Chapter 84
Alric
"Father," my son says again, his voice grating, useless.
"Out." The word rips from me, sharp, loud, echoing against the stone walls. I don't even look at him. I don't want to.
The door shuts behind him, and I'm alone again. Alone with this room, these walls that press closer every day. Alone with the silence that won't stop ringing in my ears.
I pace the length of the chamber, boots dragging against stone. My breath echoes back at me, ragged, uneven.
They don't see it. They don't see the vision. Hardship isn't failure—it's a crucible. A test. White Stone will survive this, and when it does, it will be stronger than ever. I will be stronger than ever.
I imagine their faces—those sneering elders, whispering in shadows, thinking me unfit, thinking me weak. They sit in their caves, their bellies empty, and dare call me unworthy? They know nothing of weight. Nothing of sacrifice.
But I do.
