44 - Apologize

Elric couldn’t help but smile at the scene, getting teary-eyed himself.
It had taken some work to accomplish this surprise. First, he’d had to find Torv Blacksoil, which was not an easy feat. Almost six years ago, during a particularly bad onslaught by the Mossgiants, Torv’s squad had been separated from the rest of the defensive battalion and had fallen into the sea.
They were presumed dead, but no one alerted the family, as no one wanted to make the call in case, by some miracle, they survived.
Which they did.
Torv and some others in his squad lived and washed up on the shores of Themyrra, home of the Whispering Willows. They were another Vitae-dominant tribe who were purely forest dwellers and somewhat primitive. After they nursed Torv and his squad back to health, they informed them that while most could leave, one of them would have to stay behind to work off the debt they had accumulated with the tribe.
They needed a warrior of their own, a protector who would fight on their behalf against the other tribes. To ensure that Torv’s team complied, they told them that they’d performed a ritual while they were unconscious, and that ritual was part of the reason they managed to survive drowning and their grievous injuries.
If none of them stayed behind, the ritual would ensure they all died terrible deaths once they got to their destination.
Far from home and besieged with traumatic memories, Torv decided to stay behind. He was the oldest in the group, and though he’d wanted to return home to his family, a part of him also believed that they were better off without him.
He’d stayed to serve his sentence while the others had been given a boat to sail back across.
Most of them deserted once they touched land, so as not to be sent to the Southern Border again. Only one came back, and he was the one that Elric had coaxed to give him all this information.
Initially, the man didn’t want to talk. He stuck to the story that Torv and the rest of the teammates were dead, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. But Elric could tell he was hiding something, and after he assured the man that no one would be sent back to the frontlines if they were found, he finally reluctantly told him the tragic tale.
This sent Elric to the Willows to find Torv.
Ironically, the hardest part of the whole endeavor was getting Torv to return. He didn’t want to abandon the tribe, having grown close to some of them over the nearly four years he’d been there, and he didn’t want a curse to befall the rest of his team who had escaped.
Elric tried to convince him that there was likely no curse, but Torv didn’t buy it.
Vitae-dominants were always superstitious and believed too strongly in spirits and the powers of nature.
So Elric had to part with quite a bit of gold and broker a peace treaty with the warring tribes to convince them to let Torv go, but even then, Torv still resisted.
It had taken some time to get to the root of his resistance, requiring Elric to return multiple times and use empathy spells to understand him.
After the third conversation, he finally understood that for Torv, it was too painful to return. He’d been away from his family, his children, for too long, and he thought they had moved on without him, that they had already grieved him, and were now living with the understanding that he was dead. He made references to his wife probably being remarried by now, his children being adults, except for Little Ari, who would likely not even remember what he looked like.
He felt like his life was over in a sense. He was not the same man he’d been when he’d left, had seen too much, done too much. He carried too many psychological and emotional scars.
He had nothing to offer them of himself now but a shell of a person.
He thought they’d already accepted his death, as he had told one of the escaped warriors to get word to Thessa that he was gone. He didn’t want to go back and reopen old wounds.
After his speech, Elric explained to Torv that his family had never accepted his death, and they had not forgotten about him. That even today, his son still expected to hear from him any day now. That his wife had never remarried. That his daughters needed him.
They’d had to work through a lot of his misbeliefs, and it was more time-consuming and emotionally taxing than Elric had thought it would be.
But it was worth it to see how happy it had made his family.
And now, seeing how happy it made Arielle.
Elric had never seen her cry like that.
And judging by the stares she was getting from some of the other students with their families on the lawn, they had never seen it either.
Arielle typically gave the impression of being quite stoic. Even though Elric knew she wasn’t, that she actually felt things deeply–though she didn’t always know how to portray it–one would have to get close enough
to see that side of her.
Probably, a lot of the students were seeing that side of her for the first time today, and it was shocking and disconcerting to them.
Elric also knew that their group stuck out like a sore thumb.
Mossbornes were identifiable by their size, their typically darker skin, and their bright-green veins that sometimes showed up in direct sunlight. Even if one didn’t know what a Mossborne was or what they looked like, it was obvious that the non-robe-wearing pair weren’t ascendants.
And some people didn’t like that. They turned up their noses and sneered until Elric made eye contact, and let his authority slip for just a second, just enough to let them cower and bow.
Of course, that worked with sect leaders and the lesser-ranked nobles, but not with those like Lord Wesley and his entourage who passed by while Arielle was crying. He’d shown up with his wife and his concubine today, and both women were trying valiantly to ignore the other’s existence. They both looked at Arielle as they passed by, and while the wife retained her cool expression, some softness appeared in the gaze of the concubine, before she tore her eyes away.
Lord Wesley himself gave Elric a nod that was near a bow before he walked on.
Through it all, Arielle kept crying. Her brother clucked his teeth as he said, “Ari, come on. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of your classmates.”
