The Angel Fell Twice

Chapter 9. The Prophecy of the World Tree

She sat down, staring into the water, her thoughts a turbulent sea. Arthur followed her, his steps soft on the grass.
"Marina, I apologize for Isabel's sharp words..."
"It feels as though she does not want me here. No matter what I do, or how hard I try," Marina sighed, her voice tinged with despair.
Arthur sat beside her, his gaze gentle. "She does, she just struggles to express it or trust people. Her heart is burdened with the weight of the past," he began. "When Ragnar came to Stormfell, he was alone and empty. I took him under my wing, seeing a shell of a man who needed a place to belong. But our people cast him aside. He did not have Aether in his blood, and his abilities frightened them. He was a ruthless fighter, but his harshness was a mere facade, an attempt to impress me, the guild captain. The other knights treated him like a monster, driven by fear and jealousy. So he became one."
"But why... Why are the people of Stormfell so prejudiced against those not born of Aether blood?" Marina asked, clenching her fists.
"Engraved in the script of the World Tree is a prophecy. It speaks of the tree's collapse at the hands of one not of Aether blood. Many believed Ragnar to be the harbinger of this doom. Aether is our lifeblood; without it, we are vulnerable," Arthur's gaze softened as he looked at Marina. "Ragnar killed several of our people. Isabel does not want that to happen again..."
"I-I'm sorry for your losses." she mumbled softly. "Its alright, Marina. But don't ever feel ashamed or unworthy, being what you are." he smiled.
Arthur's gentle smile and tone caused a familiar pang to echo from the depths of her memory. Those earnest eyes and kind words, the way Arthur leaned in slightly, his hand lightly touching her shoulder, was hauntingly reminiscent of the ghost of her lover's comforting touch. Marina turned away, her eyes catching the glint of moonlight on the lake's surface.
"I understand," she said, her voice colder than she intended. The words felt hollow, echoing back at her as she struggled to regain her composure. "Thank you, Arthur." she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. She did not turn to face him, but she knew he had heard.
Arthur nodded, a quiet acknowledgment of her words. "Always, Marina," he replied softly, before standing up, "Good night."
"Good night." she responded. The silence was deafening, the gaping hollowness in her heart only felt wider, as she watched his silhouette greeted by that of a woman's, door closing.