Gabriel's life had settled into a monotonous cycle: eat, train, read, repeat. This routine had taken a toll on him, exhausting his energy reserves. His weakness to blood had not abated, despite Ser Rodrick's words. On four different occasions, he had found himself retching at the sight of blood, whether it was his own or someone else's. It was as if his body and mind were in constant conflict, unable to find harmony. If anything, Gabriel's instincts to detect blood had only grown sharper, a heightened sensitivity that he didn’t understand. His body was rebelling at the notion of violence, and he longed to break free.
One day, after a particularly grueling conditioning session, Ser Rodrick let them off early. He took advantage of this unexpected break in his relentless routine, paying a visit to the castle’s tranquil eastern courtyard. Interconnected paved stones led to a fountain of Victra in the center.
Gabriel was greeted by the soothing sound of water cascading over the cool marble statue, offering him momentary respite. The melody of nature surrounded him—the cheerful chirping of birds that nestled among the pruned trees, their carefree songs a reminder of a world untouched by the struggles he faced. Gabriel allowed himself to be captivated by the thought of liberation, imagining what it would be like to soar through the skies, unburdened and unrestricted. At least the Velictra’s are free, even if I can’t be.
The birds were named after the goddess herself, exuding her glory. The clear blue sky was glowing with a unique array of iridescent colors. The Velictras shone as the rays of sunlight reflected on their feathers. They were an omen of good, that the path ahead would be illuminated. Gabriel marveled at their beauty, mesmerized by their presence, he embraced the calmness of the courtyard.
The courtyard was a refreshing contrast to the previous month. The search for the witch had been the talk of the kingdom. Through fearful whispers, citizens spread rumors of her dark powers and the havoc she wreaked. Days had turned into weeks as they scoured villages, interrogated locals, and followed any lead that hinted at the witch's whereabouts. The land held its breath, waiting for news of the capture that would bring relief.
There had always been search parties for witches, but the scope of this one surpassed any Gabriel had seen before. It seemed both the church and the king wanted to make an example of a follower of Ash after the sermon that had stirred the kingdom's collective consciousness.
When the search party finally returned, Gabriel, eager for answers, sought out the first warrior he could find. The man's sunburnt face and tired eyes reflected the toll the expedition had taken.
“Empty-handed,” the warrior had confessed with a heavy sigh. “There were rumors and sightings, but we couldn’t find anything. It’s as if she vanished into thin air, leaving only whispers behind.”
The news of the failed hunt had brought a strange sense of relief to Gabriel, although he would never admit it out loud. The witch's elusiveness deepened the mystery. It made him question whether she possessed powers beyond their understanding—or if she was merely a figment of their collective imagination.
The warrior continued, recounting the eerie incidents that occurred during their search. “Some of the men claimed to see shadows moving in the night, hearing whispers that echoed through the trees.”
A chill ran down Gabriel's spine as he listened to the account. Supernatural phenomena had always unnerved him.
The warrior's voice dropped to a hushed tone. “One of our own, a brave and seasoned soldier, swore he saw demons lurking in the shadows. He was tormented by nightmares, convinced that the witch had cursed him. He said it was as if the very air was charged with an otherworldly presence.”
The failed hunt had not only left the kingdom without answers, but also created a perception of weakness in the face of perceived supernatural threats. Hushed doubts had begun to emerge regarding the king's ability to protect his people. The kingdom was left in a state of unease and uncertainty.
Much had come to pass in the last month. Gabriel felt depleted. He was unable to fully engage in his true passion. His joy for reading had slowly returned, the pain of Tunklard’s departure lightening. But the wax candles that once melted away as he read now burned slowly, and he found himself dousing the flame far too often as his eyes betrayed him. The book his tutor had given him held a treasure trove of knowledge. From the start, Gabriel had understood its significance as a gift from his friend. Now, he was starting to understand the significance of the deep meaning within the text.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Whoever Tunklard’s master was, they possessed unparalleled wisdom and insight. Merely a dozen pages in, the book had already presented him with numerous moral dilemmas—topics he yearned to discuss with his absent friend. The pages that continued to visit his daydreams regarded individual responsibility in the face of social injustice. Intent versus outcome, the impact of helping the few at the expense of the many—these questions swirled endlessly in his mind. Troubled by the king’s tyranny, Gabriel weighed his role in promoting justice. He wondered how he could make a difference, if at all.
