Novel Full Chapter 544: A mistake was made.
Chapter 544: A mistake was made.
After Kael was done, the Water Point emptied out. Velmourns pulled their children close and walked away with their flasks held tight. Stonefangs gathered in tight groups and left in silence, their shoulders still tense, their hands still half-ready even when their weapons were no longer raised.
Snow continued to fall, but it didn’t soften anything.
Morvain and Aelindra stayed behind for a while, speaking in low voices with the Water Wardens and the guards.
Lavinia moved to the side, checking the baby from a distance with one of her spirits, making sure the bruise was not worse than it looked. The Stonefang mother did not trust anyone touching her child, but she did not block Lavinia either.
Lavinia’s Aura… eased her mind in some way.
As for Kael, he watched the lanes until the last rope was pulled away and the last container was lifted off the ground.
Only then did he turn and go to…
The residential quarter.
The Velmourn quarter that had shared the Water Point was quiet now. Kael didn’t speak to anyone either, he kept walking until he reached a narrow stone lane where the houses leaned close, built to keep wind out and heat in.
He stopped in front of one of the houses.
The house’s door was patched twice. The roof had extra stone slabs placed over it, like someone had been afraid of losing even the little warmth inside.
Knock Knock
Kael knocked.
And after about a minute, a woman opened the door, a woman almost every Velmourn in this quarter would recognize, especially right now, when she had been the centre of attention.
She was the boy’s mother.
Yes, the same boy who had thrown the stone at the Stonefang baby.
She looked exhausted; even when everything worked out in the end and nothing happened to her and her child, the situation still drained her.
When she saw Kael, her eyes widened.
For a heartbeat, she looked like she didn’t know whether she should bow, kneel, or run.
Then she quickly stepped aside.
“L-Lord Kael…
Please… come in.”
She spoke in a low voice.
Kael walked in and his eyes fell on the boy.
The boy stood near the sleeping corner, half hidden behind a curtain.
Seven years old.
Wearing the same scarf, the same pale face, his eyes flicked to Kael and then away instantly, as if… he was hiding something.
The mother shut the door and hurried to the kitchen, almost out of habit.
“Do you… want tea?”
She asked.
“I’m not here for tea.”
Kael shook his head.
The woman froze.
“…Then why are you here?”
She asked carefully.
It wasn’t disrespect.
It was confusion.
And underneath it… fear.
Kael did not answer her at first.
He looked at the boy.
His gaze was calm, but it did not feel soft.
It felt like a lamp held close to someone hiding something.
“He should know that,”
Kael said in a soft voice.
The mother blinked.
“He…?”
She looked back at her son.
“What is this about? He already—”
She stopped.
Her words got stuck.
Because Kael’s gaze did not move.
It stayed on the boy.
And the boy… shifted.
First he held his shoulders stiff, like he was ready to be punished.
Then he tried to pull the same story he had been hiding behind all this while.
“I… I was just holding it,
I wasn’t aiming. It slipped…”
Kael’s expression didn’t change.
He didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t argue.
He only stared.
The boy’s words slowed and his voice became smaller. His eyes kept darting to the floor, to the wall, to his mother, anywhere except Kael.
And the mother’s expression froze.
After all, how could a mother not know when her child was lying? And the moment she saw her child’s expression, she realized it.
He was lying.
All this while, she had believed the story Kael had fed them since she hadn’t seen everything herself, but now, seeing her child…
“Roy…”
She called out.
“What did you do?”
She asked, her voice cracking as if she didn’t wish to believe whatever she was thinking.
Roy’s lips pressed together. When his mother called him, and under Kael’s constant, sure gaze, his shoulders dropped and… he cracked.
“I threw it.”
The mother’s face went blank.
“What…?”
“I threw it,”
The boy repeated, but the next instant—
“I wasn’t trying to hit the baby!”
He shouted.
“I wasn’t! I didn’t even… I didn’t even see the baby properly! I was aiming at the big man! I swear!”
He looked up at Kael for the first time, his eyes were wet with fear, fear that Kael wouldn’t believe him, that he would be punished.
But just then—
“I believe you,”
Kael nodded.
The boy froze.
Even the mother froze.
The two expected rage, condemnation and even… punishment, harsh punishment.
Punishment for breaking the new rules.
The mother’s breath trembled.
“And… and if you believe him,”
She whispered, a small hope rising in her self-inflicted despair.
“Then… then this means—”
“It still means what it means,”
Kael said in a calm voice.
“A mistake was made.”
The mother swallowed.
“A mistake,”
She repeated.
The boy flinched.
Kael’s eyes turned firmer.
“And mistakes have consequences.”
The room went silent.
