Arın (The Uniformed Man)
An unease Arın couldn't explain spread through him when he saw the look on İlyara's face after she locked eyes with Number Three. İlyara had taken a step back, but the moment he heard his master Veyra's order to Number Two, Arın's body moved before he had the chance to think. By the time he drew his sword and stepped between them, even he didn't fully understand what he was doing.
"What are you doing, Number One?" his master shouted.
Arın's fingers tightened further around the hilt of his sword. For the first time in a very long time, he could feel his heart beating this fast. The uneven pounding in his chest was unsettling, yet it still didn't make him step back. His eyes remained fixed on Number Two. He wouldn't let him get near İlyara.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, his brows faintly furrowed.
Why?
Orders were what mattered. They always had been. Veyra was his master, and her words were never questioned. For years, the only thing Arın had done was obey the orders given to him.
And yet, despite that, he was still standing in front of İlyara.
As he clashed with Number Two, he heard the sound of bodies hitting the floor behind him. A moment later, Veyra's shout echoed through the hall as she barked orders at the other Morhenas. Arın knocked Number Two back with his sword, and as he forced him away, a violent force rose inside him from somewhere he couldn't understand. Without giving himself time to think, he started running toward İlyara.
But by the time he reached them, the door had already opened.
İlyara was on top of Veyra. Her fingers were gripping Veyra's face tightly, forcing Veyra's head to stay locked onto her gaze. She wasn't looking away. She was using her power again.
Arın's steps slowed on their own. He needed to save his master. That was all he had done for years—carry out orders, protect, kill, obey without thinking… But now, the moment he reached them, his body stopped moving.
His hand was still wrapped around the hilt of his sword. His mind told him he shouldn't stop until the threat was gone. All he had to do was drive his sword into İlyara, and everything would end. That was the logical thing to do. That was what he was supposed to do.
And yet, he couldn't raise his sword.
Worse than that, the thought itself tightened something inside his chest. His heart beat unevenly, and with every pulse, something that had lain silent inside him for years grew stronger. The feeling was unfamiliar. Disturbing. And the worst part was realizing that the heart that should not have been beating for a very long time was coming back to life again.
The sounds of Morhenas flooding into the hall shattered Arın's thoughts. When he lifted his head, he saw the shadows closing in on them, and almost on instinct, he stepped in front of both İlyara and Veyra. His gaze hardened as he raised his sword; he wouldn't allow anyone to get near them anymore.
"Arın."
The moment he heard İlyara's voice, he turned toward her. Her eyes were wide with fear, her chest rising and falling unevenly. But there was more than fear in her gaze. There was something else too—something she was trying to understand but couldn't make sense of.
Taking advantage of that brief distraction, Veyra shoved İlyara off her and pulled herself back. But İlyara didn't let her get away; she grabbed Veyra's arm and dragged her back toward herself.
"Order them to stop, Veyra," she said, her voice low but firm.
Veyra's face tightened with anger.
"Kill this girl!" she shouted.
The instant the order rang out, Arın's body tensed. He moved without thinking. Leaving the Morhenas in front of him behind, he turned and swung his sword toward İlyara.
"Taren."
İlyara's voice was as sharp as metal cutting through the air.
Arın's sword stopped at the very last second.
Taren…
He hadn't heard that name in a very long time. He had never even thought he would hear it again. Something that had lain silent inside him for years trembled at the sound of that single word.
His eyes shifted toward İlyara on their own.
She wasn't running.
Even with the blade that close to her throat, she hadn't stepped back. Without taking her eyes off him, she simply stared at Arın, as though trying to understand his reaction, unwilling to miss even the slightest change in his face.
"How do you know the name Taren?" his master asked. Then Veyra ordered the other Morhenas to stand down.
The Morhenas didn't retreat. They formed a circle around them, waiting with their swords in hand. Their eyes were fixed on them.
İlyara's lips parted slightly. Her breathing trembled.
