"You forgot something," Leo panted, holding the compass out.
Elias walked over to Leo’s bedside. He thought about the time Leo had fallen into the creek when they were seven, and how Elias had jumped in without a second thought, his own fear vanishing the moment he grabbed Leo’s hand. He thought about the countless nights they had spent whispering about the stars, imagining they were great explorers. Brotherly Love
"No, Leo, that's for you. To find your way," Elias said softly. "You forgot something," Leo panted, holding the compass out
He turned to see Leo, breathless and clutching the compass. The younger boy didn't look angry; he looked determined. He thought about the countless nights they had
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.
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."
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.