“You have my word that we’ll learn together how far your household’s power goes because I’ll be damned before letting this matter slide.”
Headmaster Onia turned her back to Phloria without giving her the opportunity to reply to the Headmaster’s allegations, but even if she didn’t, Phloria lacked the will to do so.
Even though Constable Griffon had reassured Phloria that her service record would not be affected by Kulah’s failure, most Headmasters didn’t agree with Tyris’s decision.
After their return, the assistants had told everything about their imprisonment. The part about how both Professors and the members of the army hadn’t hesitated one second to leave them behind during their escape attempts had caused quite a stir.
Not only was Phloria the officer in charge of the mission, but she was also alive and well. People were trying to pin all the blame on her since the Professors were already dead and no one wanted to taint their memory.
“I’m sorry, sis. This is all my fault.” Quylla said, inwardly cursing her own stupid mouth.
“Don’t worry, Quylla. She was just waiting for an excuse to spit her venom. This has nothing to do with you. At this point, I’m used to such treatment.” Phloria said with a sad smile.
Lith saw past her stoic expression and noticed all the pain she was hiding. The thought that he had left her alone to face such an unfair treatment stung at him hard. While Lith had spent his days since his return only obsessing with how to deal with Kamila and Quylla, Phloria had always been there for him.
She had listened to all of his rants and worries, even making sure that he would eat properly. He had forgotten that unlike him, Phloria treasured her career. A lot of people resented Lith for the most disparate reasons, but he didn’t care about it one bit since his job as a Ranger was temporary.
Phloria, instead, had worked her whole life toward that goal, making countless sacrifices to prove herself to be more than just a spoiled girl who used her family name to rise in the army ranks.
“Don’t worry about Onia, Captain Ernas. She’s always been an uptight prick.” Lord Mefaal said, taking everyone by surprise. Not only because they expected the widower to be angry, but also because he looked more bored than most people in the room.
Yondra’s husband was a man in his late sixties of average height, with grizzled hair and a well-trimmed beard. There was no trace of pain or rage in his chestnut eyes, only bitterness.
“You are not at fault. It’s just that to cover the shame of losing their cream of the crop staff, the academies need a scapegoat. As for my wife, don’t feel guilty about her fate. She died as she lived, working.” His words were cold enough that they sounded cruel.
“Thank you, Lord Mefaal.” Phloria said, pondering carefully her words.
“I want to assure you that Professor Yondra’s contribution was…”
“Save it for the memorial speech. Rainer told me about her final days and that was more than enough for me.” He replied before turning to Lith. “Ranger Verhen, I presume? You were her last pet project. I hope she treated you well.”
At those words, a small group of people joined the conversation. They were all dressed with the colors of the Mefaal household and were looking at the three Kulah veterans with an odd mix of envy and annoyance.
Yondra’s children were old enough to have children of their own and along with the resemblance with their late mother they all bore a stern expression.
“She did.” Lith nodded. “I’m here to pay my respects to Yondra and to pass onto you her final words.”
“Nice. Less than a month and you were already on a first-name basis.” Said a man in his late forties while wrinkling his nose so much that Lith almost expected him to spit at any moment.
Lord Mefaal squeezed his eldest son’s shoulder and forced him to shut up before asking Lith to proceed.
“Here? Wouldn’t it be better somewhere a little more private?” Lith asked.
“Here is perfect.” Lord Mefaal said.
Lith performed a series of hand gestures and gibberish before materializing a hologram of Yondra’s final moments in the middle of the circle of people, doing his best to imitate her voice.
“Please, tell my children that I didn’t abandon them and that my last thoughts, even this last caress was for them.” The hologram said, her voice kind and caring despite the pain from her deep wounds.
“Tell them that I’m sorry I could never be the mother they deserved. I wasted my life, always giving priority to the wrong things. In the end, I let everyone down. My family, Rainer, even you. If only I could have one more…” Lith did his best to express all of her honesty and regret, yet his audience seemed underwhelmed.
“Thank you, Ranger Verhen.” Lord Mefaal gave both Lith and Phloria a small bow, quickly followed by the rest of the family. “I can assure you that neither of you will have problems from us.
“Between our support and Rainer’s testimony, you can rest assured that Onia will not be a problem.”
“How can you all be so cold?” Quylla was the only one moved to tears. “You have literally seen her die and yet you don’t care about how she got wounded or if she was avenged?”
“We know about you, Mage Ernas.” Said a woman in her late thirties while wiping Quylla’s tears with a handkerchief. She was wearing a gentle smile and a motherly expression on her face.
Even Lith was shocked seeing that Yondra’s daughter was more touched by Quylla’s words rather than those of her own mother.
“You’re an orphan, so you probably assume that family is something sacred, but it’s not. My mother died to me a long time ago, after I understood that she loved her students and long lost civilizations more than me.
“She spent time with me only to force me to learn magic, losing interest as soon as she realized that I wasn’t gifted. The opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference and I’ve long since grown indifferent to my mother as much as she was to me.
“I’m not cold, child. It’s just that I stopped grieving her years ago.”
“Why do you think we’re holding the funeral here?” Lord Mefaal asked. “She spent more time at the Black Griffon than at our home, making these people her real family.
“I don’t know if her regret was sincere and honestly, I don’t care. It’s too little and too late for it to matter.”
Once Phloria, Quylla, and Lith were alone again, they remained silent for a long time, each one of them lost in their thoughts.
“When I was little, I hated how Mom always tried to mess with my life, ordering me around and trying to force me to do what she considered to be the best thing for me.” Phloria said after a while.
“Now that I’m old enough, however, I finally understand why she always worked her ass off to dine with us and spent every moment of her free time badgering me. It was her twisted, manipulative, relentless way to be an important part of my life.”
“Can we leave?” Quylla asked. “Suddenly I feel like hugging Mom and telling her I love her.”
