Departing the inn, they meandered through the landscape, engaging in light banter until they reached a grassy plateau nestled among the rolling hills. Boys he recognized from the previous day were gathering. With a warm wave, Gabriel acknowledged each familiar face.
Gabriel settled onto the grass, absentmindedly twirling blades between his fingers, feeling the earth's vitality with each touch.
Before him, a game he hadn’t seen before came alive. Two teams, each comprising of four players, vied for control over a single round ball. A designated ball carrier from one team would attempt to traverse the field to the opposing side. The rest of his teammates worked as defenders, strategizing to protect their runner and clear a path. Meanwhile, the opposing team focused on halting the ball carrier's progress. If the carrier successfully reached the opposite side without being stopped, their team was awarded a point. Then, the roles reversed, and the other team took their turn.
The mix of tactics, teamwork, and raw brutality made the game as exhilarating to watch as it likely was to play.
“Why aren't you out there with them?” Genevieve asked, glancing over at him.
“My feet haven't quite recovered,” he replied, massaging his foot for emphasis.
While his weariness was genuine, it wasn't the entire reason. The game's aggressive nature reminded him of a side of himself he wanted to keep dormant. What if I can’t control myself and hurt someone? The weight of past actions loomed over him. He had caused enough pain already.
He observed the players collide with unabated vigor; their tackles full of raw power. Yet beneath the game's rough exterior was a deep camaraderie, apparent even among rivals. Their laughter and teasing showcased a certain lightness of spirit that eluded him. It wasn’t ignorance but rather a youthful naivete about life's cruelties. He could admire their joy from afar but found it hard to join in, haunted as he was by his past.
Gabriel yearned for the simplicity of their lives. While he would have missed many luxuries, he perhaps would have discovered genuine contentment. He wouldn’t change the world, but he wouldn’t need to. The village would have been his world. A tight-knit community, a proper home, surrounded by friends and family who genuinely cared for one another. He lamented his misfortune to be born a prince. Yet now, I'm more than just a prince; I'm the rightful king of an entire realm. I don’t want it.
One of the more imposing players vaulted over an opponent, landing forcefully on Jack and causing him to lose possession of the ball. He bellowed in triumph, echoed by the cheers of his teammates, while Jack, slightly dazed but smiling broadly, regained his footing.
The triumphant boy's eyes darted towards Genevieve, seeking validation for his prowess. However, upon noticing Gabriel seated beside her, his victorious grin swiftly turned into a resentful scowl.
“He’s jealous, you know,” Gabriel said.
She followed his gaze, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Marcus?”
“He likes you.”
She laughed, disbelieving. “No, he doesn’t.”
Gabriel merely grinned in response. Slowly, he rose to his feet, brushing off the grass and dirt that clung to him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I need to leave.”
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“Leave… as in the entire village?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
He met her gaze, nodding solemnly. “By tomorrow.”
“But why?”
“There are some things I need to do.”
“Where will you go?”
“King’s Crest.”
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Gabriel sat across from Mags, a hearty bowl of rabbit stew before him. Each spoonful felt like a balm to his weary soul, and he savored every bite.
“You can stay, you know,” Mags said, her eyes sincere.
He hesitated, pausing with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “I…”
“You could build a life here,” she continued. “Set up a home nearby. Until then, my door's open to you.”
Torn, he looked into the depths of his stew as if seeking answers. The village's tranquility beckoned him, but the ghosts of the past and a duty to his family held him tight. The thought of those who harmed his mother and the responsibility he felt towards his sister weighed heavily on his heart. They need to pay. I need to save my sister.
“I can’t.”
“There's nothing outside this village but more pain for you.”
Gabriel nodded somberly. “I know.”
“You've seen enough, endured enough,” Mags continued. “I may not know your full story or who you were before this, but you have a chance at peace, at happiness.”
His voice was low, burdened. “I know, but I would hate myself more than I already do each day I stay.”
Mags sighed, leaning back in her chair, her face a portrait of concern.
“I have things I need to do.” He added.
“I’ve seen that look before. It won’t make you feel any better.”
“No, it won’t. But it isn’t about me.”
Accamania will need me. Whoever killed for the throne will be a tyrant, just as bad as my father. I need to give the people something more. I want their lives to be like this quiet little village. Peaceful. I can give them that. I must.
“Do you know what happened to my son?”
Gabriel shook his head gently.
“He wore the uniform and served as a soldier. My boy had such a bright spirit, but the horrors of war gradually drained that light from him. Each time he returned from a deployment, a piece of him was missing. He was set to marry, but the war changed him so much that the nuptials were called off. He faced Accamania on the battlefield a decade ago and didn't return. It took two agonizing months to receive the news, but I had felt it in my bones long before then. I clung to hope, praying that my instincts were wrong, wishing that the boy I raised would return to me, but he never did.”
He watched as a solitary tear fell from her eyes. “How could you be so kind, knowing I’m an Accamanian?”
“Accamania and Balatia are divided merely by moving borders drawn on a map,” she sighed. “There is good and bad in both peoples; I will not judge you based on where you are from, but instead on who you are.”
“I’m not sure who I am anymore,” he admitted softly.
“Not many do. Just remember that there is goodness in this world. Don’t carry that hate with you. It will only weigh you down.”
Gabriel was silent, lost in a sea of thoughts.
“You could build a life here. Find someone, start a family, grow old like me,” she said, punctuating her statement with a warm laugh.
He bowed his head low. “As much as I want to, I can’t. While I’m here, savoring tranquility, others suffer. I can't just stand by.”
She stared at him. “There's nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”
“Mags, you already have changed my mind, but not on this.”
It was true. He had started seeing the world through a lens of darkness. He would have been ready to tear down anyone in his path of vengeance. But the kindness he found in this village, especially from Mags, had been a glimmer of hope, a reminder that there were still kind souls worth fighting for. The people don’t deserve to be punished for my pain.
“You’ve done more for me than you could ever know.” he slid off his ring, an item so valuable it could buy this house, and placed it gently on the table. “I wish I could give you more. You deserve more.”
“Orion, I don’t need any payment. I gave it freely.”
“Then this is freely given, too. Just a piece of metal and stone. Take it. Perhaps it can assist the next lost soul who finds their way to your door.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes and gently insisted, “Please.”
With a reluctant nod, she accepted. Then she leaned in, planting a tender kiss on his forehead. “Remember, you’re a good soul, Orion. Don’t let the past define you.”
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Gabriel treaded along another trail, casting one last lingering glance back at the village that had offered him a glimpse of a tranquil life. A place where he felt he might have finally grasped that fleeting sense of happiness.
Just that morning, Mags had prepared him a hearty breakfast and handed him a cistern of water and a pouch brimming with food. Once more, Gabriel bid farewell to someone he had grown fond of, leaving behind a sanctuary. Ahead lay another journey. It might not promise peace or happiness, but it was a path he felt compelled to tread.