flashed purple again. A faint smile touched his lips. Noah saw it. Again, only Noah. Then Alaric turned away.

"Well," he said lightly, the drunken slur returning to his voice as if it had never left.

"That was emotionally devastating." Charlie wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"Shut up." Alaric chuckled and tucked the amulet back beneath his coat. Noah and Ava helped Charlie stand. His legs still shook, but this time, he did not try to run. Together, they began walking him home. Behind them, Pour Decisions roared with drunken laughter. Ahead of them waited June and Mars. And somewhere between the two, Charlie Jupiter took his first step back toward the life he had been too afraid to face.