Oscar and his father, Henry, returned after their emotional father-son moment. The day slowly darkened as the birds flew off to return to their nests.

In the small home, many food dishes lined up on the table. They were all of Oscar's favorites, like his mom's cheese soup, meat pie, and fruit salad.

"You're back in time." Gwen took off her apron. "Hurry up and sit. The food's going to get cold." She urged the men to eat. It had been over a year since they'd eaten together.

Oscar lifted the bowl of cheese soup and drank it, ruminating it in his mouth like a precious dew. Even though the food at the Pavilion was of higher quality, the flavor of this soup was intoxicating.

They happily ate around the small table, smiling and laughing. But Oscar could tell his mom looked off as if she was hiding something behind that smile. No doubt it was because of how worried she was for him.

After the dishes were wiped clean of food and their bellies full, Oscar took out a bag and placed it on the table. It fell to its side and spilled out a couple of gold coins.

"This is!" Henry and Gwen were shocked and speechless.

"I earned a lot. With this money, you won't have to worry about hard times. You can even live in the city, and I'll send you more money over time."

"No. This is your hard-earned money. We're not saving much, but we're floating by, alright. Life as an Exalt must be expensive; keep it for yourself." Henry stubbornly refused as Gwen nodded in agreement.

"No. I'm fine right now since the Pavilion takes good care of me. I want you to live well. Please don't refuse." Oscar bowed.

Henry and Gwen looked awkwardly at each other. This was too much money, and no doubt, Oscar worked hard for it.

"Then we'll take half. There's no way we can use all these gold coins. You keep the other half for yourself. As your parents, we shouldn't take so much from you." Gwen took out half of the gold coins and put them away.

"But…." Oscar wanted to say something, but Henry grunted. Oscar glanced at his father and ultimately nodded, taking away his bag of coins.

Next, the conversation shifted to how the village was. The shocking news came from Henry.

"They rounded up all the rejected kids?" Oscar exclaimed.

"An Exalt from the Pavilion came this year to find any hopefuls, but no one was Grade Four or above; heck, barely anyone had any Exolsia other than you two last year. So everyone was disappointed."

"And that's when they came?"

Henry nodded, "A month after that, a group of soldiers came and announced they were taking in all the kids that had Exolsia from Grade One to Three, including the ones from last year."

"Did this ever happen before?" Oscar racked his brains but had never heard of this.

"No. They said the Empire had opened up a military academy for all the children the Pavilion wouldn't take. Of course, no one said no. Everyone was happy to send their kids there."

Strange. This was very strange to Oscar. He brooded on this revelation silently as his parents looked worryingly at him.

'The Pavilion stopped taking in Grades one to three because of the high amount of deaths. But what if that was an excuse? Usually, the military was an option for Exalts after leaving the Pavilion.'

Everything was suspicious. The increased elixir distribution and the recruitment of the leftovers to the military were all suspicious. Surely, this was burning through a lot of money and resources, but for what?

'Maybe Celestina may know.' Oscar decided to ask the princess when he returned.

Breaking off the mood, Oscar changed the topic, and they talked for an hour. As Oscar described his missions and battles, his parents changed expressions so many times.

"When do you have to leave?" Gwen asked.

"I will leave tomorrow morning to catch the early airship back."

"I see….Then make yourself comfortable. I will make you some warm milk with honey."

"That would be great later. But, right now, I want to visit Uncle Carlson." Oscar said.

Oscar's words made Henry and Gwen's expressions darken, prompting him to ask, "What happened to Uncle Carlson?" He was scared.

There should be no reason for them to look grim and sad unless something bad happens.

"He's become estranged. I tried to visit him, but he ran back, locked the door, and refused to let me in. He doesn't even sell his crops anymore, and I've only seen him buying alcohol." Henry said with a sad face. His longtime friend was suffering, yet he didn't know the reason. "What could have happened?"

"....I know why he's behaving like this." Oscar said in a low voice.

"You do? What happened to him?" Henry was agitated.

"It's…." Oscar explained what happened between him and Isabella and her harsh words of detachment.

Gwen put her hand over her mouth, speechless at Isabella's actions. Henry's face tightened as his nostrils flared.

"That girl….what does she think her father is?" Henry clenched his fists so hard that the veins might burst.

Oscar could not help but ask, "I don't remember her mother much. What kind of person was she?"

Gwen took a moment to catch her breath and calm down. "Clara was a great friend. We knew each other when we were young. She was so pretty, but her heart was kind."

"I remember no one could take their eyes off of her. Even in the times when merchants came down for business, they could not help but stare. She even received many proposals from them."

Oscar recalled what Isabella said about her mother wasting her chances to be more than a farmer's wife.

"However, she loved Carlson. They quickly married to avoid all the pursuers, and she stopped going out to prevent any trouble from knocking on their door. Isabella might say that Clara failed to live a better life, but I don't think that's true."

