Chapter 50:Mother
Rob spots Mark, walks over in silence, and lowers himself into the chair opposite him. Neither of them speaks a word; they simply stare at each other in a heavy, deliberate silence.
After a long pause, Mark lets out a sigh. “You know your agreement only has a symbolic meaning as to whether William goes or not.”
Rob gives a firm, solemn nod. “I understand.”
Hearing Rob's response, Mark pulls out the official employment contract and signs his name across the bottom. William leans over the table slightly, catching a glimpse of the signature—only to realize Mark is writing a completely different name.
‘Is that a pseudonym? Or is that his actual name, and 'Mark' was the lie all along? William wonders.’
Looking down at the document spread out before him, Rob steadies his shaking hands before picking up the quill. He writes his name on the line, sets the quill down on the table, and leans back in his chair. In an instant, he seems to age years under the weight of the gesture.
Mark glances at Rob. “What about your wife?”
Rob keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “She doesn't want to see you again. She left before you got here.”
Mark gives a quiet nod. Leaving a copy of the agreement on the table, he turns and silently steps out of the house.
William quietly watches Rob sitting at the table before speaking in a hesitant, guilt-ridden voice. “Uncle... are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't know—”
“You don't have anything to apologize for, William,” Rob interrupts before he can go any further. “You were born with the gift to learn magic. It's not your fault. To be honest... I'm the one who should be apologizing to you.”
Rob finally lifts his head, looking straight into William's eyes.
“For what?” William asks, taken aback.
“For not believing you. For that day six years ago when you told me about what happened in the forest. I dismissed it as a child's fanciful dream, but... it was the truth all along.”
A vivid memory from six years ago rushes back to William—the merciless drought, the encounter with the strange old man, the sparks of real magic, and finally, the parting words that still ring in his ears:
'When the world finally hears your name... I will come back to hear it myself.'
William's thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Gretchen enters and heads straight for the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the floor. William tries to follow after her, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stops him. Turning around, he meets Rob's weary gaze.
“She needs a bit more time to accept it.”
William hesitates for a moment before nodding.
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The rest of the day passes in silence. A heavy gloom settles over the house, and everyone feels its weight. Even when Craig returns home with a small silver trinket he found while diving, it fails to lift anyone's spirits. After making several unsuccessful attempts to lighten the mood, Rob lets out a weary sigh before finally giving up.
The next morning at breakfast, the atmosphere remains just as heavy. The only sound is the faint scrape of spoons against plates as everyone eats in silence, unwilling to start a conversation. William keeps his head down, his eyes fixed on his meal.
“William.”
Gretchen's voice cuts through the silence. He looks up to find his aunt watching him with an unreadable expression.
“This afternoon, you're coming with me to the market.”
William nods. Are we finally going to talk about it? I hope so. He lowers his gaze and resumes eating.
In the afternoon, William walks a few paces behind Gretchen through the busy market, searching for a way to break the silence. Gretchen keeps her eyes fixed straight ahead, unwilling to bring up anything.
They stop at a stall where a thin vendor is rolling dice with a couple of neighboring merchants. Recognizing Gretchen, the man pockets the dice and steps up to his cart.
“What can I get for you today?”
After a quick round of haggling over vegetables, Gretchen hands over the coins and takes her parcel.
She sets off again without a word, heading straight toward a small bakery for bread. Vendor after vendor, errand after errand, she moves briskly through town, leaving William to carry the growing pile of packages, completely baffled by what they are actually doing out here.
After shopping for nearly the entire afternoon, Gretchen turns toward the town gates and heads for the riverbank, walking against the stream of townsfolk heading home after spending a hot day by the water.
Unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, William asks, “Where are we going?”
Gretchen keeps walking, ignoring the question as though it were meant for someone else.
They walk in silence until they reach the edge of the river, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. William finally sets down the pile of heavy bags he'd been carrying all afternoon, clenching and unclenching his cramped hands to get the blood flowing again.
Standing by the water's edge, staring out at the glimmering river, Gretchen remains silent for another moment.
Without taking her eyes off the river, Gretchen finally speaks.
“You know, all this time I've been asking myself how I could have stopped this,” she says quietly. “Maybe I shouldn't have let you go into the forest that day. Or given you permission to visit Arindale with John... or allowed you to work in Arindale away from me.”
William turns to see a somber, reflective look on Gretchen's face before she continues.
“But over time, I realized that 'what-ifs' are never really possible. Or maybe even if I had done all that, we still would have ended up in this exact position.”
Gretchen turns to look directly at William for the first time all day, a warm, motherly expression softening her features.
“So all I can do now is hope that everything turns out for the best—for you, and for our family.”
Gretchen stops, her voice trailing off as tears well up in her eyes.
“After all... I'm your mother too, right?”
William steps forward and pulls Gretchen into a deep hug, and she holds him just as tightly. Neither of them can find the words to express how much they care for each other, but they don't need to. After all, no mother and child need words to prove their love. It simply exists—as something far more powerful than any magic.
When they finally let go, she smiles through her tears.
“Let's go home. We've spent way too much time shopping. If we don't hurry, your uncle is going to have to sleep on an empty stomach tonight.”
William smiles and nods, turning back to pick up the pile of bags.