441- The Weight of Silence
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
The house stood a little farther from the rest of the village, from what I had noticed. It was a large chalet, robust and refined, full of glass panes. Edric and Lunara seemed to greatly appreciate the environment they lived in, with a view of the forest from every angle. In front of the house there was a small square that should belong to Anton and his brothers, as well as a ground-level fireplace in the garden.
We walked along the stone path until we entered the middle of the forest. The trees with their high canopies prevented the sun's rays from filtering through them. I focused on the sound of the animals and the smell of the pines surrounding us. The dry leaves beneath my feet crackled with every step.
The place was similar to the one my father had taken me to the first time I transformed, yet at the same time it was completely different. That forest was simple, even ordinary. In Eldoria, I felt as though the trees held ancient secrets, the energy was dense, but not in a bad way—rather, it was historical. I took a deep breath, holding back a smile. As a good history student and a born curious soul, that pleased me; it was as if I could feel at home.
Anton followed the path beside me in complete silence, focused on his own thoughts.
"Do you usually walk around half-naked around here?" I asked, glancing at him.
The fact that he still wore only shorts was not something that could be ignored, even with so many interesting things around to appreciate.
He swung his arms at his sides, relaxed.
"Only the hottest ones walk around like this," he replied, smiling.
I rolled my eyes.
"I don't know why I still ask."
"Because talking to me is very interesting, I understand."
"Thank heavens I'm going to meet the rest of your family, so I won't be limited to you to satisfy my questions. I hope the others aren't so conceited."
"They're not as cool as I am, if that's what you're wondering."
I had already regretted opening my mouth; the oppressive silence was much better when it came to him.
We continued along the path and I kept quiet, not starting a conversation or asking anything else. He wouldn't answer me anyway, he'd just say something silly to annoy me. I could hear the buzz of laughter and conversations, showing that we were getting closer to where the others were.
"No, nobody usually walks around half-naked around here," he said, after an endless period of silence. "I'm dressed like this because I was fighting with my brother and thought about running through the forest, but my plans were interrupted." He turned his head and stared at me.
"Why?"
"Because you woke up."
"You could have just left someone else to keep me captive," I retorted.
He shrugged.
"I wasn't there to keep you captive."
"Then why were you there?"
"Because I was the only one who met you; I thought you'd feel more comfortable if you woke up and found me, rather than someone you'd never seen before." He narrowed his gaze. "I just didn't think you'd wake up and I'd get stabbed again."
I ignored the way that sounded, as if he cared about me. That wasn't the case, nor would it ever be. I was his mission, and as a good leader's son, he wanted to be his father's pride so he could take over his legacy.
As nice as it was of him, I couldn't distort things, especially when I found myself so vulnerable. It was a very dangerous state, and any mere gesture of affection could seem like much more than it truly meant.
"It wasn't your fault," I said, licking my lips. He looked at me, confused.
"What wasn't my fault?"
I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the leaves covering the ground.
"My parents' death," I murmured, trying to return the favor he had done me. Anton had cared enough to stay close until I woke up, so he deserved to be consoled in some way. "The blame lies solely and exclusively with the Mercantes; you had no way of knowing they would arrive first, neither did I." I bit my cheeks so hard that the metallic taste of blood prickled my tongue. "I said goodbye to my father on the same day, earlier, with plans for dinner. It was supposed to be just an ordinary day in our routine... anyway, no one could have guessed, much less prevented it. My father was always smart and shrewd; if he had noticed their presence, he would have acted ahead of time. He was caught by surprise, just like us."
It didn't ease my pain, nor did it console me. I had no idea how he could have been caught after so long fleeing from those wretches. He knew their steps, he was experienced in that regard. How could he have let himself be caught? How?
I shook my head, dispersing my thoughts. I wouldn't find the answers I needed by tormenting myself. The only way to console my broken heart would be with the death of every damned one who murdered them.
"Did you, by any chance, poison me?" I changed the subject.
He laughed.
"Of course not, why are you asking that?"
"I don't know... it's strange that I didn't wake up when your mother and sister cleaned me and changed my dirty clothes."
He pressed his lips together, shaking his head, pondering and keeping his gaze forward.
"I think besides the physical exhaustion, there was mental exhaustion. You went through a lot of trauma last night, and that made your mind shut down so you could absorb it all."
Well, that made sense.
"So only a few hours have passed?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
The voices became louder; I could distinguish them. Men, women, and children. We passed through some trees and then I could see them. The Eldorians.
They were arranging things in the center of the forest, setting up tables with small wolf sculptures carved from wood. They illuminated the trees with floating candles, ready to be lit as soon as the sun went away. Colorful flowers and petals complemented the decoration. From the smell coming from afar, other members were preparing what would be served for dinner.
It wasn't hard to identify Anton's father; they were almost identical. Edric Eldoria was a tall man, with apparent muscles and an intimidating presence. He was leaning over a pile of wood, organizing what would be one of the several bonfires they were creating. Beside him was another man, talking to him, with dark skin, thinning hair, and lean muscles, absorbed in the task.
A woman with brown hair, blue eyes, and white skin was arranging the statuettes on the tables. Anton had a little of her, but he looked much more like his father. Beside her were two other women, one with dark brown skin, braided hair, tall, thin, with defined muscles; the other had light brown skin, was shorter, also thin, and had Asian features.