The mother’s face drained of color.
The boy’s breathing turned shallow.
The word consequence was quite heavy in the Heights, especially considering that according to the new rules, any harm done to the other party would mean… execution.
“Lord Kael, please—”
The mother stepped forward as the panic set in, but before she could speak, Kael raised his hand, stopping her.
“I’m not here to punish you,”
Kael said, looking at her for a moment.
“And I’m not here to harm him.”
The frozen woman trembled, her eyes glistening with relief the instant she heard those words. She nodded quickly, biting her lip so hard it turned white.
Kael turned back to the boy.
“You will apologize,”
He said and the boy…
His hands clenched harder.
“To the baby’s mother,”
Kael continued.
“And to the Stonefang warrior you were trying to hit.”
The boy’s eyes widened.
His lips parted.
Then they pressed into a hard line.
He didn’t speak.
But his entire body screamed what he felt.
Unwillingness.
His jaw shook as he looked down, then, as if unable to hold himself back, he asked in a voice full of burning resentment.
“…Why do I have to apologize to him?”
Kael didn’t say anything, he waited for the child to let out all the strong feelings he had been holding for a year.
The boy’s eyes turned darker.
“They killed my father!”
And the boy shouted.
“They took him!”
The mother flinched at those words.
The boy kept going.
“They come every winter and take everything! Food. People. Blood. Today they took our water too! And they laughed when they win!
They…
They don’t care!”
Finally, the boy stopped, as if he had nothing more to say, but the resentment in his eyes still hadn’t disappeared.
And that was when Kael began.
“The water today wasn’t yours.”
“What?”
The boy blinked.
“It wasn’t yours,”
Kael repeated.
“And it wasn’t theirs either. It belongs to the alliance.
It belongs to… survival.”
“That’s not fair!”
The boy retorted, letting his anger out now that he finally had a listener, and Kael…
“War is what’s not fair.”
He answered, looking into the boy’s eyes with a meaningful gaze, a gaze he knew the boy would understand.
“You lost your father last year.
That pain is real.”
The mother’s eyes trembled again.
Kael did not look away from the boy.
“But do you think your father did not kill Stonefangs?”
The boy’s expression faltered.
“Do you think your father never swung his blade into a Stonefang chest? Do you think he never burned a Stonefang camp? Do you think no Stonefang child has ever cried because your father returned alive?”
The boy’s breathing hitched.
“T-They were the ones who r-raided us!”
He tried to counter.
“They raid because if they do not, their families die from hunger. Their land doesn’t produce food like ours does.”
“That’s their fault! They should have chosen better land!”
The child gave a child-like answer but…
That answer wouldn’t work today.
“They did have a better land.
Until your ancestors took that land for themselves and you started living on it.”
Kael answered and, in an instant, the child… didn’t know what to say.
“The Stonefangs raid because their land was taken from them, they raid so their families can live, and we defend so our families can.
That is what a war is.
No one here is right, no one here is wrong.
There is only resentment and… blood.”
He paused, letting the truth sit in the cold air.
The boy stared at the floor, silent.
Kael then stepped closer.
“Your mistake today could have killed you,”
He began.
The boy’s shoulders stiffened, but Kael wasn’t done yet.
“It could have killed your mother.”
And those words landed even harder.
That one landed harder.
The boy’s head snapped up, fear flashing in his eyes.
“You think the Stonefangs would have stopped once blades were drawn? You think the Velmourn soldiers would have stayed calm? Today was not about one baby or one stone.”
Finally, Kael’s voice became colder.
“Today was about twelve hundred years trying to wake up again.”
The boy’s face tightened, his hands curled into a fist.
That was when Kael’s voice became even heavier.
“Your father is gone,
So who protects your mother now?”
The boy’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
“You.”
Kael gave the answer for him.
It wasn’t a compliment.
It was a responsibility placed on small shoulders.
“And what did you do today?”
Kael asked.
The boy’s eyes dropped.
“I… I almost—”
“You almost endangered her,”
Kael finished for him.
“For a throw that would not bring your father back.”
Silence.
Absolute silence fell over the place.
“You hate them.
I know.”
Kael kept his eyes on the boy.
“You don’t have to like them,
Neither do you have to forgive them.
Not now.”
The boy blinked.
“But you will obey,”
Kael added in a firm tone.
“Because if you don’t, you will kill your mother with your hatred.”
The boy swallowed hard, his fists slowly unclenched, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, like he was fighting something inside himself.
Then he opened them again.
He looked at his mother.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were wet.
She wasn’t angry at him.
She was terrified of losing him too.
The boy’s chest rose and fell.
Then, he nodded.
“I will apologize.”