Abram sat alone in his study, a low fire crackling in the hearth.
The parchments on his table were filled with his notes, troop positions, and the dwindling count of their supplies.
It was times like these that made him crave alcohol but he had more self control than that. Not a single drop will make it into his body. Not while they were being sieged.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away the exhaustion that was present in every line of his face.
The door creaked open, and he didn't look up. He already knew who it was. Maria.
"Abram." She said, her voice low. He recognized that tone.
He sighed, setting down the quill that he'd even forgotten was in his hands. "You should be resting." He said. "Bellamy almost got you."
"We both know I won't rest. Not until I say what I came to say."
He looked up, his eyes tired. "Then speak."
Maria stepped closer, her hands clenched. "Let me fight. In the next battle. Let me stand beside you, beside our sons."
He stared at her for a moment, then stood. "No."
"No? That's all you have to say?"
"Yes." He replied. "You are too important. If you fall—"
"I know what happens! I know what the Dryad might do! I live with it! Every. Fucking Day." She said, her voice filled with emotion. "But if I stay idle, if I do nothing while our sons fight and die, what kind of mother, what kind of wife, what kind of warrior would I be?"
"You are already all of those things," Abram said quietly, "and more. But if you fall, Maria, if you die, then every stroke of the sword, every drop of blood spilled, it would have been for nothing."
Her voice cracked. "And if we lose because you refused help when it could have made a difference? What then?"
Abram didn't respond immediately. He clenched his jaw, and he looked away. He'd refused Darius' help and his son had died but this was different. Maria was the whole reason this war was being fought.
It was much better for him to die, and keep the Dryad from destroying everything, than for Darius' death to mean nothing.
"You know I'm right, Abram." Maria said softly. "You just can't stand the thought of losing me."
"I can't stand the thought of you dying, Maria. That's not the same." Abram said. "But do you know the thought I can't stand more? The thought that everything we've built, the Ross name, our sons, everything being destroyed by a raging Calamity!"
They stared at each other, Abram breathing hard from his words.
Maria stared at him, her mouth opening and closing. Then, without another word, she turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Abram stood still for a few seconds, staring at the closed door. Then, he exhaled. He needed fresh air.
He walked out of his study, making his way through the hallways to his favorite balcony.
After a few minutes of walking, he entered the room, making his way to the balcony and a few steps before he stepped onto it, voices floated to him through the night.
"I keep thinking about him, you know." Felix muttered. "About Darius. For me, he's always been there. By the time I was old enough to retain my memories, he was already born."
"He'd always been the one I shared my jokes with. And now, I turn to my side with something funny and there's no one there."
There was silence for a few seconds before Felix continued. "I envied him, you know? He always knew what he wanted. Always had that fire."
"Yeah." Ren's voice got to his ears. "Now that he's gone, I realize that I always looked up to him. He was the one who took me to my bloodbinding trial. The one who first taught me the basics."
"He was the one who made everything feel stable. He stood like an old tree. Like if Darius was here, nothing could go wrong."
"God, I miss him." Felix whispered.
"Me too." His last son said.
Abram exhaled, stepping onto the balcony and announcing his presence, not with words, but by standing beside them.
The brothers turned, surprised.
He looked out into the distance, looking over the slowly emptying village, before speaking.
"I remember when Darius was born." He said quietly. "He didn't cry like most children. He just stared up at me, like he was already studying the world, ready to bend it to his will."
Neither son spoke. They let him talk.
"Felix, you were the quiet one. Observant. Always thinking. You asked questions that made grown men uncomfortable. And Ren... you were the wild one. The spark. You reminded me of Maria in all the best and worst ways."
Ren chuckled, and Felix smiled faintly.
"I know I'm not the best at saying these things." Abram swallowed, trying to remove the lump in his throat. "But I want you both to know something. Something I should have said a long time ago."
"I am proud of you. Of all three of you."
His voice cracked slightly.
"Darius was a warrior. A leader. Felix, you're a shield to those around you. And Ren... you're a blade. Sharp, bright, and dangerous."
"I've tried to prepare you for a world that doesn't care about us. But I never said how much I admire you." He paused. "How much I love you."
Felix turned away, wiping at his eyes.
Ren stepped forward, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.
"We'll make it count, Father. Darius didn't die for nothing. None of us will."
The three men stood together in silence as words long since kept within were released.
Abram had always held himself back with the way he'd grown up. He'd always wanted to give his children more than he'd ever gotten. But in that moment, he realized that he'd been the one chaining himself to the ground.
He'd been the one using his father and his memories as an excuse to not do better.
And that was one thing he'd always regret till the end of time.