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CHAPTER 19 When Cracks Form into Tears
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 13:56:58 +0000 UTCThe late afternoon sun cast long shadows over Grainwick as David walked along the dirt path, a small bag of coins tucked securely to his belt.
Between all the lessons with Aura and his trainings, time flew by for him – it was hard to believe he had been going at it for almost a year already.
But the results spoke for themselves – the duality of his body reduced greatly, and he was growing stronger day by day. Not to mention he could read simpler passages of ancient language all on his own.
Though he was but a 9-year-old, he felt much more secure.
The faint scent of crushed herbs still clung to his hands from his work earlier, a reminder of why he was heading into the village. Bert was busy with a repair job for the knights, leaving David to handle the errand.
Sophie couldn’t meet their demands on her own, but since knights handled the protection, many more people were able to spend time gathering and working instead of picking up the pieces from long night to another.
It was a minor task, going around and picking up herbs from various houses, but every step into the heart of the village made David’s chest tighten.
The air felt heavier than usual. The usual hum of daily life was strained, conversations hushed and faces tense. It’s always been questionable, the way the knights behaved, but ever since one of them didn’t make it back from the patrol, it got unbelievably worse. No one even knew what killed him.
As David approached the marketplace, a commotion drew his attention. A crowd had gathered near a small farmhouse, the voices sharp and angry. David’s curiosity overrode his unease, and he slipped closer, sticking to the shadows of nearby carts.
In the middle of the gathering, a female knight with sharp features stood, her polished armor marred by dirt and scratches. Her face was twisted in frustration as she squared off against a group of villagers. Among them was a middle-aged man, his frame wiry but steady, and a woman clutching a child protectively to her chest. A younger girl, perhaps a teenager, stood slightly behind them, her face pale but defiant.
“You think you can just say no to us?” the knight barked, his voice loud enough to carry over the murmurs of the crowd. “We bleed to keep you safe, and this is how you repay us? By withholding what we need?”
The man’s jaw tightened; his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We’ve given what we can,” he said, his tone firm despite the edge of fear. “You’ve taken enough. We barely have enough to last the week.”
Another knight joined the argument and sneered. “Then maybe we’ll take something else.” He considered for a moment. “With how long we’ve been forced to station here, we should have been assigned servants long ago. How about her?” He gestured toward the girl. The crowd erupted into shouts of outrage. The girl’s mother pulled her closer, her face a mask of terror.
David’s heart pounded in his chest, his small hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the cart he was hiding behind. He’d heard whispers of knights behaving badly, but this... This was something else. It reminded him of a gang extorting businesses for ‘protection’.
Well, the order did keep Grainwick safe, but wasn’t that their job? The knight made a step towards the girl, his hand outstretched. David’s breath caught as a man lunged forward, shoving the knight away, hard enough to make him stumble.
That was all it took for chaos to break loose. The knight swung his gauntleted hand, striking the villager across the face. Another villager, a younger man, rushed forward, only to be met with the lady knight’s fist.
More figures in armor approached, their expressions ranging from irritation to outright disdain as they formed a loose semicircle around the villagers. Both sides threw some punches, but the villagers got the worst of it by far.
Before the confrontation could escalate further and blood be drawn, a booming voice cut through the chaos. “Enough!” Brenn’s figure loomed over the crowd as he stepped forward, his one-armed presence commanding immediate attention. Sir Viel wasn’t far behind, his calm yet icy demeanor silencing the knights.
“What’s going on here?” Brenn demanded, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. His voice carried the weight of a leader who had seen far too much of this kind of nonsense.
The knight who had started the fight opened his mouth to speak, but Viel raised a hand to silence him. “I’ll hear it from the villagers first,” Viel said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The older villager stepped forward, his face bruised but resolute. “They came demanding food we don’t have,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “And when we refused, they tried to take my daughter.”
A ripple of shock ran through the crowd, but Viel’s expression didn’t change. He turned to the knight, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel. “Is this true?”
The knight hesitated, his bravado faltering. “They were disrespectful, Commander. They need to remember who protects them.”
“And you think assaulting villagers and threatening their families is the way to teach respect?” Viel’s voice was cold, his words laced with disappointment. “You’ve disgraced your station.”
Viel looked back at Brenn. “Separate them,” he said. “Make sure no one else gets involved.”
“As for you…” He turned to the only dame on the scene. “I would have expected more of the heiress of house Dali. You can be sure your mother will hear of this.”
The woman’s face turned beet in anger, but she didn’t talk back. “Yes, Sir.” She was at least smart enough to know when she got caught red-handed.
Brenn nodded, stepping forward to break up the crowd. The villagers dispersed reluctantly; their glares filled with resentment. The knights returned to their quarters, their expressions sour and humiliated.
David lingered, watching as Viel and Brenn spoke privately, in low tones before parting ways. The tension in the air was palpable, a crackling undercurrent that seemed ready to ignite at any moment. For the first time, David truly understood what Bert had been so worried about. The knights weren’t just demanding. They would take by force if pushed. And they were on the edge of open conflict.
As David turned to leave, his gaze flicked to the teenage girl and her family, their shoulders hunched and faces weary. His small fists clenched at his sides, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but the list of victims just kept growing.
He forced himself to walk away and finish the errand he originally set out on. It wasn’t very surprising, that neither Sophie nor the other villagers he visited were in a good mood. All of them observed the situation and all of them had some thoughts to share about it. Rather unpleasant thoughts.
He imagined Aura’s face on the harassed girl and shuddered. Not again. He shook his head to dispel the infuriating visions. I won’t let myself fail a second time. He still had no concrete plan, but every overloaded reagent, every torn muscle brought him closer to something that could stop this. So, if the knights ever approached his household like this, some of them could find themselves poisoned, at the very least.
