Chapter 230: Kamilo

The door slammed open with an abrupt screech. Stryg groaned and covered his face with a pillow. Maeve walked into the room, the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor.

“It’s time to get up, Stryg,” she said sternly.

“It’s too early,” he mumbled from underneath the pillow.

Maeve crossed her arms, “It’s already past noon. All you’ve done this week is train, mope around, and sleep. No more! It’s time you and I got out and did something besides work.”

“I’d rather spend the day in bed with you.”

“Hard pass.” Maeve pulled the curtains open and tossed Stryg’s pillow away.

He yelled in shock and turned away from the windows.

“Oh come on, you big baby,” she laughed.

“My eyes are sensitive,” he glared at her.

“I’m the vampire here. My eyes and skin are sensitive, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“But you weren’t just sleeping in a dark room.”

“You’re right,” she batted her eyelashes. “I’m also not the one who faced off against a seregulus all by himself or fought off a deadly lamia in a burning castle. Someone so brave, so strong, would never be afraid of a little sunlight, right? Right?”

“...Damn you.”

“That’s what I thought,” she smirked. “Now come on, open those eyes and get a good look. It’ll make things go faster.”

Stryg sighed. He sat up and jumped off the large bed. “Why do I listen to you?”

“Because I’m just too pretty,” she kissed his cheek and pushed him to the windows.

Stryg squinted and stared up at the sun. His eyes burned in the harsh light. The lilac irises shivered and expanded, covering the whites of his eyes completely. His world was suddenly bathed in darkness and silver outlines. He sighed in relief, the pain from the light gone. It would take an hour or so before his eyes returned to normal.

“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” she nudged his shoulder.

“I’m hungry,” he yawned.

“I already made lunch plans for us, come on.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door, “I also had my servants prepare some clothes for you.”

