The following day, the battered remnants of Division Eight—Richerd, Alex, and the gravely wounded Rudra—arrived at the capital.
By sunrise, word had already spread.
The boy wreathed in blue flames had become the talk of the city overnight.
Whispers painted him as a hero, a monster, a cursed child—no one seemed certain which.
Alex, however, cared little for the gossip.
All he saw in his mind was the sight of Rudra, bleeding and unconscious, crumpled in the aftermath of that battlefield.
By evening, unable to rest, he made his way to Richerd's mansion.
---
The Visit
Rudra lay motionless in a dim, candlelit chamber, the capital's finest healers bent over him. Incense curled in the air, trying—and failing—to mask the metallic scent of blood. Alex lingered at the threshold only long enough to confirm the boy was breathing, then turned to the maid.
> Alex: "Tell my brother I'm here. I need to speak to him."
The maid bowed.
> Maid: "My lord is in the library. He said you'd come."
She led Alex through polished corridors, past walls hung with oil paintings of old merchants and battlefields, until the heavy oak doors of the library groaned open.
---
The Library
Rows upon rows of towering shelves stood like silent witnesses. The air smelled faintly of dust, parchment, and the faint burn of candle oil.
Alex stopped in his tracks.
> Alex (under his breath): "I never knew he had this many books…"
At the far end, Richerd sat surrounded by precarious stacks of tomes, his hands riffling through pages with an almost feverish focus.
> Alex: "Brother. I'm here to talk."
Richerd: "I knew you would come."
Alex allowed himself a small smirk.
> Alex: "No wonder you're the most famous merchant in the western provinces—you read people like ledgers."
Richerd: "And you're here for Rudra."
---
The Third Seat at the Table
Before Alex could answer, Richerd closed the book in his hands with a dull thud.
> Richerd: "Wait. I want someone else to hear this. You should too."
He rang for a maid.
> Richerd: "Tell my wife, Victoria, I need her in the library immediately."
---
Victoria arrived moments later, her silk gown whispering against the floor. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of her husband's fortress of books.
> Victoria: "What's happened? Why summon me in such a rush?"
Richerd: "Rudra. And what we should do next."
---
Victoria's Awakening
As Alex recounted the mission—how a simple investigation spiraled into a blood-soaked nightmare, how Rudra had unleashed a force that crushed everything before him—Victoria listened in silence.
But something stirred inside her.
Her heart, which she had long guarded against him, began to ache.
She had never hated Rudra… but she had refused to claim him as her own.
He wasn't her blood.
He was the child of strangers who had abandoned him in the woods to die.
From the start, Richerd had kept Rudra's past from her, and she had not asked.
But as Alex spoke, fragments of her own childhood bled into her thoughts—memories she had buried deep.
She saw herself as a little girl again, sitting in her mother's lap in a crumbling, wind-beaten house. Outside, the world was barren, gray, and cruel. Inside, her mother's arms were the only warmth.
> Victoria (younger): "Mommy… why are children so important to mothers?"
Her Mother: smiling faintly, stroking her hair "I used to ask my mother the same thing. And she told me… parents do not choose their children. It is the child who chooses their parents—drawn to them by a bond so pure, so warm, it cannot be explained."
Her mother's voice trembled with something Victoria could not yet name.
> Her Mother: "You'll understand when you are one."
Back then, Victoria had smiled through childish certainty.
> Young Victoria: "When I'm a mother, I'll be the best one in the world."
But fate had been cruel—she had never been able to bear a child.
Perhaps that was why she had rejected Rudra at first.
Perhaps, in her heart, she had believed that he had not chosen her.
And yet now…
Now she understood that bonds forged by love could run deeper than blood.
The realization broke something inside her.
Her eyes burned. She rose from her seat, pressing trembling hands to her face. Richerd and Alex watched in silence.
> Richerd (gently): "Don't be sad, my love. We can't change the past… but we can shape the future."
She collapsed into his arms, sobbing—not with the restrained grief of a lady, but with the raw, unguarded wail of someone who had carried a truth too long.
> Victoria: "It's my fault. I saw how broken he was inside. Only a mother's love could have healed that. But I refused to give it. If I had just taken his hand… maybe he would have chosen another path. Maybe I could have stopped that hatred from taking root."
Richerd stroked her hair.
> Richerd: "He still has you. He still has us. And he is not alone."
---
The Plan
Alex, his own face shadowed, broke the moment.
> Alex: "That may be true. But my unit is in chaos. Everyone's talking about Rudra—not with admiration, but fear. They think he's a monster. I can't blame them… remembering that day still gives me chills. If I could forget it, I would."
Richerd's eyes sharpened.
> Richerd: "Then perhaps we make them forget."
Alex frowned.
> Alex: "Don't be absurd. That's impossible."
Richerd: "Was the fight with Grave not impossible? And yet it happened."
He explained—a spell, dangerous but effective, that could erase the very existence of someone from the memories of others.
> Alex: "Why Rudra entirely? Can't you just erase that day?"
Richerd: "No. It doesn't work that way. But it's the only way to protect him now."
Alex ground his teeth.
> Alex: "If it's for him… do it. Just make sure it works."
Richerd nodded.
> Richerd: "Then you handle the witnesses. I'll deal with your soldiers. Victoria—see to Rudra. I want him healed, smiling again, as soon as possible."
As Alex left for Division Eight's headquarters and Victoria for Rudra's bedside, Richerd turned back to his books.
The candles burned low, casting long, trembling shadows over the shelves, as if the library itself knew the weight of the choice they had just made.