CHAPTER 74— The Letters and the Weight of Tomorrow
"So every person in this academy has killed someone."
Rowan muttered the words softly to himself as he sat alone on the bed, his fingers gently tracing the edge of an old, frayed letter.
It was one of many his older brother had sent him over the years during his time in the academy, Back then Rowan was still a wide-eyed kid back home, blissfully ignorant of what the elite academy actually demanded of it's students.
When he first entered the academy. his heart had hammered with a pure, electric excitement.
The sprawling campus, the grand lectures, the towering spires, the new friends—everything felt like the opening chapter of a grand adventure. But the horror of Rune Island had violently stripped away all that innocence, leaving behind a hollow, aching exhaustion.
'Did bhaiya also killed someone during his time?' Rowan wondered, his gaze dropping to the ink-stained letter.
All the letters his brother had mailed him over the years painted a picture of a vibrant, challenging, but ultimately normal school life. There had never been a single bad thing, a single hint of violence or trauma.
That was precisely why Rowan had formed such an idealistic, glowing image of the academy.
But now, standing on the other side of reality, the silence in those letters felt deafening.
'Why didn't bhaiya wrote anything about his bad experiences of the academy. There's no way each day would have been happy here.'
Rowan's grip tightened, the paper crinkling slightly under his thumb.
'Did bhaiya also went through the guilt of killing someone? Did he also felt what I feel right now at some point?
Rowan wondered and the only anchors he had left to steady his fraying mind were these very letters.
He found himself re-reading the same paragraphs over and over again, searching desperately between the lines, hunting for a hidden confession, a clue, anything that might explain what had truly happened to his brother.
Before leaving his hometown, he had gathered every single letter his brother had ever sent and packed them tightly into the bottom of his bag, praying they might help him find the answers he desperately sought.
He would finish reading one, fold it neatly, and pull out another.
Yet, contrary to his desperate expectations, every page remained filled with mundane memories: campus gossip, rigorous training regimens, tactical classes, academy Missions and friendships forged under the banner of the academy.
Strangely enough, his brother had frequently mentioned a handful of specific names throughout the correspondence.
'Could these people might know something about what happened to bhaiya.'
Rowan leaned forward his mind racing with thoughts.
'But where do I even find these people, I have no idea who they are and where they might be now.'
Creak.
The sound of the door swinging open snapped Rowan out of his spiral. He flinched violently, instinctively folding the letter in half and shoving it deep into his pocket.
Ritvik strolled into the room, holding a bag of chips and casually snacking away. He paused near the center of the floor, blinking as he noticed Rowan sitting awkwardly on the lower bunk.
"You okay? Feeling good ?" Ritvik asked around a crunch.
"I'm... I'm okay," Rowan replied flatly, schooling his expression.
Ritvik tossed an unopened packet of chips across the room. Rowan caught it reflexively, looking up in surprise.
"Eat it, it's better then that grass water you had today."
"Ah... Thank you."
"No worries, I brought it from the reward money."
Rowan's brows twitched. "Reward money?"
"Yeah. The academy handed out hazard bonuses to everyone who fought the dark mage on Rune Island. Well, you would've gotten a nice payout too, if you hadn't locked yourself in the room for a week."
"Oh..." Rowan lowered his head, staring miserably at the chips in his hands.
'So they hand out rewards too... even for killing.'
Ritvik stepped further into the room, his eyes drifting toward the corner where Rowan's axe was leaning against the wall.
"Oh, by the way. You still haven't submitted your materials for your custom wand crafting, have you?"
Rowan shook his head.
"You better hurry up and drop them off before the Smithy unit wraps up intake and leave. The first semester exam will start soon after all students have their new wands"
"Yeah, I would do it tomorrow."
Ritvik rose a brow at that reply.
"Huh. Cool. Anyway..." He gestured vaguely toward the bed Rowan was sitting on. "Could you get off my bed now?"
Rowan flinched, quickly standing up while clutching his heavy backpack to his chest.
"Oh— Yeah Sorry for that."
"Never mind."
Rowan turned and began climbing the wooden ladder toward his upper bunk. But as he hoisted his bag up, the strap slipped awkwardly from his sweat-slicked hand.
Thud.
The bag hit the floor with a heavy, ungraceful crash. The zipper was halfway open which caused a cascade of folded letters to spill out across the wooden floorboards, scattering right near Ritvik's feet.
Ritvik blinked, looking down at the sea of aged parchment. He bent down, picking one up with curious fingers.
"What's this? You got a love lett—"
Before Ritvik could finish reading the header, Rowan dove down from the ladder with startling speed, snatching the letter right out of his hand and shoving it back into the bag with frantic, trembling movements. He zipped it shut with violent finality.
Ritvik stumbled back a step, blinking in bewilderment.
