Throvald Fors
"Erik?"
The name left my mouth before I even realized it. My chest tightened as I stared at the face revealed beneath the breaking helm. No. It could not be. It had to be a dream, a cruel trick of my mind. Yet the more I looked, the more the world spun around me.
The armor clattered to the earth, melting away into nothing. And there he was... he was not older, not changed much, but with overgrown hair and a beard. He wore the same clothes he had on the last day I saw him. The same man. He was the son I buried in my heart thirteen years ago.
He tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out. He fell back, struggling again and again like a wounded child.
"Ma? Pa?" His voice trembled with weakness, but it was his voice.
"Erik!" Elara's cry tore through the air. She broke from my side, letting go of all her doubts and fears, rushing forward with everything in her, and I too moved without thought. But then—
A hand rose in front of us, halting our steps.
"Don't move!" Valka's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. She stepped in front of us. Her gaze was locked on Erik, her body tense. "Come to your senses. There are beasts and demons who can shapeshift. Do not fall for this."
Her words struck like a blade. My body faltered, torn between hope and reason.
"But… but he recognizes us! He called us 'Ma' and 'Pa'! It has to be—" I tried to hold onto hope, desperate for the possibility, but Valka cut me off.
"Moon magic can reach into memories. It can pull names, faces, and voices. I've seen this trick before." Her voice was firm, carrying a coldness I had never seen before.
On the ground, Erik's voice trembled again. "Sis? What's happening?"
Valka didn't flinch. "Shut up," she spat.
"Valka! Move!" Elara screamed, her voice breaking with fury and desperation.
"Did you not hear me?" Valka roared back. "This could be a lie! Do not let your emotions blind you!"
"I can feel his mana signature!" Elara's voice rose higher, a mother's unshakable conviction burning through. She stepped forward, fists clenched, tears at the edges of her eyes. "It's him! I am his mother! I know!"
Valka's jaw tightened. Her voice was louder than before. "Are you stupid? Do you want to risk everything on a trick?!"
Their voices clashed like swords, mother and daughter divided by grief and reason.
My eyes drifted back to the figure on the ground. Erik. My son. He lay broken, struggling to breathe, his eyes flickering between us with confusion and pain. I couldn't understand. My heart screamed it was him. My head… refused to believe.
Then Tavian stepped forward, voice steady though his clothes were torn and bloodied. "Lady Fors. Lady Valka. Please… calm yourselves." His eyes swept between the two of them. "If this is truly him, the Church can confirm everything—"
He stopped, the words dying as Valka's gaze shifted past him.
"I don't think we'll need to go to the Church."
Her eyes narrowed, fixed on a single point in the distance. Slowly, she raised her hand, and the ground sank low as if crushed by an invisible weight.
"Did you think you could escape?" Valka said.
"W-wait. Stop!" A voice rose from the sinking ground. Familiar. Too familiar.
Valka lowered her hand, but her eyes remained sharp. "Don't try to run."
From the hollow, a shadow began to swell upward, rising like a black mound. It twisted and stretched until two faint red marks appeared on it, gleaming like eyes.
"That looks like the armor!" Elara's voice shook with recognition.
Ashar stepped forward, summoning a flaming sword in his hand. Beside him, Aifa conjured a bow of mana, the string taut and ready. Tavian began to chant under his breath, mana gathering around him.
"Calm down," the figure said. Its voice was low, deliberate. "I don't intend to fight any longer."
Valka strode forward, silver still shimmering faintly around her. "That's not up to you to decide," she said, flexing her fingers, her gaze shifting to the broken figure of Erik on the ground. "Especially not after playing such a sick joke."
"Wait. I think you are mistaken about something."
Her steps faltered. "What?"
"Are you saying… that's really our son?" Elara's voice cracked, trembling as if she feared the answer.
"Before I say anything," the shadow replied calmly, "I want this Lady—your daughter, I presume—to vow that I will be let go if I answer your questions."
"Forget about that!" Valka snapped.
A vow... a promise made from soul to soul... one that if broken, will result in death. I had never made a vow before, so I couldn't be sure.
Part of me agreed with Valka. We could wait, take him to the Church and let Father Kaelen decide. But if he truly wasn't our son, bringing him back to the barony could endanger everyone.
"Elara…" I muttered, torn apart inside.
She looked at me then, her eyes wet but steady, filled with a mother's conviction. She was thinking the same as me.
Valka's eyes turned to me, cold and demanding. And in that moment, I knew. Thirteen years of waiting, of grief and unanswered prayers, I could not wait any longer. I nodded.
Valka groaned and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then I'll set the terms."
Valka went on to tell the conditions:
1. No one is allowed to lie.
2. He must answer all questions she asks and he can't leave until she is done asking.
3. He shall promise to never harm anyone from the barony.
4. We will let him go after we are done knowing.
The shadow stilled, then replied simply, "Agreeable."
Valka raised her hand. "Then the vow is made, under Aethelhum's everlasting gaze."
Green light poured down from above, bathing them both in radiance, symbolizing that the vow was sealed.
"Now," Valka said, turning her head slightly toward Erik, "we begin with the most important question. Is that my brother?"
Silence followed. Then, the shadow answered:
"I don't know."
The words struck like a hammer. My knees gave out for a moment. The breath left my chest. Not our son…
"I have never met your brother," it continued. "But since I was joined with him, I can say this much, he is a hundred percent human."
My head snapped toward it. "What?"
"I said," the shadow repeated firmly, "he is human."
For a heartbeat, my chest stopped. Then warmth surged through me like fire. My lips curved upward, trembling as they fought against the tears threatening to fall. I turned toward Elara. She had her hands over her mouth, her body shaking, tears spilling freely down her face.
I looked at Valka, who stood stiff, but finally muttered without turning her head, "Go."
That was all I needed. My legs carried me before I even knew. I dropped to my knees beside him. "Erik. Erik, can you hear me? It's me. It's your father."
Elara knelt beside me in an instant, lifting his head gently into her lap. Her voice was breaking as she sobbed. "Erik… Erik, please respond. Please…"
His eyes fluttered open, half-lidded but alive. "Ma… Pa… I never thought… I would…"
The sound of his voice tore through the guilt I had built over thirteen years. He was breathing. He was here. He was alive.
Elara hugged him close, clutching him like she would never let go, tears running freely. "He's back, Throvald. He's back to us."
My own vision blurred. My throat tightened until I could barely speak, but I forced the words out.
"Our son… Elara. Our son has been given back to us. Aethelhum has returned him."