"W-was… that baby me?" she asked. The moment she noticed the tear sliding down her cheek, she quickly wiped it away with her hand.
Arın's gaze drifted to that movement for a brief moment.
Veyra stared at İlyara for a while. Then her brows faintly furrowed, as though she were reconsidering what she had just heard.
Suddenly, her eyes widened.
"Did you enter my memories?" she asked.
"Tell me, or I'll kill you!" İlyara shouted. Her voice echoed through the hall before her lips parted again. "Tell me…" she said this time, almost in a whisper.
Veyra let out a short chuckle first. Then she tilted her head slightly, slowly looking İlyara up and down.
"You?" she asked. "You're going to kill me?"
Her gaze slowly shifted to Arın. She pointed at him with one hand.
"If you kill me, he dies too."
This time, her laughter echoed against the stone walls of the hall.
İlyara's body tensed slightly. She stepped back a few centimeters, but her eyes never left Arın.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Unable to understand the reason behind the look directed at him, Arın tilted his head slightly to the side. Then his gaze shifted to his master.
"All of them are connected to me," Veyra said, gesturing toward the Morhenas surrounding them. "If I die, they die too."
After letting her gaze wander over the Morhenas in the room for a brief moment, İlyara turned back to Veyra.
"Arın is Taren, isn't he?" she asked.
At those words, Arın's body tensed on instinct.
"You love him, don't you?" İlyara added.
Arın's eyes immediately shifted to his master. His brows faintly furrowed. Brief moments of the physical contact Veyra occasionally initiated surfaced in his mind—her hand on his shoulder, the way she held his face, the closeness that lasted longer than necessary…
But the thought felt illogical to him.
He was a Morhena. Love was an emotion.
And Morhenas did not have emotions.
His master didn't return his gaze. She lowered her head slightly, took a deep breath, and began to speak.
"Your mother possessed the power of the earth. It was a very ancient power," she said, turning her eyes toward İlyara. "And your father was the commander of the Taşkans."
İlyara slowly moved in front of Veyra and sat down on the floor. Silent tears slipped from her eyes, but she never looked away from her.
"Taren, too…" Veyra said.
For a brief moment, her gaze found Arın. Then it immediately shifted elsewhere.
"…was his right hand."
The hall fell silent for a short while. Then Veyra spoke again.
"Many years ago, a seer made a prophecy: 'When the Child of the Earth is born, the shadow of the Ancient descends upon the world.'"
As those words were spoken, old images began surfacing in Arın's mind. He remembered that family. The days before the war began, the cabin, the commander…
But he had never known about the baby.
"But…" İlyara cut in softly. "Wasn't there anyone else with that power?"
Before answering, Veyra looked at her. A faint curve appeared at the corner of her lips.
"There hadn't been for a very long time," she said. "And that day, your mother was the only one who possessed it."
Her gaze darkened.
"People were terrified of the Ancient returning. That's why they wanted to kill you."
İlyara's body tensed for a brief moment. When Arın noticed it, he realized he had unconsciously stepped closer to her himself. He was standing almost directly behind her now.
"Your mother chose to give birth in an old cabin near the Mother Root," Veyra continued. "She believed she could save you that way."
İlyara's lips parted slightly.
"Are they alive?" she asked quietly. "My mother and father…"
"Your mother died after sending you away with Taren." Veyra's voice remained calm. "I don't know the exact reason, but losing you must have been too much for her."
İlyara's gaze dropped to the floor.
"And I heard that your father died in the war while trying to protect you."
After those words, Veyra slowly rose to her feet. Her steps were heavy. As she walked toward İlyara, the expression on her face began to change.
"It's all your fault," she said.
Her voice was harsher now.
"You killed them."
She took another step forward.
"You killed my Taren!"
The last words came out almost as a shout.
Arın had noticed the change in his master's body from the very first step. But by the time he moved, Veyra had already lunged at İlyara.