Chapter 123: Volume one: Epilogue
Hex stood behind the window of the northern tower, looking down. Hestia had taken it upon herself to settle the survivors.
After she had sent the signal to call the Knights and survivors of Grindeston, they had talked about the events of the night. Despite feeling low, Hex made sure he altered his narrative where he deemed necessary.
He told them about Wallen’s death, which pained Hestia deeply. They had known each other for a long time. He also told them about the Templar, about the Witch, and the baroness.
He left out the parts about his origin, his family, and Gorge’s soul fusion. He wanted to make sure what to do with Gorge before disclosing it. And he wasn’t ready to talk about himself. Or maybe - Hex denied it - he was afraid to be seen as a Hex, an abomination, by others.
The sun shone bright and warm. The people below didn’t seem to care who survived or what happened to the town. Their focus was on the now and after this. Where would they stay, what would they do, how would they survive? Those were the questions plaguing them, while children played in the field and the elderly huddled around bonfires, readying soup.
Hex had temporarily agreed to let the survivors remain around the castle. They had to clear up the debris and check the stability of the hills before rebuilding the town.
"Are you holding it together?"
"Yes," Hex replied without turning. The silver-haired lady hadn’t masked her presence.
They both looked at an elderly couple hugging their young son. The son had a blank look but didn’t resist the care he received.
"What will become of him?" Hex asked, subconsciously gripping the window still tighter.
Seeing him tense, Silvera chuckled, sounding like the soft bells of the Temple. "You don’t have to worry about him. I will take him and his parents with me to Pontiffe."