Kael walked alongside Saria, the gentle rush of the river growing louder as they neared their destination. His thoughts were still a tangled mess, struggling to make sense of the emotions swirling inside him. He had always kept his distance from the villagers, particularly the girls, unsure of how to act around them. But with Saria, things were different. There was a warmth between them, a connection that Kael hadn't felt in years—perhaps ever. But as much as he wanted to believe it, he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't real, that Saria—someone so kind, so full of life—couldn't possibly want to be close to someone like him.
He caught himself glancing at her, but Saria was looking ahead, her hair fluttering lightly in the breeze, a serene smile on her lips. Kael felt a strange lump in his throat, unsure whether it was from the thought of her being so far above him in status, or simply the unfamiliar feeling of being cared for.
Before Kael could gather his thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the moment. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Tilly, the village head's son, and his band of friends sauntering toward them. Tilly had been bedridden for days after the forest incident. Kael didn't know the full story, nor did he particularly care, but he could guess the cause—Tilly's reckless summoning had likely left him with physical and magical aftereffects. It wasn't a surprise. Tilly had always been one to rush into things without thinking, bullying others to mask his own insecurities.
Kael had never liked Tilly. As children, they had clashed many times, and Kael had learned early on that the best way to deal with the boy was to simply stay out of his way. That had worked until now—until today, when Tilly seemed to have other plans.
As the group came to a halt in front of Kael and Saria, Tilly's eyes narrowed with an almost predatory gleam. His smirk was cocky, the same one he wore whenever he thought he had the upper hand. Tilly's followers formed a half-circle around Kael and Saria, blocking their path. Kael's eyes flicked to the boys behind Tilly. None of them looked like they were willing to back down. The group's stance was almost a challenge in itself, daring Kael to make the first move.
Saria noticed the tension in the air immediately, her smile fading as she looked from Kael to the group. Kael could see the concern in her eyes, but he wasn't about to back down now.
Tilly spoke first, his voice thick with mockery. "Well, well, look at this. Kael the loner and the princess of the village, walking hand in hand. What's next? You two off to practice some magic tricks, or is it just a little romantic stroll by the river?"
Kael's muscles tensed, the familiar anger beginning to bubble inside him. He could hear the ridicule in Tilly's tone, see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. It was obvious what he was trying to do—humiliate Kael in front of Saria. The words weren't new, but that didn't make them any less grating.
Saria's face flushed with discomfort, but she kept her composure, standing firm by Kael's side. "Tilly," she said, her voice calm but steady, "why don't you leave us alone? We're just walking to the river."
Kael could feel a slight tug at his chest. Saria had always been the one to speak up when it mattered, but today it felt different. She wasn't trying to please anyone. She was standing by him. But Kael knew that her words wouldn't change anything. Tilly had always been the type to push back harder when confronted.
Tilly chuckled, ignoring Saria's request entirely. "Oh, I'm just having some fun. It's not every day I see Kael—of all people—playing nice with the nobles," he said, his eyes flicking to Saria with a smirk. "You know, it's a shame. I thought you were better than this, Kael. But I guess even you've got your eyes set on the finer things now, huh?"
Kael's jaw clenched, and his fists tightened involuntarily. He hated this—hated the way Tilly made everything seem like a joke, like Kael was nothing more than a laughingstock. He could feel the adrenaline surging through him, his instincts telling him to fight, to wipe that smug look off Tilly's face.
Saria stepped forward, her tone sharp and unyielding. "Tilly, that's enough. You're embarrassing yourself," she snapped, eyes narrowed with anger. "Kael hasn't done anything to deserve this. Leave us alone."
The moment hung tense and heavy in the air. For a second, Tilly seemed like he might lash back at her—but then his smirk faltered just slightly. He glanced around, noting a few of the younger villagers passing by at a distance, watching curiously. Saria's words had drawn attention, and he knew better than to pick a fight with someone of noble blood. Especially now that her true lineage had spread like wildfire through the town.
He scoffed and rolled his shoulders as if brushing off her words. "Don't get it twisted, Saria. I'm not here for you," he said coldly. "Your little boyfriend, though... He's always had a mouth that needed shutting."
Kael's fists had already clenched. He had remained silent through it all, letting Saria speak first, letting his own storm brew in the back of his mind. But now—now that Tilly had crossed the line again—his patience frayed like a thread stretched too thin.
Why? Why was Tilly so obsessed with dragging him through the mud?
It wasn't just bullying. Kael could see that now. It was hate. Deep, irrational hate that festered beneath every word Tilly spat at him. And when he saw the fire burning in the eyes of Tilly's boys, the ones that circled in, step by step, like a pack of wolves closing in—it all clicked.
Tilly feared him.
Not for his strength. But for the name he bore.
Laparch. A cursed name. A name spoken with venom and dread by everyone in Thormans Village.
The revelation had come like poison from his stepfather's mouth—"You want to know the truth? You're the spawn of Rufus Laparch. That damned mage who tried to tear kingdoms apart. My wife was a fool to drag you from that battlefield."
The whispers had followed Kael ever since. Children were pulled away from him. Mothers eyed him like he carried plague. And Tilly—who'd always wanted to dominate Kael—now had a reason to believe he was justified in doing so.
And worst of all? Kael still refused to bow.
"You think just because you found out who my father was, it makes me something less than you?" Kael said quietly, his voice like a blade scraping stone. "You tried to crush me in that forest. And now here you are again, trying to stomp on what you couldn't kill."
Tilly sneered. "No one wants a monster's brat walking around like he's better than the rest of us."
Then one of the boys—taller, broad-shouldered, face like a half-formed brick wall—stepped forward a little too fast. Maybe he thought Kael would flinch. Maybe he thought Kael was just all talk now.
He was wrong.
Kael's fist flew with vicious precision, catching the boy clean on the cheek with a sickening crack that echoed like a drumbeat. The boy's eyes rolled back and he crashed to the ground, stunned and dazed.
Then chaos exploded.
Tilly screamed, "GET HIM!" and the rest of the group surged forward like a damn broken loose.