Aveline teleported them back to the cottage and invited the lieutenant inside for a cup of tea. Lyam dictated to him what to write in the letter as his reply to Mamie's question. After they were done, the old man looked at him with a mix of apprehension and sadness. Aveline was quietly frowning.

Nicolas cleared his throat before he said, “I-I'm sorry…for what happened to your father,” he said quietly.

Lyam just shrugged. “It happened to hundreds of other children, I'm sure.”

Aveline frowned deeper. But remained quiet.

Nicolas hesitated before speaking again. “I'll get going then.” He rose from the chair. Lyam got a feeling that the old man wanted to say something more but was probably hesitant. “I'll deliver the letter to your mamie. Keep practising your Focus trident till our next lesson.”

Then the lieutenant left.

###

When Nicolas came back to Eisdel, he found Alda Laurent at the entrance of his office. She made her way up to him when she saw him arrive. Before she could say anything, he handed her the letter. “This is his reply.”

Alda took the letter and opened it hastily. Just like the previous letter she had received, this one was also written in the lieutenant's confident hand. She read the contents and froze in her spot.

Her fingers gripped the piece of paper tightly and her mouth trembled. “It's…it's really Lyam…he's alive…” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

The lieutenant was watching her. The look of shock on her face made him pause as well. He anxiously swallowed a lump in his throat before he finally spoke up. “So, it's true?” he asked. “He really is the son of Alexandre Laurent?”

“Yes. Infuriatingly so.”

###

7 years ago.

Little Emma had been wailing in her cradle, calling out for someone to come and hold her. Alda picked up the child in her arms and soothed her gently.

“Mamie! Father is leaving,” Lyam called out from the sitting room in his thin squeaky voice.

Alda sighed and reluctantly went out to bid her son farewell. He was dressed in his chainmail and his half-helm was under his arm. He would probably put on his armor once he got to the castle for the briefing.

Alda couldn't meet his eyes. Alexandre smiled at her. Without another word, he walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her. Little Emma's whimpers stopped when she felt her father’s warmth. Lyam joined the three of them in the hug.

Alda clenched her jaw and stepped back from the embrace. “Don't make this seem like a reassurance,” she said to her son. “If you are going to leave, you should at least tell the truth to your children.”

“You know I can't do that,” Alexandre said, “they aren't prepared for it. Not to mention it's an utterly hopeless thing to say to a child.”

Alda scoffed. “You are about to go to war. Yet you sound like an utter coward.”

“What happened, mamie?” Lyam asked, looking up between both the adults. “Is father not going to come back from war?”

Alda knit her brows and looked away, her arms were clutching Emma tighter. Alexandre looked down at the boy and ruffled his hair. Then he turned to walk towards the door.

Alda glared at him. “Don't be a coward, Alex,” she said. “The boy asked a question. Even if you can't give him a straight answer, at least tell him something.”

Alexandre paused, looked back at the boy. “I'm not the man you think I am, son,” he said. “But whether or not I come back, I want you to know one thing, I'm doing this for you and Emma. I'm doing this so that neither of you have to become like me.” Then he picked up his spear and left the house.

Alda knew that he would never return. And he never did. All that came back was his helm and spear, delivered by those he had fought alongside in the Great Cleansing.

According to his wish, they had both the objects adorn his grave in Eisdel. She didn't want the spear to be in their house. Soon after the war was over and Alexandre’s funeral was concluded, she left Eisdel with both the children on a quiet night. That way she didn't have to deal with anyone asking where they were headed and if they needed any help getting there.

She had prepared for their journey beforehand. They carried everything they could in a single cart with a mule she’d bought by selling off one of Alex’s chainmail and dagger.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Twenty miles from the city of Eisdel was a village named Vermeil. Its commerce mainly depended on farming barley and oats. A single merchant family handled affairs of lending money. And despite being rich, they were quite lenient with how they charged interest on their loans.

The Laurents could've easily asked for a plot of land simply based on the fact that they came from a family of a wielder. The Crown had made a provision that allowed those families to get cheaper housing and assistance to start a trade if the wielder was retired. But that wasn't the way Alda and Alex had decided how to do things.

They had to sever all ties of dust wielding from their family. So Alda avoided all social gatherings, because that’s where your past is dug up under the false pretense of "socializing". And she remained quiet and sternly evasive when someone tried asking about the children’s parents. She'd sworn to Alex to keep the children safe and far away from magic and Lurents' history with it. She meant to keep that vow till her last breath.

