novelraw Chapter 104 : A Mother
Chapter 104 : A Mother
(Rooga POV)
By evening, the bruise on my cheek had darkened into the shape of a hand.
Every time I caught my reflection in the window, it glared back at me like a reminder — not of pain, but of shame.
Mother noticed the moment I stepped through the door.
“Rooga.” Her voice was soft at first. Then she saw my face. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, looking away.
She crossed the room in three steps, cupped my chin, and turned my head. Her fingers brushed the mark. “Who did this?”
“It’s fine.”
“Who?”
Her tone changed — that calm, dangerous whisper every child fears.
I hesitated, but when I didn’t answer, her voice hardened. “Rooga Valemont, tell me who did this to you.”
I sighed. “The blacksmith’s daughter.”
Mother went still. Then her magic flared — faint sparks of crimson light crackling along her fingertips.
Before I could say anything, she was already moving.
“Stay here,” she said, voice trembling with fury.
“Mother—”
But she was gone.
The sound of hammers echoed as we reached Torren’s forge — the warm glow spilling into the street. Mother stormed ahead, her hair almost glowing in the firelight.
Torren looked up from his anvil, startled. “Selene? It’s been a while—”
“Where’s your daughter?”
He blinked. “Fera? What—”
“Tell her to come out.”
Torren hesitated. Then, from the corner, Fera appeared — arms crossed, chin up, unafraid.
Her eyes went straight to me. “You brought your mother?”
Mother stepped forward. “You struck my son.”
Fera didn’t flinch. “Because your son made a hopeless girl cry.”
Mother’s eyes narrowed. “He’s just a child.”
“So was she,” Fera shot back. “But I guess her feelings don’t count.”
I swallowed hard. “I was just trying to fit in.”
Fera turned to me sharply. “Then you fit in with the wrong ones.”
Her words hit harder than her slap.
“To think,” she said bitterly, “you looked so sweet when you were small. Now you look more like a crook.”
Everything froze.
The forge fire dimmed for a moment, as if afraid of what was coming.
Torren’s face went pale. He clamped a hand over his daughter’s mouth immediately. “Fera!”
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He turned toward Mother, bowing slightly. “My apologies, Selene. She speaks without thinking.”
Mother’s hands were trembling — not from fear, but fury. Sparks of vermilion mana began to flicker along her arms, building like lightning ready to strike.
I stepped back. “Mother, don’t—”
Her eyes were locked on Fera, voice trembling. “You dare call my son—”
A shadow fell over us, heavy as stone.
“Selene.”
Father’s voice.
He stepped from the darkness behind us, his presence cutting through the heat like cold steel. His expression was calm — too calm.
Then, without warning, he moved. A soft tap of his finger against her neck — precise, practiced.
Mother collapsed into his arms, unconscious before her body hit the ground.
Torren froze. Fera gasped. Even the forge flames stilled for a breath.
Father sighed quietly, adjusting her gently. “I thought it was strange not seeing my wife at the house.”
His eyes turned toward me. “Rooga… your mother asked to go with you to the village, didn’t she?”
I nodded, barely able to speak.
“I knew it,” he said softly. “I can’t leave her alone. I’m afraid someone will die if I do.”
He looked down at her sleeping face, voice lowering. “She hides it well, but she loves you more than the others. Every time someone hurts you, she burns inside.”
Then his gaze flicked toward Fera.
It wasn’t angry, just sharp enough to make even Kain back up if he’d been here.
“Torren,” Father said, calm as a storm about to break, “I suggest you teach your daughter to measure her words.”
Torren bowed deeply. “Understood.”
Father nodded once, then turned, carrying Mother in his arms.
The walk home was silent.
The night wind cooled the heat that still lingered in the air.
I followed behind, staring at the ground, my thoughts a mess of guilt and confusion.
I hadn’t meant for any of this to happen — not the insult, not the slap, not the anger.
Father didn’t speak until we reached the gate. “Rooga.”
I looked up.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “if you want to fit in, start by not losing yourself.”
Then he walked inside, leaving me alone under the stars.
(Darius POV)
The house was quiet.
Everyone had gone to sleep hours ago, but I stayed by Selene’s bedside.
Her breathing was soft now—steady—but earlier it had been uneven, shallow from the exhaustion after the outburst.
The moonlight through the window painted her face in silver. Even in rest, she looked like she was holding something inside—fear, guilt, anger—maybe all of it.
I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Selene,” I murmured. “You can’t keep burning yourself every time someone touches him.”
She stirred, eyes fluttering open.
“Darius?” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
She sat up slowly, wincing as if the memory of earlier still ached. “I lost control.”
“You did,” I said softly. “And I understand why. But…”
I hesitated, then let out a slow sigh. “It isn’t fair, you know. You only have eyes for him.”
Her gaze met mine—confused at first, then defensive. “That’s not true.”
“You say that,” I said gently, “but I see how you look at him. The way you worry, how quickly you act when he’s hurt. It’s not the same with the others.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “I love them all.”
“I know you do,” I said. “But love isn’t always equal, even when we wish it were.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, looking at the floor. “Selene… what about the others?”
She blinked. “The others?”
“Elara, Riaz, Eria.”
Her face went still.
I continued quietly, “When Rooga’s name comes up, your heart moves before your mind does. You forget there are three other hearts that need the same warmth.”
Her hands trembled. “I never—”
“You never meant to,” I said. “But you do.”
For a moment, her composure broke.
Her shoulders shook.
She covered her face with her hands and began to sob quietly.
“I didn’t notice,” she whispered. “I thought I was being fair. I thought I was doing my best.”
I reached out, pulled her close, and held her. Her head rested against my chest, and I could feel every uneven breath.
“I know,” I said softly. “I know the feeling.”
She looked up at me through tears. “What do you mean?”
I smiled faintly. “Having a child who follows your footsteps… who reflects everything you once were, but brighter. It’s hard not to be drawn to that.”
Her eyes softened.
“Rooga’s different,” I continued. “He carries my strength and your heart. He learns faster, sees deeper, and somehow even a goddess watches over him. It’s no wonder we love him a little too much.”
Selene closed her eyes. “It feels wrong, though. To love one child more than the others.”
“It’s not wrong,” I said, tightening my hold around her. “It’s human. What matters is that you see it now. That’s what makes you better than most.”
She didn’t answer, but her hand found mine, fingers trembling.
I kissed her forehead. “Tomorrow, we’ll do better. For all of them.”
Her voice was quiet when she spoke again. “You think he’ll forgive me?”
“He already has,” I said. “He’s too much like you for that.”