Olie

Chapter Five: Echoes of Pain

OLIE

The morning sun filtered hesitantly through the window of my small room, casting soft rays across the wooden floor. I groaned as I rolled over, the rough straw of my bed digging uncomfortably into my back. I hadn't slept well, the memories of last night's humiliation tumbling through my mind like a storm. Those boys, those knights—how could they hurt someone just trying to exist?

With a heavy sigh, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my eyes until the blur of the morning began to clear. I resolved to shake off the remnants of shame and anger. Today was a new day, and I had duties to attend to. Shuffling through the meager morning light, I got dressed quickly, hoping the earlier sense of defeat wouldn't follow me into the stables.

When I arrived at the stables, the familiar scent of hay and horseflesh enveloped me like a warm blanket, and I took a deep breath, the noise and smell grounding me. My heart ached at the thought of Alaric, picturing him training with the others, sword in hand and laughter escaping his lips.

Pushing through the stable doors, I found Brannon eagerly whinnying, the chestnut stallion happy to see me. I fed him his morning oats and rubbed his nose, my fingers brushing over the coarse hair as I tried to gather the scattered pieces of myself from the night before. I had gotten through worse, and I would push through today.

After I finished grooming and preparing Alaric's horse, I made my way toward the training grounds, a path I followed every Wednesday morning. I typically felt buoyed under the sun, my playful banter ready to tackle whatever came my way, but this time felt different.

When I reached the training grounds, I noticed Alaric sparring with several other knights, the sound of swords clashing ringing in the air. But instead of the warm rush of excitement that usually greeted me, I felt cold and distant, the earlier embarrassment washing over me like ice.

"Hey, Olie!" Alaric called, a bright smile spreading across his face as he saw me approaching. But as he noticed me closer, his expression shifted. "Everything alright? You're a bit quieter than usual. Where's that spark I love so much?"

I forced a grin, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just had a long night. Yeh know how it goes—stables are never boring," I replied, trying for my usual sass but failing to inject any real enthusiasm. Just as Alaric was about to respond, I turned away to hide my face, but not before he caught sight of the bruises decorating the left side of my face.

"Wait a moment," he said, his voice tinged with concern as he came closer. "What happened to you? Your face—"

"It's nothing." I tried to wave it off, shifting my weight awkwardly. "Just a little tumble, that's all."

"A tumble?" He narrowed his eyes, reading the hesitation in my words. "You're lying, Olie. Those bruises don't come from a tumble. Tell me what happened."

After a moment of quiet internal struggle, I sighed, realizing I couldn't hide it any longer. "It was a group of knights last night. They— they just thought it was funny to mess with meh. Played the usual games. I fought back, it didn't work out," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady as I kept my gaze fixed on the training ground.

Alaric's expression darkened, a storm rolling into his normally cheerful demeanor. "Those knights... they attacked you? Why don't you tell me who they were?"

"I just... didn't want to make a big deal out of it." I shrugged, the weight of what had happened squeezing my heart. "Just go back to training, Alaric. I can handle it."

"No, no, no," he said, his voice firm, but filled with a lingering care. "You shouldn't have to handle this alone." He glanced at the other knights still training before raising his voice to command attention. "Everyone stop!"