Chapter 90: The Weight Of Night
The sky above Velhart town was dark and heavy, the kind of darkness that seemed to swallow everything. The moon was hidden somewhere behind the thick clouds, leaving the streets empty of light. In that heavy night there was a woman crouched in the quiet park that was surrounded by several trees, her black hair swaying a little in the restless air.
She had been sitting there for quite some time already. After the conversation with Kael, she had abandoned the thought of doing something foolish to herself, yet she still did not know what path to take from here. It was already clear that Caelum had cast her aside in his heart, that he had severed her from him, and now she could not even claim the right to demand anything of him. Without the tavern, without her place, she had nothing left. So she sat there beneath the trees, waiting for time to pass, waiting without knowing what she was really waiting for.
"The moment the tavern grows quiet, when the laughter fades and the men leave, I will go and speak to Sister… I do not know what she will say to me after everything, but she is the only one I have now."
Even as she thought that, her mind was not calm. Her chest felt tangled, as though part of her was still bound to him. She was worried about him still, though another part of her burned with anger. Could she really do nothing at all for herself?
"No… he is nothing to me now. That man is no longer my husband. He tore apart my clothes in front of so many men. That was not a man, not my Caelum. That was a monster. A cruel monster."
The night deepened and grew colder, the breeze turning sharp, brushing against her skin until she shivered. Yet even that cold was not the worst thing she felt. The ache in her stomach gnawed far more than the wind ever could. Hunger made her weak.
She was very hungry, so much so that she could barely keep her body still. The last time she had eaten was at noon, only a small piece of bread she had managed to buy with the few coins left with her, and since then not a single bite had passed her lips. The hunger pressed on her harder now, perhaps because she was carrying a child. She pressed her hand against her stomach and whispered softly, "I am sorry, little one. Soon your mother will feed you, I promise. Just wait a little longer."
For a while she simply sat there with those words echoing in her chest, but at last she forced herself to rise to her feet. She could not remain waiting any longer, no matter how much fear and hesitation clung to her. In the end, she had to speak to her. She had no other choice. With that, she turned and began to walk toward the tavern.
When she reached the place her heart skipped, and she froze for a brief moment. The little place stood before her, light spilling warmly from its windows, but strangely there was no sound. At this time it should have been filled with the noise of men, the clatter of mugs, the laughter and banter. Yet it was quiet.
"Has the tavern already closed?" she wondered, uneasy.
She stepped forward slowly, each foot heavy with hesitation, until she reached the doorway. Her hands curled tightly into fists. "What am I afraid of? I have been in this tavern for more than a decade. I grew up here listening to adventurers laugh, watching them drink, carrying their orders to their tables, even cooking in that kitchen. This place is mine as much as anyone's. So what is stopping me today? I cannot live like this, hiding. I must talk to her, at least for my child."
But just as she was about to step inside, she collided with something solid and staggered back. When she lifted her head her eyes widened. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not noticed her sister standing right before her, tall as ever, her muscular frame casting a long shadow, arms crossed against her chest, and her eyes glowing faintly against the dark of her face.
"Hey, is this really the time for you to come here? Where have you been all day?" her sister asked, her voice rough with anger.
Eska could not meet her eyes. For some reason her gaze dropped to the ground and her lips trembled, but no words came out.
Her sister took a step closer, the weight of her presence heavy. "I asked you a question, Eska. Where were you?"
Her lips parted at last. "S-sister… I-I was just..."
"What? I know your husband was released today. I thought you would be with him, spending time as a wife should, but even then what were you doing wandering around all this time? You are not using him as an excuse, are you?" Her voice was sharp, but beneath it there was something strange, some other feeling that Eska could not name. "You better not..."
Before she could finish, Eska suddenly lifted her face, her eyes shimmering with tears, her hands clenching at her clothes. "Sister… he divorced me. Sister, he truly did." Her voice broke, and the tears spilled down fully as she looked at her with an expression full of pain.
Her sister's face twisted into anger. "W-what? What are you saying? Are you joking with me? Or is this just some petty fight between a couple, the kind that ends tomorrow?"
Eska shook her head hard, her fingers digging even tighter into her clothes though the tears would not stop. "No, Sister. It is not that. We never fought before, not once, but this time he said it clearly. He said it with his own mouth. He has cast me aside. Sister, he divorced me."
For a long while her sister said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and cutting. Then suddenly she turned away without another word and began to walk off.