The fact that the old woman's face was hardened from the tough life she had lived only added another layer of intimidation to her presence. It also helped that she knew her way around a meat cleaver like she was born with the blade in her hand. So people didn't get in her way much as a general thing.

Alda appreciated the solitude. The silence gave her enough time to grieve over her son's death. At the same time it also made her bitter about everything that she had been through. Vermeil brought peace to her little family. But her grandchildren had to lose both their parents along the way.

And it didn't help that she had to keep so many secrets from them. Just for the sake of giving them a normal life, she had to keep reminding them how magic hadn't been enough to save their parents’ lives. How the Crown was a selfish monolith that feasted on the blood of commoners. How they had built their castles on the corpses of their own soldiers. How the Triumphant Day was nothing but a joke in face of all the deaths and destruction seven years ago.

Thus Lyam and Emma grew up thinking of magic as a monster under their beds, ready to pull them into the dark. That was the way the commoners were supposed to live, in fear of the almighty power that ruled over them all. That was how they appreciated the mundane way of living.

That was what Alexandre wanted, to stop his children from following in his footsteps. To live the so-called normal life, away from the influence of the Crown and magic. Everything had been going exactly how they'd planned.

Until the fire happened.

###

Present day.

Alda kept reading the words in the letter over and over. A part of her almost didn't want this to be Lyam. She would've been happier if this had all been some kind of conspiracy. But the words on the page were as true as the wrinkles on her hand.

“...I’m doing this so neither of you become like me,”

This was indeed her Lyam, speaking to her from the words on the page. Speaking the words of his father. She kept staring at the writing until her tears dripped down on it, dampening the ink. She couldn't even tell if she was happy that her grandchildren were alive or sad if she still wasn't going to see them. The tears just kept coming.

“Lady Laurent, are you crying?” the enforcer asked.

“Stop!” she snapped, whirling away from Nicolas. “Don't look at me. Just don't.” Alda leaned by the wall and kept crying.

Nicolas looked at her hesitantly, trying to give the space she needed to pull herself together. But he also felt a sense of awkwardness coming over him.

He had seen the state in which the boy's sister was. Lyam had told him why it was important to keep it all a secret from his grandmother, told him how her concern for them would ruin her.

The enforcer felt like an outsider knowing all this. Looking at the misery the old woman was in, he wondered if he could do anything for her. He only realized that the best he could do was to keep her in the dark. So he kept quiet and did the next best thing he could do--he offered her his handkerchief.

She reluctantly took it from him and blew her nose. “Why is he doing this?” she said with a sniffle. “Why is he acting like a man? He is just twelve!”

Nicolas cleared his throat. “Although, he is twelve, he is becoming a man.”

“Bullshit!” She clenched her fists. “Everything that I did all these years was to make sure nothing like this happened…and yet…”

“Lady Laurent, you couldn't have kept him from becoming a man forever,” Nicolas said. “I…I never got married or had children but all I can say is…you should give him a chance.”

“Chance for what?!” Alda snapped.

Nicolas looked at her, holding back a flinch. “A chance to prove himself. He has told you in his letter that he'll return. Give him some time to find his way back.”

###

That evening, Aveline arrived at the waterfall again. She had told Lyam she had to work on the wards some more--her usual excuse.

She pulled out the yellow sapphire from her satchel and gripped it tightly. “I'm here!” she called out.

Did you bring Norben? the voice from the waterfall spoke in her head.

“Not yet,” she winced as the words echoed in her head. She wasn't sure she could ever get used to it. “But I had something important to tell you.”

Well, I'm listening.

“The boy…he is Alexandre Laurent's son,” she said.

There was a long pause. Then the voice said, Who?

Aveline rolled her eyes. “The Alexandre Laurent. He slayed a hundred shapecrafters alone in the Great Cleansing.”

After another long pause, the voice gave a chuckle that sounded like rocks tumbling down a cliff, Ah, him. Now I remember. Even though all my memories are like half-forgotten dreams, I remember the man. The Warbreaker is what they called him, if I'm not wrong.

Aveline nodded, frowning deeply. “It almost makes sense now why the boy was able to resist the temptation of an unanchored dust bloom. He also managed to fight off a psychokinetic wielder. And he is still just a chimera.”

Fascinating. If the blood of the Warbreaker flows in him, I want to see what he becomes after achieving basilisk. He might even go beyond.

“You'd told me there is nothing but insanity beyond basilisk,” Aveline said cautiously.

There is indeed insanity beyond basilisk. But there's a possibility he may find something else. Destiny seems to have taken a fancy towards him…