Lantern

 The last bond Leônidas held with the shadow of his past dissolved when his prosthesis was rebuilt. Beyond bodily aesthetics, it was a step up — his independence. This amplified his search for purpose, just as he could no longer bear solitude. The drive for emancipation burned unrestrained, hinting at dilemmas still unknown to him, and it seemed logical that this time of rest would be worthwhile if it served to strengthen his spirit.

 His mother had made mistakes, which he had chosen to forgive because he, too, had things to make up for. He didn’t understand why she behaved that way. This was how she could be described: lacking the motivation to seek out deeper meaning, she resigned herself to a path of predictability, never daring to take a risk. The dizzying and involuntary rebellion within him corroborated a restless soul, aware through his own eyes that the suffering of routine came from the absence of action.

 It was heartbreaking. The house was small, and they lived under very precarious conditions. Because of everything he had seen, he feared the moment he might have to strike back. Unprepared, even small stones barely fit in his hand — he was convinced he was a useless coward. He needed something to believe in, something to hold onto to stay alive.

 Despite the tightness in his chest, he wanted to test himself, to set aside misguided beliefs and see how far his efforts could take him. And no one would do it for him — only he could. He blamed no one for the challenge he imposed on himself, shielding himself from disappointment and judgment. At times, he felt the urge to talk constantly, to draw attention to himself; at others, in silence, he found the overwhelming confidence that made him believe he was capable of anything.

 So, when he distanced himself from Phillipe, it wasn’t because Phillipe no longer served a purpose; rather, it was because he hadn’t been able to focus on himself so intensely in a long time. He would soon become a man. The weight of responsibility had brought seriousness. It was as if all circumstances had come crashing down at once, and turning inward was the defense he found.

 Phillipe had matured early, while Leônidas saw himself as a child who had only just realized he had become an adult. The fear of failure became his motivation to persist in his studies. The echoes of his insecure heart, like a suffocated bird, signaled that responsibility would be a burden he’d have to bear alone.

 In those days, he felt he needed more space to manage his concerns. With no one to share them with, Phillipe had too many problems to burden him with.

 In his view, the paths they would take had always been fragmented. He didn’t expect, however, that disassociation would become a source of friction. That had never been his intention. So, when Phillipe pulled away, he believed everything was fine. He had never stopped watching him. Even during the excursion, amid his duties, he kept looking back to make sure the boy was still nearby.

 Maybe he hadn’t been clear enough when telling Phillipe what he meant to him. The synergy they felt when they were together was unmatched. They sensed each other’s thoughts despite the distance. Their feelings were lucid and clairvoyant. And having felt the sensation of losing him — had Phillipe been hurt — he would never have forgiven himself.

 Leônidas believed that, because he had distanced himself from Bartolomeu, fate had been generous with him. Yet he didn’t understand the full force of that intention. None of it would have mattered if he hadn’t met Phillipe. The very thought of how different things might have been made him nauseous. He had never been so certain of the things he had gained. A dream impossible to dissolve. He was intoxicated by freedom — joy gleamed in his eyes more than ever before. And yet, behind every action, it was clear that what propelled him was Phillipe’s presence at his side.

 That afternoon, at the campsite, he waited for Phillipe and asked around for any sign of him. Panic overtook him when he realized he was missing. Venturing into the woods in search of him seemed reckless, but he had no doubt Phillipe would have done the same for him. In a dark place, devoid of inspiration, he had been the lantern that showed him the way out. No one else would have done for his sake what that boy was willing to.

 They discovered each other slowly, timidly. Cautious, the true cause of their pain was never fully spoken aloud. But ever since their scars had been exposed in a sacred pact, their spirits had been intertwined. He was his last hope, and though they knew the days ahead wouldn’t be perfect, they returned home convinced they had done their best. When everything fell apart, he would not let him fall. Even when betrayed by pride or vanity, even if that wasn’t enough to cut the intensity of their bond. Something was about to happen. Leônidas didn’t know what, but he would need to be stronger than ever.