A Background Character’s Path to Power Chapter 183: Memories of a Father [2]

"Then there was another ti," the baron continued, his gaze distant, "when he took on five cave goblins alone to buy ti for his classmates to escape during a field trip. Strangely, his classmates completely forgot he was even with them."

"And when their teachers realized he was missing, they searched everywhere, the entire forest, before finding him staggering out on his own, uniform in tatters, looking like he’d bathed in his own blood..."

The table fell into a heavy silence.

The candlelight seed to dim as the weight of the baron’s words settled over them.

Even the usual background sounds of the castle - the distant creak of wood, the faint whistle of wind against the obsidian reinforcents - seed to fade away.

After a long mont, the baron cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around his water glass. "The teachers... they must have been so terrified that when they found him that so of them actually fainted." His voice carried a bitter edge. "But instead of being grateful, they labeled him a ’monster.’ His classmates avoided him even more after that. The school officials..."

He let out a dry chuckle.

"They had the audacity to suggest we transfer him to another institution, claiming it was because he was ’too advanced’ for their curriculum. As if we couldn’t see through their hypocrisy."

Aeron’s knuckles whitened around his fork, his golden eyes flashing with quiet anger. Lumin’s normally composed expression darkened slightly, while Zephyr’s gaze grew more intense, though he remained silent.

"But you know what?" The baron’s voice ward with pride. "He proved them all wrong. Scored in the top three in the kingdom’s royal academy entrance exams. By the end of his first sester, he’d climbed to first rank."

A genuine smile touched his lips.

"Not that we were surprised. That boy spent every waking mont either training in the courtyard or buried in books in the library. His mother used to joke that we’d need to drag him out by his ankles just to get him to eat dinner."

The baron’s expression softened further as he looked at Aeron. "Then... well, you know the rest. He earned that scholarship to your academy. Packed his bags with more books than clothes." His voice grew quieter. "Left the kingdom with that sa determined look he always had when setting his mind to sothing."

The candlelight flickered across the baron’s face as his gaze grew distant, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass absently. "And..."

"...That was the last ti we saw him."

A heavy silence descended upon the dining hall, thicker than before.

Aeron stared at his clenched fists, his al forgotten. Zephyr sat perfectly still, his silver lashes lowered. Lumin’s spoon lay abandoned beside his bowl, his usually composed features drawn a bit tight.

After what felt like an eternity, Aeron’s voice cut through the quiet, raw with emotion. "I’m... I’m sorry." His golden eyes shone with unshed tears. "Sorry, I couldn’t help that day. If I’d been stronger... maybe he wouldn’t have had to..." His voice broke. "He..."

"...I’m sorry as well." Zephyr bowed stiffly from his seat, his normally impassive face showing rare emotion. "My condolences."

Lumin placed a hand over his heart. "I apologize too." A pause. "And offer my belated condolences."

The baron regarded each of them in turn, his expression softening. "Thank you all," he said quietly, "but you don’t have to apologize. What was ant to happen, happened. There’s no turning back the tides of fate." He took a slow breath. "Everyone ets their end soday."

The fire crackled in the hearth as he continued, his voice gaining strength. "And yet... though it pains ... I find so solace knowing he lived as he wished. He protected people. Made true friends..." His gaze lingered on each of them. "Friends like you."

The baron’s eyes flicked upward, and though his gaze remained the color of storm clouds, there was sothing warr behind them now, like the stubborn glow of a hearth fire holding back the winter’s bite.

"I think..." he continued, his voice rough yet steady, "if he were here... he would want to thank you." His calloused fingers brushed against his glass. "For standing by him. For rembering him as he truly was - not as so monster or even as a hero, but just as Amaniel."

Aeron swallowed hard, his golden eyes glistening in the candlelight. Zephyr’s posture, usually so rigid, softened almost imperceptibly. Lumin’s slender fingers curled gently around his spoon again, as if drawing comfort from its familiar weight.

The baron exhaled slowly, the lines of his face easing. "He’d probably tell so terrible joke to lighten the mood too," he added, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Sothing about carrots being good only when they weren’t cooked, no doubt."

Another round of chuckles spread through the room. The atmosphere beca a bit warr, but the conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence.

The trio exchanged knowing glances - they recognized the baron’s efforts to maintain his composed deanor, the way his fingers occasionally tightened around his glass despite his calm expression. They didn’t doubt his words, but the weight of unspoken grief hung between them like the candle smoke curling toward the ceiling.

When the last crumbs had been cleared from their plates, Aeron and Lumin rose first. "Goodnight, Lord Nusayel," Aeron said with a respectful bow, his golden eyes reflecting both understanding and concern.

"Rest well," Lumin added, his gentle voice carrying genuine warmth as he inclined his head.

The baron nodded to them both. "Sleep well."

As their footsteps faded down the corridor, Zephyr remained seated, his silver eyes fixed on the dying embers in the hearth. When the silence stretched long enough, he reached into his inner pocket with deliberate slowness.

The baron’s storm-gray eyes tracked the movent, widening slightly when Zephyr produced a slightly crumpled envelope. The paper was worn at the edges, the wax seal bearing Amaniel’s personal insignia - a sword crossed with a quill.

"This was found in his room," Zephyr said, his voice unusually soft. "They asked to deliver it." A pause. "Actually, it was ant for Lady Luthaire...but I thought it better you receive it now."

The baron’s breath hitched as he took the letter, his calloused fingers tracing the familiar handwriting with unconscious tenderness. For a long mont, he simply stared at his son’s na written across the parchnt, his thumb brushing over the wax seal that had never been broken.

"...Thank you."