Eska froze, staring at her retreating figure. The tears blurred her sight, and her chest ached so much she could hardly breathe. Why? Why was her sister leaving like that? Why would she turn away now?
But before Eska could think further, her sister returned, and what she carried made Eska's eyes widen in shock. Resting on her broad shoulder was an axe, the kind used for splitting wood, yet the way she held it, the way her eyes gleamed, made it clear this was not for firewood.
Her sister stopped before her and spoke in a low growl, "Come with me, Eska. Tell me where that bastard is. I am going to tear him apart and split him into pieces. Where is he now? In your house? Somewhere else? Tell me."
Eska's thoughts spun wildly. She understood her words, yet she could not understand why her sister was like this, why she was acting in such a way. She had always been quick to anger, but this was different, darker.
Then her sister's eyes glinted as she added, "You refuse to tell me? Fine. I will find him myself. How dare he hurt my daughter like that? Who does he think he is? You worked yourself half to death for his family, and this is what he gives you? Go inside, I will be back soon."
Eska's breath caught. Her eyes widened further, not because of the threat, but because of the word. Daughter. Why did she call her that? She had always demanded to be called Sister, never once Mother. Yet the truth was there, plain and undeniable. Eska had been raised here, taken in, given shelter, given a place to belong. How could she ever think of ending her life, when she still had someone who had always been her mother?
The woman who had raised her began to walk past, but Eska rushed forward and spread her arms in front of her, blocking her path. Her voice was soft, breaking, "Please… don't go. Sister, don't hurt him. I beg you, don't."
Her sister let out a harsh sigh. "Move aside. I am going to kill that bastard. Move, Eska."
But she did not move. Instead she whispered, "I will not. You will not hurt him. No matter what he did."
Her sister's lips parted as if to roar at her, but before any words came, Eska's stomach let out a loud growl. She flushed red in embarrassment and looked down.
Her sister's anger shifted for a moment. "Are you hungry?"
Eska nodded faintly. "Yes… very much so. Would you care to give me some food? I do not have any money with me though."
Her sister turned away with a scoff. "To hell with money. What kind of daughter pays to eat in her mother's tavern? Now get yourself inside. You will make it yourself, because I will not be cooking for you."
And in that moment, through all her tears, a small smile finally broke across Eska's face. "That will do."
---
After some time had passed, Eska found herself sitting at a table inside the tavern, quietly eating though her eyes were still wet, and the tears had not completely dried no matter how much she tried to hide them. Beside her stood her sister, and in her strong hands she carried a long plate filled with steaming meat. Even though she had insisted earlier that Eska should prepare food for herself, in the end she had not allowed her to lift a finger, and had placed the food before her like a mother feeding her child.
While eating slowly, Eska began to speak, though the words came out haltingly at first. She told her sister the things she felt she had to, the things that could not remain hidden anymore. She left unsaid the shameful memories of Caelum tearing her dignity in front of men and the moment she had almost given in to despair, but she spoke of the knight, of the countless times she had been forced, of the cruelty she had endured in silence.
Her sister listened, and when Eska's trembling words finally faded into the quiet air of the tavern, she stood frozen, her broad shoulders stiff, her eyes wide with shock. Then, to Eska's surprise, the strong and angry woman's eyes began to glisten with tears, and she sank slowly to the ground as though the weight of the story pressed her down. She whispered in a broken voice, "E-Eska… how did you survive all of this? And why did you never tell me about that bastard before? Why did you keep everything locked inside yourself, hiding from me, when I was right here all this time? How could I let my daughter suffer like this without even knowing? How could I fail to see what was happening before my very eyes? Eska, I should have been with you, I should have given you the support you needed, but I wasn't there. I did not even realize while you were struggling so close to me. How could I miss everything? If I had known earlier, perhaps… perhaps I could have done something, perhaps I could have spared you from at least some of this. Eska, you are stronger than I ever imagined. I am so sorry. I am truly, truly sorry. I could not do anything when you needed me most. I am really, really sorry. But—"
Before she could finish, Eska stopped her with a trembling smile, her voice carrying a warmth her tears could not hide. "And guess what, Sister? Soon, you will become a grandmother."
Her sister lifted her head slightly at those words. For a moment she simply stared, and then the despair that had been crushing her seemed to break apart and scatter. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and though she stayed silent for a breath, her voice came steadier after. "So you are going to be a mother, are you? I should have expected as much, though I never imagined I would hear it today." She let out a faint, shaky laugh. "But you are still childish, Eska. You need help, and you will need guidance to raise this child. Then let it be known, your mother is here. I will not let you face this alone."
