Non-Elemental spirit

ㅤ Ruins had always fascinated them. For the uninitiated, the remains of ancient civilizations might seem boring and monotonous, but for Mikleo and Sorey, every detail was important, every detail was unique. They gleaned so much new and incredible information from the drawings and inscriptions on the walls, learning so much that it was impossible to count.Not every scholar could boast such profound knowledge. Ruins have always been an echo of the past, where not every foot was able to set foot. Not every thief has reached its treasures. Not everyone has been given the gift of unlocking its secrets. While the ruins could tell of life in the past, the life within them had long since vanished… So the boys couldn't immediately believe that what they saw was true. A young man sat in a sealed cage. Hearing footsteps, he seemed to wake up, opening his red eyes. His expression was sullen. But then, as if it were a delusion, the image of the young man changed to one that was innocent, frightened and bright, like the color of his emerald eyes. "…A-are you okay?!" Sorey was the first to react, rushing towards the cage. "Wait!" Mikleo tried to stop him. "We don't know… who he is." Mikleo almost called the “find” “what,” but he managed to stop himself in time: after all, there was a living creature in front of him. A sentient one, judging by its appearance and gaze. "We can't abandon a human in need!" "Sorey, take a closer look at the cage. It's been sealed for hundreds of years. A human wouldn't have lived that long." "A Seraph?" Sorey suggested hesitantly. The color of his hair and eyes confused him. "But there's no way to tell what element he is… Neither his hair nor his eyes…" "Yeah, especially the eyes," Mikleo added, skeptical and wary. "In case you hadn't noticed, they were originally red. We need to look around and search for ancient records." "Or ask him himself," Sorey found a simpler solution. Although less reliable, in Mikleo's eyes. "Hello," he said, crouching down to be on par with the captive, "my name is Sorey, and this grump is Mikleo. What's your name?" Sorey acted as friendly as possible; he knew no other way. The young man's questioning look met with a blank stare, causing Sorey to become confused. However, after thinking for a moment and glancing at the heart-shaped pendant clutched tightly in his hand, he replied: "Emil." Sorey breathed a sigh of relief; he had been starting to worry, having no idea what to do next in such a situation. Meanwhile, Mikleo was trying to decipher the inscriptions. They were older than any he had encountered before—Mikleo couldn't understand half of them. His attempts to string together familiar words produced nothing intelligible. "Nice to meet you, Emil. Just be patient, okay? We'll get you out of here!" "I wouldn't make such promises if I were you," Mikleo chided him for his haste. "No clues?" Sorey suggested, not thinking Mikleo was referring to their new friend. "Did you find anything?" No matter how suspicious Mikleo had been of Emil, the words he'd deciphered sounded harmless, even inspiring. "I can't say for sure. All I could read was: 'Seraphim… save… a life. Sacrifice… freedom…'" "Seraphim saved a life? And this guy is a victim, and he needs to be freed?" "I don't think it's that simple…" Too many words remained beyond his comprehension, which greatly troubled Mikleo. And the young man… He looked completely innocent, as if he had no idea who he was or what was happening. But when they first entered… His gaze was frightening. As if… 'As if there are two beings within him…' "If there are no clues to his release, I'll try to come up with something." Mikleo had no doubt about Sorey's abilities, confident that he would be able to bypass any traps and evade any defenses, so he continued working with the text. 'For the sake of saving all life… Accept the sacrifice…' It took a long time, but Sorey handled the task better than Mikleo. Emil hesitantly emerged from the open cage with the broken seal. Mikleo had to help with it, though, as spiritual power was essential. But Sorey looked very proud as he displayed the power of friendship and teamwork in front of Emil. "How are you feeling?" Sorey asked with interest and concern when Mikleo told him that the seal had been draining Emil's spiritual energy. "…Fine," Emil replied modestly, looking away sheepishly. His consciousness seemed to gradually emerge, a new range of emotions unfolding. "So," Sorey smiled contentedly, asking enthusiastically, "you are a seraph, aren't you? What is your element? Your hair is closer to earth, but it's a different shade, and your eyes suggest wind." "Or fire," Mikleo reminded him. "While you can't judge by just the eyes, something usually always indicates an element. So what's yours?" "Element?" Emil asked, confused. "Mikleo." One intonation was enough for Mikleo to understand what Sorey wanted. A demonstration. So Mikleo gathered water above his hand, forming a floating sphere. "Mikleo is our seraph of water. And you?" "I…" Emil's eyes began to dart from side to side, as if searching for something in his memory. At some point, his gaze stopped. Emil turned toward the inscription. To a pair of friends, he appeared frozen, but inside, a fierce struggle was raging. Until his eyes turned red again. Then, with confidence, he said: "Life." "Sorey!" Mikleo was the first to react: as if on command, monsters began to surround him, crawling out of every crevice. "Emil!" Hastily drawing his sword, Sorey stood back to back. It was no longer possible to get close to "Emil", but the monsters didn't attack him. "Emil" looked at the inscription, ignoring the shouts of the friends. Reading it wasn't a problem for him. 'Here lies the Great Seraphim Ratatosk, who voluntarily bound himself to the chains of fate to save all life on the planet. Accept his sacrifice, accept his loss, for his freedom will bring death to all existence.' Noticing that his hand was still clutching something, he unclenched his fist. With a clang, muffled by the struggle, the pendant fell to the stone floor. On one side was the name Emil, carefully and ornately engraved, and on the other, Marta. Names that had meant nothing for thousands of years… ㅤ