A soft rap again, this time gentler, as if the door would collapse from anxiety.
"Terra… son," a gruff voice called out with more worry than force. "I know you're in there. You need to go outside, assist the villagers. Perhaps attempt that magic stunt you've been practicing."
There was silence. There always was.
Seventeen-year-old Terra Sol sat on the ground next to his bed, gazing at the weak light filtering through the shutters. He had once been a prodigal student at the kingdom's finest knight academy. People had said his name with pride and with envy.
Now, he was empty. The armor rested on the back of his chair. The sword rested in the corner. They haunted him like specters memories of a man he no longer was.
He slowly got up, each step dragging more than the last, and reclined once more, folding into silence as if slumber could consume him.
Outside, his father's voice shook with urgency.
"Son… I've got a thought. Why not you use magic instead of sword fighting? You like it right? I know. Who cares what other people think? You're my boy. You'd never ste-"
The sentence ended in the darkness.
The door thudded open. Terra rose, eyes aflame, shaking breath.
"DAD, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SO IRRITATING?!" His voice broke. "I told you I don't want to discuss it! Why do you just knock to discuss my life?!"
He edged closer, shaking hands. "What do you know about my life? You broke up with Mom and made things worse!" His anger dissolved into pain. "I. I hate you!"
His father's eyes dropped. The anger didn't bounce back-it sank into him, heavy and silent. Guilt shadowed his face.
Terra swallowed hard. "You… just get lost." His voice was low, disappointed a tone sharper than shouting.
His father nodded, or maybe just lowered his head. Pausing in the doorway, he mumbled, "If you're hungry, there's food in the icebox."
Then he was gone, off to drown the silence in drink, like always.
Terra glared at the shut door. The house was too still. Though he'd instructed his father to get out, a tiny paining portion of him wished he'd stayed.
He curled back, shutting his eyes, hoping sleep would wash all away. But recollections flashed like shattered glass behind closed lids.
Since sleep denied him, he sought someone to confide in. There was no one-except one.
A teddy bear on the shelf, a button eye gone.
"Where the hell did that goddamn thing go…" Terra grumbled, sending books and clothes crashing to the ground. Defeated, he leaned back, holding the bear.
"Hey, Garcia," he whispered. "You look bummed. What went wrong? Magic island with unicorns? Sounded cool."
Silence spoke. He relaxed. "I was hoping to discuss my dad. A wonderful adventurer, a powerful swordsman… and an exceptional husband. I wished to be like him."
His throat constricted.
"But he began to drink. The gold disappeared, he ceased to take quests, his party dissolved. Mom left as well." His voice shook. "He became violent. He beat her occasionally. Mom… she was like a child.
The bear glared with one button eye. Terra's chest hurt.
"God, I miss her," he breathed. "The last thing she ever said. when her father pulled her away." His voice cracked. "'Terra. we'll play again, right?'"
He wiped a thumb over the missing button.
"She gave me you," he whispered. "And see what happened to me."
He let out a long, deep sigh. "What do you think, Garcia?"
The bear didn't respond. Naturally.
"Right. You're not real. Nothing's real."
The silence wasn't peace. It filled the room, refusing to leave.
Meanwhile, far from the quiet house, his father nursed a bitter drink in the dim tavern. The door creaked open, sour ale and laughter rolling over him. He hated this place, the smell, the noise, the sticky floor. Mostly, he hated the man he'd become inside it.
Spilling coins on the bar, the barkeep pushed a mug in front of him. The initial sip seared his throat. The second froze it. The third muffled the pain just enough to catch air.
"I hate you."
The voice lingered, younger than Terra's seventeen years such as a hurt child crying. Perhaps that cut the deepest. Because Terra was still a boy. His boy.
"I hate you…" he breathed.
He remembered the man he once was sword in hand, sun on his back, laughter on his lips. A man who conducted quests, saved lives, came home to a waiting wife by the fire, and a boy wanting to be grown just like him.
Where did that man go?
Perhaps he died the day his wife's laughter stopped. Perhaps he drowned in the bottom of a bottle. Perhaps he walked out when fists took the place of words.
Rubbing his eyes, he breathed quietly, "I was supposed to protect them.
He recalled little Terra playing with a wooden sword, crying out he was a knight just like his father. He recalled his wife, simple-minded, sweet, always smiling. And the day everything fell apart- the screaming, crying, her regarding him as a stranger.
She was gone now. And Terra didn't even glance at him.
The streets were darker than they should have been. Torches flared in the cold wind as he stumbled home. The night was redolent with rain, smoke, and something heavier he couldn't place. The drink muffled the pain but hadn't wiped away his son's words: I hate you.
A clique of hard men emerged from shadows, laughter like knives.
"Well, well, the inebriated knight wants to have some fun," one jeered, holding up a crooked sword.
Fists came before forethought, boots lashed, bodies fell. Adrenaline pumped higher than liquor.
At last, the biggest fell under him. Grunting for breath, blood and sweat combined, he collapsed to the floor on the man's chest, his eyes weeping.
"I. I destroyed it all." he whispered. "I was supposed to guard them. my wife. my son. I vowed I'd never fail.
He prattled on, memory spilling in a rush. He cursed, pleaded, laughed, wept all simultaneously.
The night stretched out forever. Attempting to exit, the world whirled. A searing pain flashed in his back, a blade had hit its target.
Blindly stumbling ahead, blood trickled down his spine. Dark crept at the periphery of his sight. Instinct blazed.
A piece of paper ripped from his pocket, pushed into the fire of a torch. It spat and flared, sparks scattered into the air.
Beyond distance, the locket on Terra's neck flared with intense light, a heartbeat of magic spanning father and son.
Life ebbed. Pain and terror combined as the world fell away. Yet he knew… he must not let go.
Somewhere, he sensed it: Terra would come.