Stryg hung his head back and groaned.

~~~

The carriage dropped them off at a small mansion with blue pillars. Despite the cold, a pair of maids waited at the front door.

Maeve hopped off the carriage, a light step to her gait. Stryg followed behind with a watchful eye.

“Isn’t this still the residential area?” Stryg asked. “The restaurants are on the other side of the Villa District aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Maeve admitted. “But! I guarantee you’ll love the food here. The head cook makes the most amazing roast beef you’ll ever taste.”

“Mm…” he nodded reluctantly.

The maids welcomed them with a deep bow and showed them inside. They led Stryg and Maeve down a hallway and into a spacious waiting room.

“Our mistress will be with you shortly, Lady Mora,” the maids said in a practiced tone. They bowed once more and left without another word.

“Mistress?” Stryg cocked his head to the side.

“Ooh, look! There’s tea,” Maeve pointed.

A pot of steaming tea and a pair of cups sat on a small table, next to a vase of blue bellflowers.

Stryg ignored the tea and studied the room. “Why are we here, Maeve?”

“For lunch of course,” she smiled with a twitch.

Stryg narrowed his eyes, “You know I trust you, right?”

“...Yeah?”

“I don’t trust people easily.”

“I know,” she sighed weakly.

“So why are we here?”

“To eat lunch… and see a friend.”

“Friend? What friend?”

The door creaked open softly, an elegant woman in a vibrant blue dress strode in. Her brown hair hung down her shoulder, a bellflower rested on her ear. She glanced at Maeve, then settled her gaze on Stryg. Her deep blue eyes betrayed no emotion, her expression was indeterminable.

Stryg stiffened. His throat felt tight. He swallowed and uttered a single word, “Nora…”

“Thank you for bringing him, Maeve,” Nora Azol said with a tight-lipped smile.

Stryg spun around and looked at the vampiress in shock, “You did this?”

“I’m sorry, it was the only way you’d come,” Maeve winced.

“You lied to me,” Stryg mumbled, stunned.

“Never,” Mave shook her head and grabbed his hand.

He pulled away and stepped back. “...Why?”

Maeve bit her lip, her face paler than usual. “You don’t unders-”

“I asked her to. If you need to be angry, be angry at me,” Nora said coldly.

Stryg looked away, he couldn’t meet Nora’s eyes, not after what he’d done.

“Maeve promised lunch, yes?” Nora said. “My cooks are preparing it as we speak, it won’t be ready for another half-hour or so.” She gestured towards the hall, “Why don’t we take a walk? Just you and me, Stryg.”

Stryg glanced at Maeve, his eyes filled with anger and pain. He sighed quietly, turned around, and followed Nora down the hall.

They walked in silence, passing by room after room, window after window. Stryg didn’t notice or perhaps he didn’t care to look. He walked next to Nora, but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. Instead, he focused on his feet, one step at a time.

“I wanted to kill you, you know,” Nora broke the silence.

Stryg glanced at her hands and focused on any small movement, any indicator of a spell about to be cast.

“But then I thought, ‘No, that’s too quick, too painless,’” Nora said. “That’s when I realized I didn’t want to kill you. What I wanted was to hurt you, to make you feel the pain that I felt. The pain that kept me awake at night and stabbed at my chest every time I remembered.”

Stryg said nothing and stared back at his feet. If she wanted to hurt him, he deserved it.

“I wanted to hurt you so badly,” Nora said bitterly. “I wanted you to pay for stopping me that night at Widow’s Crag, for taking my choice away. I was so angry I could hardly breathe. But I knew you were strong, dangerous. I needed a plan. I needed time.”

“And now?” he asked reluctantly.

“I became preoccupied,” she said wryly. “As time passed, attacking you became too great of a risk. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone else…”

“What do you mean?” he whispered.

Nora stopped in front of a doorway and shrugged. “See for yourself.”

Stryg looked at her warily and slowly opened the door. The room was large but fairly empty. A vine of flowers hung from the ceiling above an ornate crib.

Stryg’s eyes widened, he gasped quietly. His legs felt as heavy as iron, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He simply stared.

Nora walked past him and made her way to the crib. She looked down at the sleeping baby and smiled. “His name is Kamilo. Kamilo of House Azol… and House Gale.”

“H-he’s…” Stryg swallowed. “He’s your…?”

“He’s my son,” Nora nodded with a proud smile. “He’s Clypeus’ son.”

The name of his best friend sapped away what little happiness had formed in his chest. Stryg bowed his head in shame. “...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Nora bit her lip, “It was hard… Carrying the child of the one you love and knowing your baby will never get to see him. I don’t think I would have gotten through it all without my mother and master Ismene.” She stared at Kamilo, sleeping peacefully in his blankets. “The night Kamilo was born, the moment I saw him, I understood. I finally understood.”

Stryg looked up, confused.

Nora took a deep breath, “I would never have heard Kamilo’s first cries, seen his wonderful little smile and beautiful eyes… I never would have seen my son if I had stayed on that cliff.”

She wiped her eyes, “I thought a lot about that night on Widow’s Crag. I wanted you to feel the pain that I felt…” She laughed bitterly, “It took me too long to understand that you already did. You punished yourself for Clypeus’ death more than anyone, didn’t you?”

Stryg bit his lip, “I led us to the wrong cliff.”

“What difference would it have made? The enemy was crawling through Widow’s Crag. We would have been found either way.”

“If we had been on the right cliff we could have met up with Loh and the others,” he trembled. “Clypeus could have been saved!”

“Do you think Loh and the others could have beaten two arch-mages and several high-masters?”

Stryg stiffened, “T-that’s…”

“The Cairn Tribe would have killed us all. Lord Noir barely managed to arrive in time because they were going easy on us and that only happened because we were a bunch of novices. The truth is whether we had been on the right cliff or not, we would have been attacked.”

Nora walked up to him and placed her hands on his trembling shoulders, “You may have led us to the wrong cliff. But the outcome would have been the same, people would have died, and Clypeus would have done anything to protect them. He was like that, honorable to a fault.”

“I-I… I couldn’t save him,” Stryg choked out.

“I know,” she whispered. “I don’t know if anything would have changed had I been there fighting beside you both. But what I do know is that my son and I are alive because two people stayed behind on that cliff and faced an insurmountable enemy with no expectations of survival.”

“What…?” Stryg blinked.

“...I’ve heard the things the other students whisper about you and Widow’s Crag. It got me thinking that you probably never heard the one thing you deserved to.” Nora bowed her head, “Thank you.”

His eyes welled with tears, “...I don’t deserve it.”

Nora bowed deeper, “Thank you for giving me a chance to see my son. Thank you for fighting next to Clypeus to his last breath. Thank you for what you did on Widow’s Crag. Thank you.”

Stryg fell to his knees and broke into tears. He buried his face in the floor and whimpered quietly. He cried for the loss of Clypeus. He cried for the hole that had been left in Kamilo’s life. But most of all, he cried for the little blue goblin child who had never been enough.

For the first time, Stryg felt that he wasn’t the failure he had always been told he was. For the first time, Stryg believed that maybe, just maybe, he was enough. The guilt he had been holding on to ever since that spring night slowly fell apart.

Kamilo woke up and began to cry.

Nora offered Stryg her hand, “I think it’s due time Kamilo meets his uncle.”

Stryg reached out hesitantly and grabbed her hand, “...Okay.”

He rubbed his face with the sleeve of his jacket as she pulled him towards the crib.

Kamilo shook his pudgy hands and wailed as loud as he could for his mother. Nora chuckled and picked him up in her arms. His tiny face was scrunched tight and bright red.

“There, there,” Nora cooed softly. She grinned at Stryg, “He’s pretty grumpy when he wakes up.”

Stryg nodded tentatively. He extended a finger, careful not to scratch the baby with his claw, and touched the somewhat-pale pudgy hand.

Kamilo grabbed the finger reflexively and opened his eyes. He looked at the intrusive blue finger for a split second then looked up at the strange blue face. Kamilo’s eyes widened, his small mouth made an ‘o’ shape.

Stryg froze, “...His eyes.”

Kamilo’s dark purple eyes watched him curiously.

“Yeah, one of our healers called it incomplete dominance, it happens in hybrids sometimes,” Nora smiled. “Something about my blue irises and Clypeus’ scarlet irises mixing into a new color. My mother thinks his eyes are strange, but I think they’re beautiful.”

“You’re right, they are,” Stryg whispered.

He pulled back his finger and offered Kamilo his pinky. The baby reached out and grabbed it. Stryg simply stared at Kamilo, at Clypeus’ legacy, and he realized he already loved the child in a way he had never thought possible.

Stryg smiled softly, “I’m sorry I can’t bring back your father. But I promise you, you won’t grow up in a world where people call you strange, you won’t be the odd hybrid. I’ll change this world. I’ll destroy and rebuild this Realm if I must.” Stryg swallowed the lump in his throat, “You won’t be alone, no matter what… You will have your mother and you will have me. I swear I will never abandon you.”

Kamilo giggled and laid his head on his mom’s chest.

“That’s a big promise,” Nora whispered.

Stryg nodded solemnly, “It has to be, he’s family. You both are.”

A knock rang on the wall.

Maeve stood in the doorway, “Hope I’m not interrupting?”

Stryg couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. “Not at all. Thank you, Maeve, for bringing me here. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Maeve ran over and wrapped her thin arms around them. She smiled wide, “What are friends for?”