"You forgot something," Leo panted, holding the compass out.
"No, Leo, that's for you. To find your way," Elias said softly. Brotherly Love
He turned to see Leo, breathless and clutching the compass. The younger boy didn't look angry; he looked determined. "You forgot something," Leo panted, holding the compass out
Quietly, Elias took the compass and tucked it under Leo’s pillow. It was more than a gift; it was a promise. He turned to see Leo, breathless and clutching the compass
Leo shook his head, pressing the wooden disc back into Elias's palm. "I already know where I am, and I know where you're going. You're the one heading into the fog, Elias. You take it. As long as you have it, I'll know you’re coming back. That's how I'll find my way—by waiting for you."
Elias looked at his brother, really looked at him, and realized that the "little" brother he had been trying to protect had grown into the strength he himself needed. He closed his hand over the compass, nodded once, and started down the road. He didn't look back, but for the first time in weeks, the weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter.
The rain drummed a steady, rhythmic beat against the window of the small attic bedroom, a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside. Elias sat at the edge of his bed, turning a worn wooden compass over and over in his hands. It had been their father’s, a relic from a life lived before the world became so heavy.