"Wh-What happened to you? You ok?"
"Y-Yeah!" Rowan stammered, his face pale.
"What's with these letters? and that many?"
Ritvik asked, genuine curiosity etched across his face as he tossed another chip into his mouth.
Rowan kept his head down, a furious storm of panic raging inside his chest.
'What should I say, if they find out. then I might get kicked out of the academy. No I can't, I still haven't find out what happened to Bhaiya."
"Rowan?"
'How much should I tell him, can I even trust him? And how much could I trust him.'
"Hey Rowan!"
"Ahh... Yeah?"
"What happens to you? sometimes you just starts spacing out."
"Ahh... Well."
"If you don't wanna tell then there's no need."
Rowan stared at Ritvik, stunned. The boy who moments ago looked like he wouldn't budge an inch without an answer was suddenly waving a hand dismissively and turning toward his own bed.
Realizing he couldn't just let the heavy misunderstanding linger, Rowan swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he finally forced the words out.
"These letters are from my brother.",
Ritvik stopped dead in his tracks.
Rowan swallowed the lump in his throat, keeping his voice low. "He used to attend this academy, and..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
A long, quiet beat passed.
"Sighh..."Ritvik slowly turned back around, letting out a soft sigh. He walked over and planted a heavy, reassuring hand on Rowan's shoulder. "I understand."
Rowan turned his head, looking up at him in surprise.
"I'm sure your brother must've been a great guy," Ritvik said, his eyes carrying an unexpected, quiet depth of respect.
Rowan's eyes widened slightly as he saw the genuine sincerity sparkling in Ritvik's gaze.
"Thanks for sharing... whatever it was that was weighing you down," Ritvik added with a small nod, before finally heading over to crash on his own mattress.
Rowan sat frozen for a moment, staring after him.
'I have no idea what he's assuming in his head, but... looks like I don't need to explain any further.'
With a quiet exhale, Rowan slung his backpack over his shoulder and climbed the ladder up to his bed, finally letting the tension drain from his bones.
---
"The hell are you even saying?"
The next morning, the cool academy corridor was bathed in soft light.
Sarina and Ritvik stood side by side against a polished stone pillar. Sarina leaned back casually, one foot pressed against the wall behind her, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"I'm telling you, I'm sure that's the case,"
Ritvik insisted, gesturing with his hands.
"I'm sure Rowan's brother was some kind of legendry war hero who died in the line of duty. That's why Rowan is so agonizingly sensitive to death and killing."
Sarina raised an eyebrow, staring at him flatly. "Are you sure you aren't just writing an entire fictional drama inside your own head?"
Ritvik huffed, lifting his hand and making a fist.
"No, I'm dead serious! That has to be why he hoards those letters like precious treasure. I'm sure He misses his brother."
Sarina studied Ritvik for a second, noticing a strange, uncharacteristic flicker of vulnerability cross his features.
"I know because...." Ritvik muttered, his hands dropping to his sides, his fists tightening slightly.
"Well whatever." Sarina said, closing her eyes briefly before pushing off the wall.
"Let's go check on him. You mentioned he still hasn't submitted his smithing materials, right?"
"Oh, right! Let's go before he locks himself away again," Ritvik snapped out of his own thoughts as he followed Sarina, hurrying to match her pace.
---
Back in the dorm room, Rowan finished fastening his academy uniform.
His face was still slightly worn, and the faint bruises of exhaustion lingered beneath his eyes, but his posture was infinitely steadier than it had been a few days prior. Ritvik's reminder from yesterday echoed clearly in his mind.
'I have to submit my materials today.'
He instinctively reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the mysterious, shifting Rune he had stumbled upon in Rune Island. He pulled it out for a brief second, watching the iridescent colors swirl beneath the surface like liquid glass.
'Sigh... I still have no idea what this thing even is.'
He tucked the rune back away, grabbed the rare piece of mana wood he had chopped from the tree garden, and finally reached for his axe resting in the corner.
He picked it up, running a thumb over the polished metal. His brows twitched as he stopped at a faint, dark smudge near the crossguard.
Dried blood.
The remnants of the dark mage he had killed on Rune Island were still faintly visible, baked permanently into the grain of the steel.
Rowan stared at the trace of his first kill, a quiet chill washing over him—not of panic, but of heavy, sobering acceptance.
Before the lingering memories could drag him under, a sharp rap at the door shattered the silence.
Knock, knock.
Rowan turned sharply. Ritvik pushed the door open, with Sarina standing right behind him in the hallway, looking cool and collected.
"What are you daydreaming about in there? Come on, don't tell me you forgot we're going to submit your materials," Ritvik called out.
Rowan took a deep, steadying breath. He clipped his axe securely to his belt, slung his pack over his shoulder, and walked forward to meet them.
---
CHAPTER ENDS