Throvald Fors
Everything was coming together perfectly.
The stage was already set, and the performers were deep in practice. Flames twisted and curled in mesmerizing shapes, serpents coiling mid-air, flowers blooming from embers, birds of fire soaring before vanishing into sparks. I found myself entranced. Such precision, such artistry… I had never been capable of that level of control.
"Is everything to your liking, my lord?"
Silas stepped up beside me, his gaze also fixed on the stage.
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "It looks wonderful, just as it does every year."
Yet, as I turned toward Silas, I noticed something, hesitation. His brow was slightly furrowed, his lips pressing together as if weighing his words.
"What is it, old friend?" I asked.
His fingers flexed slightly before he finally spoke. "They've finished setting up the memorial stands at the church."
Ah. So that's what this was about.
I exhaled slowly, then gave him a fond smile. "No need, Silas. Let's go back and grab it together."
With a nod, we turned away from the stage, making our way through town. Silas silently followed behind me.
The streets were already alive with movement. The festival was already two days away, and merchants were setting up their stalls, their voices rising as they arranged goods and secured banners. Laughter and chatter filled the space between wooden stands.
As we walked, the townspeople greeted me, some with deep bows, others with warm smiles. I returned each greeting with a nod, though inwardly, I felt a bit embarrassed. I had told them time and time again not to be so formal with me, but old habits died hard.
If I dared voice my complaints, Elara would have my head. "A lord must always be domineering," she would say. "Confidence breeds loyalty."
We reached the manor, and a voice called out, one that filled me with happiness no matter the circumstance.
"Grandpa."
I barely had time to react before Sieg came bounding out of the house, his small feet barely making a sound against the stone.
A broad grin stretched across my face as warmth filled my chest.
"Sieg," I rumbled, bending down and scooping him into my arms, lifting him high before pulling him into a tight embrace.
No matter what weighed on my heart, hearing his voice always made the world feel lighter.
"Are you done with your lessons for today?"
Sieg nodded enthusiastically, his hair bouncing with the motion. "I am!"
I chuckled, but as I looked at him more closely, I noticed the drowsiness lingering in his eyes. Zayn had been waking him early for training. I understood the importance of awakening his crucible, but I hoped he wasn't pushing himself too hard. He was still just a boy.
Still, I couldn't help but feel a quiet excitement. Soon, I would train him in the Fors family's magic, Force. I would teach him everything, just as I had once taught Valka and... Erik.
A voice called out before I could dwell too deeply on the past.
"Ah, I found you, Lord Sieg!"
I turned to see a small figure running toward us, Alina's daughter, Erina. If I recalled correctly, Elara had mentioned that Alina would be stopping by today to deliver some milk cans.
"Were you playing?" I asked.
Sieg nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! We were playing hide and seek."
I set him down, ruffling his hair once before giving them both a firm nod. "Be careful, both of you."
With a quick, eager bow, they scurried off, disappearing around the mansion's side, their giggles trailing behind them.
Silas, who had been watching from the side, let out a hum of approval. "The young lord has changed a lot recently."
"He certainly has," I murmured, my gaze lingering in the direction they had gone.
Elara and Valka had said the same thing. Sieg had become more talkative, more cheerful. A proper child. I had worried about him before, how quiet and withdrawn he used to be, how he did only what was asked of him and nothing more. But now, there was life in him, a spark of mischief and curiosity that hadn't been there before.
It was good. It was how things should be.
"I'll go check on the soldiers," Silas said, his eyes already scanning the grounds.
"Go ahead," I nodded.
Silas vanished around the other side of the mansion, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Now then…
I made my way through the mansion, the familiar halls bathed in the rays of the sun. Every step felt heavier as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. My destination was the room next to Valka's.
I hesitated at the door, inhaling deeply. Memories, both warm and painful, stirred in my chest, my fingers hovering over the handle.
Finally, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Erik's room.
My son's room.
A wave of silence pressed down on me as I took in the familiar sight. Dust had gathered in places, despite the servants keeping it clean. Everything was as he had left it, untouched, waiting, as if he might return at any moment.
We used to come here often.
But ever since Sieg was born, we stopped.
His arrival pulled us out of the depths of our grief, like the first rays of dawn after an endless night. In a way, he became our... salvation. A new light, a reason to keep moving forward.
I turned toward the desk, my gaze falling on the small framed portrait resting there. My son's face stared back at me, forever frozen in time, his sharp yet kind eyes, his confident smile.
"Why did I let you go?"
The question weighed heavily in my heart, though no answer ever came.
"Grandpa?"
I flinched slightly, pulled abruptly from my thoughts.
I turned to see Sieg standing at the door, curiosity in his eyes.
Forcing a smile, I straightened. "What are you doing here? Weren't you playing?"
He stepped further into the room. "I was looking for Erina."
Ah… they were playing hide and seek.
His gaze wandered across the room, taking in everything with quiet wonder. Then, his eyes landed on the desk, specifically the framed picture.
"Who is that?"
I followed his gaze.
"… That is your uncle."
Sieg blinked in surprise. "I have an uncle?"
"Yes," I said, my voice softer now. "But… he is no longer with us."