David knew that his time for preparation was running out. He just didn’t realize it would happen so fast.
-=-=-
Barely a day after the fight in the square, Bert witnessed a noble emissary leaving Brenn’s office. The travel time to the nearest city was much too long for the two events to be connected, but it still felt like an evil omen.
Driven by his unease, he went to ask Brenn about it… From the whole explanation, a single sentence was enough to make him tremble. Pale, he returned home.
Marco was outside, writing in the sand. Good, it’s better if he doesn’t know. He entered the room and saw Aura sitting at the table, her head bent over a notebook.
He had bad news for her. The fragile balance they had clung to for the past year was crumbling and he didn’t know how to approach it.
She was intensely focused, but he knew her a long time. He recognized the way her hand clasped the quill a bit too tightly or how she would slow down writing mid-sentence for no apparent reason. She was trying to distract herself, rather than be productive.
He cleared his throat, breaking the fragile silence. “Aura, we need to talk.”
She glanced up, her brows knitting slightly. “What about?”
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I spoke with Brenn earlier. Sir Viel’s been recalled to the capital. He left earlier today.”
The quill slipped from her fingers, splotching the pages. Her face paled and it took her a while to find words. “Recalled? Why?”
Bert shifted uncomfortably. “There’s been accusations. Something about forcing himself on one of the female knights under him.” His voice was low, steady, but his grip on the edge of the table betrayed his unease. “He has to go clear his name.”
Aura leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant. “And he’s leaving the knights here?”
“Most of them.” Bert’s jaw tightened. “The ones causing the most trouble are staying behind. Calland was given command in his absence, courtesy of the same messenger that brought the order” He paused, his eyes locking onto hers. “That’s why I need you to always stay inside from now on. It’s too risky.”
Aura’s lips parted as if to protest, but she closed them again, her expression softening into something resigned. “You really think it’ll come to that?”
“I don’t want to find out,” Bert said firmly. “The way they’ve been acting… it’s getting worse. And without Viel here to keep them in line...” He shook his head. “I can’t take the chance, Aura. Not with you. Not with Marco.”
She dropped her gaze to her hands, which rested motionless in her lap. “I hate this, Bert.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But even if they don’t recognize you, terrible things could stil happen.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of his words hung heavily between them, settling like dust in the quiet room.
It was the sound of footsteps that broke the silence.
Bert turned his head to see Marco standing in the doorway, his small frame silhouetted against the light from the fireplace. How much did he hear? His expression was unreadable, but his clenched fists spoke volumes.
“How long?” Marco’s voice was quiet, but it carried an edge that cut through the air. “How long are we supposed to hide?”
“Marco,” Aura started, her tone soothing, but Bert raised a hand to stop her.
“As long as it takes,” Bert said evenly, meeting Marco’s gaze. “This isn’t about pride or fairness. It’s about survival.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Is this enough to even be called survival?”
“Marco,” Aura said again, more firmly this time. She rose from her chair and crossed the room to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t forever. Just until things calm down.”
Marco didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at her either. “Things aren’t going to calm down,” he muttered. “Not unless someone does something about it.”
Bert stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “And what do you think you can do?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended. It was hard to believe Marco wasn’t even 10 yet. For some time now, the kid had those… moments, where he could be scaringly intense about things. Especially regarding Aura.
Marco’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing with a fury that made Bert take an involuntary step back. But before he could say anything, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
Bert sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got your delusions of grandeur.” he said, glancing at his wife.
She didn’t smile. “I envy him. I’d like to rage and let it all out too. If only I could make myself believe it would help.”
For a moment, Bert considered going after him, but Aura touched his arm, stopping him. “Give him time,” she said softly. “He’ll come around.”
Bert nodded; She knew their son far better than he did. As Aura returned to her seat, she looked back to her notebook, it’s pages now stained with ink. He watched her movements— slow, determined – Then, she turned back to him with a sharp glint in her eye.
“Actually, our talk isn’t over.” She said, a flicker of light that’s been gone for so long, lighting up her face.
Bert raised a brow and sat beside her; his curiosity piqued. Deep down, he loved her audacity, even when it worried him. And this was the look of Aura who decided to catch the stars in a bottle. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, cautiously leaning forward.
“I’ve been working on a project lately, and I could use your help.” She said.
My help? Bert’s eyes slightly widened. “You mean, like more grocery shopping?”
She chuckled. How he missed that sound. She shook her head. “No. Something slightly more exciting.” Then her lips curved into a playful smile “Have you ever smithed frostfire steel?”
Bert blinked, caught off guard. Only Aura could suggest an impossible task as if she were simply flirting. For the first time in what felt like ages, she had that light on her face. Happiness. He could feel the energy radiating off her; the unyielding spark that made him fall for her in the first place. He loved that look.
He considered asking her about the veritable mountain of materials this would require, until he remembered all the herbs he carried to her shed. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
She laughed, a sound that chased away the gloom that had hung over their home for far too long. “Never.” She looked deep into his eyes. “Do you remember what I asked of you back when you confessed to me?”
As if he could ever forget. “’Will you let me stretch my wings?’ was it?” He chuckled at the memory.
Her eyes were still boring into him, though. “Will you? Will you trust me on this?”
Bert considered it for a short while. With alchemy on the table, this wasn’t an answer to give lightly.
With Viel leaving and the knights growing restless, it seemed like atmosphere would grow even more despondent. Tragedy waited beyond every corner. But here? In their humble home, Aura held a spark. She just needed a little help to grow it to a shining beacon. A beacon of hope.
He leaned closer and answered just like he did back then, kissing her softly. She smiled, her passion taking over… and the rest was history.