Arielle shook her head into her father’s shoulder, clutching him tighter, though her sobs quieted.
She finally pulled back and wiped her face, and Torv didn’t seem capable of doing anything but looking at his daughter.
“Oh wee, Ari,” he said, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of his large, scarred hand, tears still rolling down his face.“You’ve grown so much.”
“Nine inches,” Arielle concurred quite primly, making her father snort.
“Still so specific, my little Ari.”
Ari bobbed her head, and Torv pulled her closer and kissed her on her cheek.
Arielle cringed a little at the kiss, but she stayed in place dutifully until he was done. Then she kicked her legs to be let down.
When he did, she asked him, “Where have you been? You’ve been gone for so long.”
“Well…” Torv looked uncomfortable with the question. He’d told the older children some of what he’d been through–though not even the half of it–but he seemed reluctant to share any of that with Arielle.
“He got busy,” Brom interjected. “He was saving the Southern Border from Mossgiants, and he didn’t have time to write.”
Perhaps another child would have been upset by that report. Arielle seemed to accept it without a hitch.
“I understand,” Arielle said. “I get busy too, sometimes. But we should still endeavor to communicate or at least make small talk when we get busy, and not ignore those who care about us, as that can be hurtful and annoying.”
Both father and son appeared shocked.
Arielle blinked at them. “What? Did you not know this?”
“No, we knew it,” Brom said. “We just didn’t think you did.”
“Yes. Lyra informed me this morning. Lyra is my roommate and my friend. She’s very helpful in teaching me to understand others.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I’d love to meet her,” Torv said.
“We will later,” Arielle said. Lyra was not in the courtyard, but perhaps she was inside the main building or in the dining hall, where the buffet spread was.
Speaking of which… “There is a lot of food here, Father. Delicious food. You should have plenty before you go.”
“I will,” he said.
“Did Celie and Mother not come with you?”
“No, unfortunately, I could only raise the quota by one,” Elric said. “But they’ll be the ones attending the next family day.”
“Celie gave me some things to give to you. Mother too.” He raised the bag in his hand. “Coats and things for the colder months.”
Arielle accepted it. “Thank you.”
“You’ve gotten so polite here,” Brom said. “Look at you, already speaking like a proper lady.”
“I’ve always spoken like a proper lady. You’re the one who curses like a sailor.”
“Ooooh, take that back right now.”
“No. It’s the truth.”
“That’s it. You’ll pay for besmirching your brother’s name.”
“I didn’t–Eee!”
Her words were cut off in a squeal as Brom snatched her up and swung her around in a loop.
Arielle squealed as she fought with her brother to be let down.
Elric knew she could likely get herself down with magic, but some part of her must not want to.
Perhaps a part of her enjoyed this familiar ritual, but it was probably more so that she didn’t want to waste essence.
Elric smiled at them, even as a pang squeezed his chest. His parents, the ones he considered his real family, had never been allowed to visit him while on campus. He’d spent six years in this place, with his only visits being from clan representatives checking to see if he would be a promising addition to the family, or someone they need not bother with.
So many times, he’d thought of giving up and having his cores suppressed. But he’d persevered out of sheer stubbornness to prove to them that he could do it, be a great mage who was raised by mundanes. Every time he went home for the one allotted yearly break, he would see his parents and be filled with renewed vigor to make them proud.
Thanks to that, he’d become one of the most brilliant mages of his year, graduating with honors, though the people who mattered most could never even attend his commencement ceremony.
They never lived long enough to see the man he would become.
He pushed away the bitter thought, dragging himself back to the moment.
At least he could do this for Arielle.
“Elric.” A familiar high-pitched voice drawled behind him, and he sighed.
He’d been hoping she wouldn’t be here, or that if she were here, she would avoid him.
He really wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.
“Emilia.”
His birth father’s sixth wife stood next to her daughter, who looked as apprehensive and pinched as always. Emilia was more striking than Anne, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, which she accentuated with kohl. She was wearing prime handcrafted cloudweave, opulent layers, with abstract petals painted on them.
The scent of honey blossoms oozed from her, a scent that made Elric ill.
By all rights, they were supposed to bow when seeing him as both were only just adepts.
Elric could enforce it. But they knew he wouldn’t, which was why they disrespected him in such a way.
Emilia raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason why you’re standing with these…people?”
“Of course,” Elric said. “They’re my cousin’s adopted family.”
“Yes,” Torv said with a heavy brow and with clenched teeth. “Adopted.”
“I see,” the woman responded. “Well, tell your adopted family to cease their ruckus at once. Our civilized, polite conversations are getting interrupted by their braying.”
“You could also just move farther away from us,” Elric said with a cold, tight smile. “But we’ll try to keep it down.”
Emilia’s eyes sparked, and even though she’d gotten what she wanted, she didn’t move away yet.
Just as a boy from nowhere strolled up and declared loudly, “Arielle Blacksoil.”
“Yes?”
“I challenge you to a duel.”