For now, Gabriel pushed those thoughts aside, finding solace in the present moment as he sat cross-legged upon the warm stones of the courtyard. He closed his eyes, savoring the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves, caressing his hair and soothing his troubled mind. He found himself longing for the life he once had. Reflecting on the idea of perspective, he realized that his past desires for a better life had often overshadowed the joys he already possessed.
As he gazed upon the statue of Victra, he contemplated. Am I making the same mistake now? Months or years from now will I look back and long for days such as these? How can my life become any more difficult? The training had left an indelible mark. It wasn’t the physical blows or the humiliation that hurt him the most; it was the damage inflicted upon his principles.
Before he’d embarked on this journey, Gabriel had promised himself that he wouldn't fully apply himself, that he would only pretend to learn. However, circumstances had compelled him to embrace the training, and he couldn't ignore the undeniable enjoyment he found in the pursuit of skills that served only one purpose—death. Grappling with guilt, he felt a deep sense of shame. Not long ago, he would never have imagined yearning for the physical exertion of combat. What am I becoming?
Gabriel sat there for what felt like hours, the tempest in his mind calming.
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“Wake up.”
A voice startled Gabriel, pulling him from his slumber. Blinking his eyes open, he found himself lying on his back in the courtyard. The sun was already setting, casting a crimson hue across the sky. Standing above him was Jessinta, her golden curls framing her face, her breath slightly labored.
“You couldn't have woken me more gently?” Gabriel groaned.
Jessinta simply smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Serves you right for making me look for you. Also, why are you being so weird and sleeping on the ground?”
Rubbing his eyes to shake off the grogginess, Gabriel asked, “Why were you looking for me?” He didn’t reply to her question. It’s not as if I intended to sleep on the floor like some vagabond.
“Maybe I was bored,” Jessinta said.
Gabriel chuckled, finding her impatience endearing. “I’m guessing Lovren is still away with your father.”
Jessinta's smile faltered slightly. “Can't I just want to spend time with my friend?”
“That's a yes, then,”
Jessinta looked down, picking at her nails. “They should have been back by now,” she confessed, “I'm worried about them.”
Gabriel knew that Lovren and Lord Carnahy were away on another trip. Meeting with the merchant guild to negotiate a new deal on behalf of the king. He tried to reassure her. “Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be fine. It's just a routine journey.”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, it’s not, that’s just the excuse they needed to use.” She paused, hesitant to say more.
Gabriel's curiosity was piqued. “Why did they need an excuse? You can tell me,” he said earnestly. Jessinta’s grim expression was at odds with her usual happy demeanor. He didn’t like seeing her like this.
She paused before saying, “The king asked my father to investigate Lord Loftus and his claims about the crops being ruined by the long winter. They should have returned yesterday.”
Gabriel's mind began to race. Over the past month, he had heard whispers about the king's growing anger toward the nobles and their dwindling incomes. Of course, the king would never openly admit such things, but Gabriel had learned to pick up on the murmurs circulating within the court.
“Don't worry, Jess,” he said. “Lord Carnahy is a wise man. If he thought it was dangerous, he wouldn't have taken Lovren with him.”
Jessinta frowned. “You're right. My father wants Lovren to succeed him one day, but he wouldn't put his safety at risk.” She paused, a flicker of concern still present. “And yet, I still feel worried.”
Gabriel could sense her inner struggle and wrapped his arms around her, hoping to bring her comfort. “It's going to be alright,” he said softly, his words filled with conviction. He felt her nod against his chest. “I'll speak to my mother and find out if she knows anything.”
She stepped back from his embrace, tears glistening in her eyes. “Thank you, Gabriel. I'm just so nervous.”
Gabriel couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.