"When Clara was sick and dying, she was so sad to leave Isabella and Carlson, but she passed away smiling, thanking Carlson and Isabella for making her happy. For Clara, this was the best life." Gwen said while wiping away her tears.

"I didn't realize Isabella thought this way. She was very young when Clara passed, so maybe she took it all the wrong way. Death can be scary for children, and their minds can be turned upside down." Henry added.

"I understand now." Oscar looked serious. "I have to see Uncle Carlson. I need to talk to him."

Henry and Gwen glanced at each other before sighing.

"Maybe he'll respond to you. But make sure not you don't say anything that could cause him to act crazy." Henry advised.

Under his father's instructions, Oscar quickly left and headed to Uncle Carlson's farm. It was dead at night, but Oscar knew where to go. Soon, he spotted a small home surrounded by fields of withered grains.

Near the front door, Oscar noticed how not a single light was lit in the home, leaving it completely dark inside.

KNOCK KNOCK

His knocking did not induce a response from within. Oscar continued knocking.

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYONE. GET OUT!"

This voice was Carlson's. But it was not as lively or gentle as Oscar remembered. Instead, it was hoarse and mixed with emotions of anger, sadness, and resignation.

"It's me, Uncle Carlson." Oscar said.

"......"

There was no response for a while, but Oscar waited. He would wait the entire night if he had to.

Then the door opened, and Oscar trembled with emotion.

The cheerful and fatherly Carlson looked like a ghost. His cheeks were sunk, and his eyes were bloodshot. He used to have a slight belly and large arms, but now he was thin like a stick.

Oscar nearly cried. Elder Saul told him about the differences between keeping up a lie and telling the truth from the start. He decided to tell Carlson the truth, but this was the result.

A haggard person who is a shell of who he once was. Broken. Lifeless.

"Uncle…."

"Come in." Carlson muttered.

Inside, he lit a candle to give some light.

Oscar saw many bottles of wine and barrels of ale. The floor, walls, and table were dusty, as if no one had lived in this house for years. He had been here when he was a kid, and this was a complete contrast.

'Was I mistaken?' Oscar hung his head down. 'I hesitated when sending the letter, but should I have followed that hesitation and not sent it.'

"Sit. It's been a long time. You've grown." Carlson put on a weak smile that scrunched up his entire face.

Oscar could not help himself from bowing. "I'm sorry, Uncle Carlson. This would never have happened if I had never sent that letter." His eyes began to tear up.

Carlson looked at the young boy and sighed, "It's not your fault. If anything, I'm glad it was you who told me. Don't blame yourself; you should never have been involved. This was the mistake of this old man."

"Uncle…."

"I sent her many letters, yet she never replied. I was a bad father for not noticing how much Clara's death affected her. If I did…." Carlson took a long swig from a bottle and groaned.

"I was her friend, but I didn't notice. Sometimes I wonder if I knew her at all." Oscar resigned.

"Same for me…. You know, I wanted Isabella to marry you. I knew she'd be happy and taken care of if you were her husband."

"If both of us could not become Exalts, that may have happened. But she might have just gone off to marry some merchant or go to the city." Oscar sighed.

"True." Carlson took another big swig, passing it off to Oscar.

Oscar looked at the bottle. He had never tasted alcohol and kept away from it, but now he didn't care.

"Ugh. It tastes horrible." Oscar choked on the burning sensation from the clear liquid.

"It's clear grain alcohol. It has a nice burn to it." Carlson continued to take a gulp.

"Uncle, if you keep drinking like this, you may die."

"Well, that doesn't matter to me. Clara's dead, and Isabella's left me. What else is there for me, Oscar?" Carlson asked with tears streaming down his face.

Oscar wanted to say something, to find the words that could get Uncle Carlson back on his feet. But his mind came up blank. There was nothing he could say.

"Instead of thinking about me, worry about yourself. You're a good lad, Oscar. Better than most. Don't end up like me, a failure. Live your best and hold your loved ones close."

"And…."

Carlson was silent as if the words were struggling to come out.

"If you see Isabella. Tell her that I love her. Even if she wants to forget me, abandon me, and never return. Tell her she's my daughter, and I will never stop loving her." Carlson looked at Oscar with his tear-ridden eyes.

Oscar stared at the broken man; his lifeless face had lifted with some spirit from this wish. It was a man's last wish at the end of his ropes.

"I will." Oscar bowed deeply. "I will make sure to follow your advice. If I ever see Isabella again, I will tell her how much you love her."

"Good….good." Carlson looked to be a peace. Soon after, his snoring started.

Oscar tidied up the entire house, cleaning it and making the sheets. He placed Carlson on the bed and left quietly. Uncle Carlson seemed to be having a good dream for the longest time.

When he returned home, his mom had a nice cup of warm milk with honey waiting for him. The soothing mild sweet drink washed off the lingering foul taste of the alcohol.

Oscar clenched his hands, watching his parents joke and smile.

'I will never abandon them.'

His mind turned to Frederick Klein, his best friend.

'I won't give up, Fred.'