Arielle scanned him and shook her head. “No.”
The boy cocked his head. “You do not accept?”
“Yes.”
“Why not?”
“Because I do not want to. I want to spend time with my father and my brother, not waste it on duels.”
Elric smiled. That was a good answer. She was doing well.
The boy said in an overly loud voice. “Is that the reason, or is it because you’ve been abusing illegal vitality charms since you’ve been here and lying about your aptitude?”
Elric’s smile died.
“Now hold on a second,” he started.
The boy immediately bowed to Elric but kept talking even after he did, “With all due respect, Archmage, everyone knows what she did. How she cheated her way into this school, and it is an insult to the reputation of this institution that she is still here.”
“You dare accuse me of deceit,” Elric said in a deceptively soft voice. “Because that is essentially what you’re implying.”
The boy paled.
“I don’t mean to insult,” he stammered. “But given you know who my family is, you must also know that I cannot let such a thing stand. I only ask her to duel me to prove her aptitude. With all respect to you, Archmage. I know I risk your wrath by doing this, but it is the honorable thing to do.”
The boy was incredibly simple-minded. Elric didn’t know who his family was, but he didn’t know how this clumsy display was supposed to prove anything.
…except that it was getting attention, particularly that of Lord Wesley.
And Lord Wesley despised cheaters, and as an alumna, he was always concerned about the prestige of the academy.
Moreover, he had the power to get Arielle kicked out and shunned in the Ascendant society.
Darn.
“I don’t have to fight you,” Arielle said.
“You must if you want to prove that you’re not a fraud.”
“It won’t prove that, though. You’re not skilled enough to present a challenge, nor significant enough for your opinion to matter to me.”
Oh Ari.
The boy’s face flushed red, his eyes blazing. Elric hid his smile as he patted Arielle’s shoulder, about to tell the boy to leave.
But then, they heard Emilia say, “Of course, she would be a coward and a fraud. What else can you expect from the daughter of a bogblood?”
Arielle went still. So did her father and her brother.
Elric, too, for a second, froze in shock and anger that such words had left the woman’s mouth.
Though Emilia had certainly never been a warm person, she usually remained polite, albeit subtly insulting. He was shocked that she would lower herself to using such blatant, vile slurs.
He couldn’t let her get away with that.
“Did you just–”
“Apologize,” Arielle said in a tone he’d never heard before.
“For what?” Emilia said.
“For the insult.” Arielle’s voice wasn’t loud per se. It was quiet, but somehow already echoed with power as she stared at the woman. “It was an insult, wasn’t it?” She looked to Elric for confirmation. “She called my father a slur.”
“It was,” her brother said, glaring at the woman. “But we’re not ashamed of who we are, and we don’t respond to insults like that. Let’s just ignore her.”
Emilie smiled. “If I were you, Arielle Blacksoil, I would be more concerned with instructing your commoner family on what to do when they’re faced with a superior. Or did they not teach you in the swamp to bow for an ascendant?”
“He doesn’t have to,” Arielle said. “You’re only an Adept, not a Master.”
Both Emilia’s and Anne’s smug looks died.
“What?” Emilia said.
“I said you’re not a master. You’re not entitled to a bow. I could bow out of courtesy, and I was going to, but then you disrespected my father, so I’m less inclined.”
Emilia’s gaze was sharp as a dagger. Elric knew Ari had checked their stats, but hopefully, they themselves did not realize it and simply imagined Elric had told her.
“Apologize to my father, and I will bow,” Arielle said.
“Apologize?” she scoffed. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“You called my father a slur,” she said, her eyes narrowing and firm. “Apologize.”
Elric also stared at Emilia, who maintained her stubborn stance.
“Emilia,” Elric said, injecting command in his voice, directing more of his authority towards her. “This is neither the time nor the place. Apologize for what you said and walk away.”
She shrank and shook from the pressure of his authority, but she didn’t recant the words. She pointed a shaky finger at Arielle, rage bleeding in her eyes. “Did you not hear what this chit said to me? She mocked me for not being a master.”
“No. She was just stating facts.” It only sounds like mockery because you’re insecure about your own lack of ambition.“And she’s not a chit.” He increased the pressure of his authority, and Emilia let out a soft cry of pain. Anne caught her mother against her body, glaring at her brother. Elric typically hated doing this, and right now was no exception. But it was necessary.
“Apologize,” Arielle repeated.
“Or else what?” Anne said.
“Or else, I’ll have to directly challenge your statement.”
“Challenge the statement?” Anne scoffed. “Are you challenging me to a duel?”
Arielle didn’t skip a beat. “Perhaps. If that’s what it takes.”
“You understand that you’re an apprentice and I’m an adept? And you’re a first year while I’m in my third, almost fourth?”
Arielle didn’t respond to that. She switched her gaze to the woman once again.
Even as her father tried to pull her away, saying, “Ari, it’s not a big deal,” She shook her head.
She maintained eye contact with the older woman. “Apologize.”