Under the soft, golden glow of the morning light, Zaek and Aelira stood once again before the weathered door of the blue cottage. It was the same door where, only days ago, Aelira had been met with a scream of "Monster" and a bucket of cold water.
?The air in Oryndel was sweet with the scent of blooming flowers, but for Aelira, it felt like lead.
?“Are you sure you want to do it alone?” Zaek asked, his hands tucked into his belt. “I can come along. I’m pretty good at being the bad guy if things go south.”
?Aelira kept her eyes fixed on the wood grain. Her fingers twitched at her sides, but her stance was firm.
?“No,” she said. “Remember what you said, Sensei? I should be the one to give her closure. I started this. I have to finish it.”
?Zaek stepped back, a faint, prideful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
?Hmph, he thought. Kids grow up faster than we like to admit. One day they’re crying over a wooden sword, the next they’re walking into a storm with their heads held high.
?Aelira took a deep breath and knocked. Thump. Thump. Thump.
?A few moments later, the latch turned. Flora appeared, her worn clothes and the deep lines on her face making her look older than her years. But as the morning light hit her, Aelira saw it clearly for the first time.
?She really does look like her, Aelira realized. The same eyes... the same weary kindness.
?“Aelira?” Flora’s voice was breathless with hope. “Is it you? Did you... did you learn anything? Come inside, please. Quickly.”
?The warmth in Flora’s voice was like a knife to Aelira’s heart. She followed the old woman into the small, tidy room that had once belonged to her nanny.
?“Did you find anything in the letters?” Flora asked, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. “Did something happen at the manor? Is she... is she coming home?”
?Aelira turned to face her. Flora looked like a woman who had spent 2,190 nights staring at a door, waiting for it to swing open.
?Protect the living.
?Aelira steadied her breathing and looked Flora directly in the eyes.
?“I couldn’t find her, Madam Flora,” Aelira said softly. “The letters, the money... the trail went cold. I’m so sorry. I failed to find where she went. I failed my promise.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
?The room fell into a deafening silence. Flora froze. Then, slowly, a soft, dry chuckle escaped her lips.
?“...Madam Flora?” Aelira whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
?“I’m sorry, child,” Flora said, wiping a stray tear with her thumb. “It’s just... I think I put too much on your shoulders. I let myself hope for a big secret, some grand mystery that would explain everything. I was being a silly old woman.”
?“But... you trusted me,” Aelira stammered, her own vision blurring.
?Flora reached out and took Aelira’s hands. Her skin was rough and calloused, but her touch was incredibly gentle—just like Lassandra's.
?“I gave those letters to you because you were the only one who still cared enough to ask,” Flora said. “I’m not going to blame you for failing to find a needle in a six-year-old haystack. You gave me something better than an answer.”
?“What... what could I have possibly given you?”
?“You showed me that someone still cared about my daughter,” Flora whispered, a sad but peaceful smile appearing on her face. “Even after six years, you haven't forgotten her. Knowing that Lassandra’s heart still lives in yours... that is enough.”
?Aelira felt a crushing weight lift from her soul. For the first time in days, the world didn't feel gray.
?“Still—”
?Flora put a finger to her lips, shushing her. A look of profound, hidden wisdom settled into the old woman's eyes.
?“It's fine,” Flora said. “After six years of silence, I already knew the truth in my heart. I don't need it confirmed, and I don't need to know who is responsible. I cannot push a young soul like yours into that darkness. She wouldn't have wanted that for you.”
?Aelira looked at her, stunned. In that moment, Flora didn't seem like a grieving mother—she seemed like a fortress.
?“Go now,” Flora said, her voice turning firm but kind. “Go and become the person she hoped you would be.”
?Before Aelira could process the dismissal, she was ushered out. The heavy wood door clicked shut, leaving her in the cool morning air.
?Inside, Flora leaned against the wood, her breath hitching as she listened to the muffled voices outside.
?“Is it done?” she heard Zaek ask.
?“I... I think so, Sensei,” the girl replied. Her voice was small, trembling with relief. “She told me it was okay.”
?“Acceptance rather than seeking justice,” Zaek mused. “She realized that uncovering the truth would only bring more pain. She’s a strong woman, Aelira. I don’t think I’d have the strength to do what she just did.”
?Zaek looked down at his disciple. He didn't see a troublesome student or a noble of Viremont. He saw the living legacy Lassandra had left behind—the one who would carry a dead woman’s kindness into a world that desperately needed it.
?He smirked. One day, he thought, she’ll carry my memory the same way.
?Aelira cast one last glance at the crumbling blue house. “Sensei… before we leave.”
?A few minutes after the sound of their footsteps had faded, Flora slowly opened her door. She walked out onto the small porch, looking at the dusty road.
?“Hmm? What is this?”
?She noticed a small, heavy leather pouch tucked behind a flower pot. She picked it up, and the familiar, heavy jingle of coins filled the air. Inside were Gold Dalmas—more than enough to sustain her for a decade.
?“Silly girl,” Flora whispered, her voice finally breaking. “It wasn't necessary.”
?A single tear rolled down her cheek, carrying a lifetime of grief and a strange, new peace. It wasn't about the money; it was the fact that Aelira had thought of her future, just as Lassandra would have.
?“To think that girl raised such a lovely child,” she whispered to the empty road. “I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.”
?Flora closed her eyes, letting the morning sun warm her face.
?“It's okay, Lassandra... You might be gone, but you left behind quite a beautiful sapling.”
If you were in Flora's shoes, could you do the same? (Choose peace and closure over the painful truth?)