"Oh…" Sieg's expression fell, a small frown settling on his lips. I hadn't expected him to fully grasp the meaning, but perhaps I had underestimated how much he had grown.
A moment of silence passed before he spoke again, his voice hesitant. "What… happened to him?"
A simple question. But one that carried a mountain of pain.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the past press down on my shoulders. How could I explain something like this to my own grandson?
"A great monster and its army attacked the barony," I finally said. "Your uncle… sacrificed himself to save everyone."
A distant memory clawed its way to the surface, raw and unrelenting.
The year 1230 AE. Nine years ago.
A beast fell from beyond the sky, shaking the entire continent of Aethelgia. It was no ordinary creature, it was a calamity, a herald of destruction: Beast of Cataclysm. The monsters and magic beasts within its influence went mad, rampaging through towns and cities.
Valka had been in the capital at the time, which meant the responsibility of protecting our home fell to Erik and me. We fought with everything we had, side by side, tooth and nail.
We won.
But Erik... fell.
I never even found his body.
His death left a wound in my heart. It never fully healed, and it never would.
Sieg's small voice brought me back. "Oh… I see." His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something thoughtful, something understanding.
I placed a gentle hand on his head.
He was still young. He didn't need to carry the weight of the past just yet.
"Shouldn't you go find Erina now?"
"Right!" Sieg spun on his heel and ran out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway before fading into the distance.
I watched him go for a moment before exhaling softly.
"Now… let's take it to the church."
This was something I had to do. I couldn't let Elara bear this burden, I couldn't let her be the one to cry today.
Turning back, I carefully lifted the portrait from the desk. The wooden frame was smooth, yet the weight of it in my hands felt heavier than it should. Perhaps because it carried more than just my son's image, it carried memories, love, and the ache of loss that never truly faded.
Stepping out of the room, I closed the door gently behind me.
The mansion was quiet.
As I walked through the halls, the servants I passed bowed their heads in silence. Not a single word was spoken, yet their understanding was clear in their somber expressions. They knew what today meant.
I took the quieter route toward the church, avoiding the livelier paths where preparations for the festival continued. I walked in silence, alone with my thoughts.
It wasn't long before I reached the church.
The old stone building stood solemnly against the morning sky, its spire reaching upward as if in prayer. I made my way around to the back, where the memorial was always set up.
And there, tending to the long table of portraits, stood a familiar figure.
"How are you, Father Kaelen?"
The priest turned at my voice, his aged but warm eyes crinkling with a gentle smile.
"Ah, Lord Fors. I am well, thanks to Aethelhum's great blessing."
As devout as ever.
He wore his ceremonial white-and-light-green vestments, standing amidst the portraits like a guardian of the past. The table was already filled with framed images, each one a name, a face, a soul remembered.
I took a slow breath. "It seems many have come before me."
Father Kaelen nodded, his expression turning somber. "As they do every year. It is… heart-wrenching."
I said nothing in response.
Instead, I stepped forward, lifting Erik's portrait with careful hands, and placed it among the others.
A memorial for those who had fallen nine years ago.
For the brave souls who gave their lives to protect this land.
For the heroes of our territory.
I let my hand linger on the frame for a moment longer. Then, I stepped back, staring at the faces of the past.
No matter how much time passed, this moment would always weigh on me.
Suddenly—a pulse.
A sudden shockwave rippled through the air. A pulse of mana, violent yet controlled, struck me like a hammer to the head.
No, it wasn't just me.
I felt it rush through the entire town, like a silent explosion expanding outward in every direction. The very air trembled with unseen power. The cobblestones beneath my feet vibrated.
The source—
My heart almost stopped.
The manor.
"Lord Fors!" Father Kaelen's tense voice came from behind. "What was that? Are we under attack?"
I barely heard him. My mind had already pieced it together. A sensation like this… I had felt it before.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, I remembered.
Six years ago.
"SIEG!!!"
I didn't waste a second. Instantly, I pulled the surrounding mana into myself, the air around me crackling as I wove the spell.
"Lord Fors?!"
"Gravitational Glide!"
A powerful field of altered gravity enveloped me, the pull of the earth weakened around me. My feet lifted, weightless, before the force propelling me forward.
Wind howled past my ears as I soared above the town, roofs blurring below me. But my eyes locked onto the true sight ahead,
A pillar of mana, rising like a beacon behind the mansion.
No, not rising, converging.
It was gathering, folding in on itself, forming a spiraling vortex of mana. Like a maelstrom before the storm.
I flew straight toward it, my heartbeat hammering in my chest.
From above, I spotted them, Elara, Valka, Silas, Erina, and several soldiers all standing frozen in the training field. Their eyes were locked on him.
The source of the disturbance.
"Sieg!"
I landed with a heavy thud, my boots digging into the ground. Dust kicked up around me, but I barely noticed. My gaze snapped toward my grandson.
And there he was.
Sieg floated in the center of the field, his small body trembling, his eye whited out, which was engulfed in a shimmering, flickering aura of pure mana. The mana around him pulsed like a living thing, distorting the air, warping space itself.
"Elara!" I turned to my wife, urgency thick in my voice. "What's happening?!"
She didn't take her eyes off our grandson, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her gaze. A deep, hidden understanding.
"Sieg..." she whispered. "Sieg is going through his Awakening."