Eska nodded softly, her heart swelling with a fragile kind of joy, though there was still something left on her mind. She raised her eyes and asked, "But where is Effie today?"
Her sister raised one brow, then sighed as though the memory of the morning pressed on her. "That troublemaker was worried sick about you at dawn. I sent her to look for you, but she could not find you anywhere, so I had no choice but to send her back home. The tavern has felt dead without you, Eska, truly lifeless."
Eska smiled faintly at those words, though she did not answer aloud. The silence was not empty, for her heart was filled with warmth. She had someone who cared for her more deeply than anything, someone who would never let her fall again.
Her sister stood and brushed the dust from her knees, her voice steady and firm again. "You have suffered enough. From now on you will stay with me, and I will not hear of any refusals. Also, do not think you can sit idle, you will work hard from tomorrow. I will not let you off easily."
Eska rose with her, and there was light in her eyes as she replied, "You can be sure of it. I will not disappoint you, I promise."
Her sister gave her a nod, and though her words were short they carried weight. "I know you won't."
---
Later that night, Eska sat quietly at the edge of a wooden bed in a small room, gazing out the window where the moon, pale and tired, hid itself halfway behind a drifting cloud. She whispered softly to herself, "I suppose from this night onward, a new life begins. It feels a little strange, a little heavy, and perhaps I will not fall asleep so easily, but tomorrow there will be work waiting for me again. That is nothing new." Her hand slipped gently to her stomach. "But you… you are new." Her lips curved faintly into a smile.
At last she lay down upon the bed, rolling once, then again, her face carrying a worried expression as her thoughts tangled in silence. "I wonder what he is doing now."
That question lingered like an echo in her mind, but exhaustion pulled at her, and before long her eyes closed and she sank into deep sleep. The room was still, the air heavy with night, until the wooden door creaked softly open.
The sound of footsteps entered, faint yet unmistakable, filling the silence because the night was otherwise too quiet. Soon a shadow loomed large over her sleeping figure. It was her sister, her face softened in the dark, carrying a strange expression that was perhaps sorrow, perhaps love, perhaps both. She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, watching her for a long moment.
Without a word she lifted a white blanket and tucked it around Eska's body, covering her gently. A faint, sad smile touched her lips as she whispered under her breath, "In the end you are just a fool, Eska."
With that she rose and left the room, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving the night in silence once more.
---
At the same time within a lonely street that was shrouded in darkness, where the only light came from the softly glowing magic lamps standing on both sides, a man with dark hair was walking in an abrupt and restless manner, and in his hand he carried a bottle filled with something strong.
After a while he suddenly stopped in his steps and without hesitation raised the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back and drinking from it so fiercely that the liquid spilled down his throat and burned him, yet he did not care in the least, and when the bottle came down again he staggered forward once more, his voice breaking the silence of the night as he muttered to himself with growing anger.
"Eska, Eska, you bitch... you filthy bitch. Why did you do that to me, how could you, was I really so worthless to you, was I really that bad, how dare you treat me like this, what are you?" His voice was not only a murmur but rose again and again until it was nearly a shout that echoed through the empty street.
"Oh, I was a fool, a complete fool to marry you. How could I have ever forgotten what you were, a mere waitress whose work was nothing but to please the customers. Tell me, just how many men did you go to with that smile of yours, how many did you let touch you, how many did you?" His words spilled out one after another, tangled with drink and bitterness.
Soon he staggered to a halt in front of a tree, leaning against it as if it alone could bear the weight of his fury, and there he placed the bottle down against the roots before his hands curled into fists so tight that his nails pressed into his skin, and then in a burst of sudden violence he began to strike at the bark. His fists rose and fell again and again, each blow delivered with the full weight of his strength, yet the tree did not break, it did not even splinter, it only stood there indifferent to his rage.
Blood soon welled across his knuckles, dripping down his hands in crimson streams, yet even when the pain should have forced him to stop he ignored it, instead striking harder, faster, as if his flesh could outmatch the wood if only he refused to give in.
"Eska... Eska... Eska... fuck you, Eska," he roared between ragged breaths, each word sounding more desperate than the last, and his voice broke again in drunken rage.
Yet only a short distance behind him, hidden by the shadow of another tree, stood a woman dressed in white, her figure half concealed but her gaze unyielding. Her eyes were fixed upon him, sharp and watchful, as she observed the madness that consumed him.
---
(Chapter Ended)