Sad Moon

Chapter 3: Umbrage - 2

Night had fallen over the orphanage like an impenetrable veil, wrapping every corner in a thick, suffocating darkness. Selene's footsteps echoed through the ancient, cold stone walls, which seemed to swallow the whispers of the wind rustling through the trees. With every step, the weight on her chest grew heavier, as if she carried not only the chill of the night but also the ghosts of a past she could never escape. The sky, hidden behind thick, muted clouds, denied her the comfort of the stars, and the heavy, frigid air seemed to suffocate her thoughts. It was as if the very night conspired to remind her how utterly alone she was in her inner battle, deepening the bitter taste she had carried since the confrontation in the herbalism class.

At the end of the corridor stood the director's office, its carved wooden door barely visible in the dim light, like a silent portal waiting. She paused as she reached it, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to still the storm that raged in her mind. With a soft knock, her knuckles tapped the door, the sound reverberating through the silence like distant thunder.

—Enter— the director's voice emerged with calm authority from within, as serene as it was imposing.

As Selene opened the door, she was greeted by the flickering light of an oil lamp. Shadows danced erratically on the walls, which were lined with aging scrolls and dusty books. The old director, standing tall beside his desk, seemed like a figure carved from stone—thin and pale, his skin etched with deep wrinkles.

The director's presence filled the room with an intensity Selene had always felt, but tonight, it was overwhelming. Her chest tightened under the invisible weight of his gaze, though she knew he could not see.

—Sit— he instructed calmly, yet firmly, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

Selene obeyed, though the knot in her throat made it hard to breathe. The silence between them stretched on, heavy and tense, until the director's voice finally cut through the air, as deep as the rumble of a distant storm.

—There was an altercation today— he said plainly. —In my class, and within your team. It cannot happen again, Selene—

Words swirled in Selene's mind, but none seemed strong enough to be spoken. Finally, she whispered, her voice barely audible, —Ravenna...—

Just saying her name was enough to release the anger and pain tangled in her voice, tearing her apart from the inside.

—I can't be on her team— she continued, struggling to find the strength to speak. —Not after everything she did to Havel and me—

The director leaned slightly on his cane, bending forward. Though his eyes were blind, Selene felt his gaze as though he could see straight through her, beyond flesh and bone, into the deepest parts of her soul.

—I understand your pain— he said softly, his words carrying an empathy that seemed to brush the edges of human experience. —The past leaves scars, Selene. Scars that never fully fade. But you cannot allow that pain to become a chain that keeps you bound—

Selene's hands, resting on her lap, began to tremble slightly. It was strange, she thought, how the old man always managed to reach the places within her she feared most. With each word, he unearthed memories she had long preferred to leave buried.

—It's not just the past— she replied, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she was holding back. —It's what she represents. Every time I see her, it all comes back... the hurt, the betrayal—

The director sighed deeply. Despite his blindness, it was as if he could sense the storm of emotions brewing inside Selene, as though the shadows around him whispered unseen truths.

—I'm not asking you to forgive her— he said, and his tone softened unexpectedly. —Only to find a way to work with her, even if it's only temporary. Don't let your resentment control you. If you do, you'll lose far more than what she ever took from you—

The director's words lingered in the air, settling on Selene with a weight she hadn't anticipated. She knew he was right. He was always right. But accepting his truth didn't ease the pressure in her chest or soothe the simmering pain still burning inside.

—You may go— the old man concluded, his figure almost motionless behind the desk, like an imposing shadow, his voice low but resolute. —Reflect on what I've said. Don't let this happen again—

Selene rose slowly, inclining her head in a sign of respect before turning to leave. The wooden door creaked softly as she stepped out, and the cold of the hallway enveloped her immediately. The echo of the director's words still resounded in her mind, a persistent murmur, but the knot in her chest had not loosened.

After a few steps, a familiar figure awaited her in the gloom. Havel, leaning against one of the stone walls, lifted his head when he saw her. The moment their eyes met, the façade of strength she had maintained throughout the day crumbled completely. Tears she had held back began to spill down her cheeks, silent but relentless.

—I can't... I can't stand it— she murmured, her voice breaking between sobs. —Being near her tears me apart, Havel—

Without a word, Havel wrapped her in his arms, enclosing her in the warmth and safety of his embrace. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them, bound together in a silence that spoke louder than words. As Selene's tears fell against her brother's chest, she felt the storm inside her begin to calm, even if only a little.

—I'm here— Havel whispered, his voice low but steady, the voice of someone who had always been there to protect her. —You don't have to face this alone—

Selene nodded weakly. The pain was still there, lurking, but in Havel's arms, the burden felt a little lighter. For now, at least, she wasn't entirely alone.