The Companion Next Door
This is the story of a world saved from darkness.
Years ago, a hero appeared and rescued the world from the shadow of Nyx, the Goddess of Destruction, who had sought to engulf everything.
He defeated the Death King Thanatos, who was said to appear before the end, thereby saving the Ayman Kingdom. He sealed the Evil Dragon Tiamat and was acknowledged at Asgard, the sanctuary of the gods, as the rightful wielder of the holy sword Grandias.
Alongside his companions, he ascended the Tower of Destruction. After a fierce final battle, he drove Grandias into Nyx’s throat and averted the world’s end.
The world erupted in celebration. There was no one left who did not know the names of the hero and his companions.
Afterward, the hero held a grand wedding with Aegina, the princess of the Ayman Kingdom and his companion-turned-lover. People believed he would become the next king. Yet he declined the throne. Honoring Aegina’s wish to live freely, he returned with her to his quiet hometown.
My name is Anak.
I am the hero’s companion—the one who has lived next door to him since childhood.
I first moved in next door to the hero twenty years ago.
It was around the time I had begun to understand my own talent. Our village was so small it didn’t even appear on maps—fewer than a hundred people lived there. One might think talent wouldn’t amount to much in such a place, yet even I must admit I possessed an extraordinary gift.
A wandering mage once performed a summoning spell to entertain the villagers. I was only nine, but simply by repeating the incantation I overheard, I managed to call forth five lesser spirits. That was no ordinary feat.
For a while after that, I became the center of the village. Lying in bed at night, I would dream—perhaps a little arrogantly—of studying magic properly and one day serving as a court mage in some grand castle.
Before I could truly reflect on my talent or even enjoy the attention, he appeared.
Yes—the very same boy who would later be called the hero, who would save the world, marry the princess, refuse the crown, and return to this countryside: Rowell, the hero of light.
One day, a single modest carriage arrived in our village. It was the cheapest, most ordinary rental carriage available, yet the people who stepped out of it were anything but ordinary.
I still remember it clearly. The first to descend were a young couple who looked like husband and wife. Their clothes were plain, but the dignity they carried could not be hidden.
Even we, who had never seen nobles before, instantly recognized them as such. The old saying that noble blood runs blue didn’t seem entirely false—they truly seemed like beings from another world. And behind them shone a light.
“Hello?”
Without hesitation or discomfort, they bowed politely and greeted us first. Faced with that gesture, the villagers and I found ourselves lowering our heads almost to the ground.
Just as awkwardness began to show on their faces, a boy who looked almost like a doll peeked out from behind them. His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
He glanced around, then spotted me staring at him. With a bright smile, he ran over and took my hand.
“Hi! I’m Rowell! Let’s be friends!”
“Ah—y-yes!”
I could only nod, barely able to speak.
That was how Rowell and I first met.
Later I learned that Rowell’s father, Sir Levrant, had been the captain of a royal guard in some kingdom. He had been stripped of his rank and fortune after being caught in a power struggle and forced into exile.
From then on, the center of the village shifted to the couple and their son, Rowell. Their gentle natures and noble bearing played a part, but it was Rowell’s fearless, friendly way of approaching everyone first that won the hearts of young and old alike.
He was like the sun—warming everything around him, drawing all toward his light, yet impossible for anyone to approach too closely.
That radiance was a talent no one could imitate. Of course, it wasn’t his only talent.
When we turned twelve, Rowell and I were able to attend an academy in a nearby city. While Rowell’s admission was expected, a commoner like me should never have been allowed in. It was only possible because Count Hamil, the academy’s administrator, was a close friend of Sir Levrant.
We had already learned basic knowledge and noble etiquette from Sir Levrant, so pretending to be nobles wasn’t difficult. Still, the sight of real nobles inside the academy came as a shock to me.
To my surprise, nobles weren’t so different from ordinary people after all. Unlike Rowell’s family, many of them were foolish, narrow-minded, or simply petty.
Only then did I realize it wasn’t nobles who were special—it was Rowell’s family that was extraordinary.
As expected, Rowell shone brightest even at the academy. Swordsmanship, magic, academics—he excelled in everything. Students and teachers alike adored him.
Three years later, when we had completed our studies, I was packing my belongings to return to the village.
Graduates who were true nobles received official positions directly from the academy, but that privilege didn’t apply to me. Rowell, however, had already received offers from both the Royal Knights and the Court Mages. As the academy’s top student for three consecutive years, he could have secured a high-ranking post within a few years if he wished.
Yet he didn’t hesitate.
“Haven’t finished packing yet?”
He cast aside every opportunity without a second thought and returned to the village with me.
After that, everything unfolded as the world now knows. The Goddess of Destruction Nyx’s arrival was announced, and the Death King Thanatos and his army plunged the entire world into terror.
The villagers wanted to abandon our defenseless home and flee to the fortified city of Slass. But Rowell and I stopped them. An army that carried death in its wake wouldn’t bother with a tiny rural village hidden in the woods.
Their goal was to eliminate any possibility of resistance before Nyx descended. They would target the places people believed were safest—the great empires, powerful kingdoms, saints, and heroes.
We told them the wisest choice was to stay hidden in the village. When even Sir Levrant supported our reasoning, the villagers reluctantly unpacked.
Then, once the exodus had been prevented, Rowell suddenly turned to me and said:
“Anak. Come with me.”
I couldn’t understand what he meant. Where could we possibly go in a time like this? Staying quietly in the village was the safest option, just as we had told everyone else.
“The world is facing destruction. We have to help!”
He spoke with absolute conviction. It wasn’t childish bravado or reckless courage. He didn’t even claim he could save the world single-handedly.
Fear was clearly visible in his eyes, along with attachment to his parents and the village. Yet the thought of the world and its people being in danger was something he simply could not endure.
I was different. I was terrified. I couldn’t imagine fighting the Demon King’s army or the coming destruction. Even if the end arrived, even if countless people died, all I wanted was to survive until the very last moment.
I had stopped the villagers from leaving for my own sake. I had merely shared the plan I devised for my own safety.
Rowell, however, had stopped them for their sake—and now he wanted to save the world itself.
“Anak!”
As always, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse the light in his eyes. Even if it meant a moth flying into the flame, I could never turn away from that radiance.
And so I became the hero’s companion.
“Anak! Are you still asleep?”
The same bright, cheerful voice as always. When Rowell opened the door and stepped inside, the past overlapped with the present, and I finally rose from my seat.
“Of course not. I was already awake.”
My voice, the first I had heard that day, sounded nothing like his. It was listless, as though something essential were missing. I hated the sound of it.
“Then why aren’t you coming down for breakfast? You know we’re all waiting for you.”
He spoke playfully and tugged at my arm. Ever since we defeated Nyx and returned home, they had never once started breakfast without me.
“Right. Sorry.”
I forced a playful apology and began dressing. This was their consideration—another small kindness they offered the one left alone. I had no choice but to be grateful.
Just as I finished putting on my clothes, Rowell spoke carefully.
“By the way, Anak… you’d better steel yourself today.”
I dropped the hat I had just picked up. He rarely said things like that.
“…Don’t tell me—”
“……”
Rowell couldn’t answer. He only averted his gaze toward the window. So it was exactly what I feared.
“…Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Sorry. Aegina woke up early today.”
“…I see. Can’t be helped, then.”
I took a small medicine bottle from the drawer and shook out several pills. One I handed to Rowell, who had already extended his hand, and the rest I slipped into my pocket—the best preparation I could manage.