The fall

Chapter 29

Blake

I sat next to Gabriella in the training grounds, the sounds of our sparring from these past few days now echoing in the distance. It was supposed to just be another session, another way to prepare her for her future mission in Valort—but I can't focus. I'm not okay, not okay at all.

The tension in my chest had become unbearable, and it wasn't just the war or institution I was managing. It was everything else—the fact that Penelope was still gone, the guilt, the rage, and the weight of being trapped in a life I didn't choose.

I kept pushing myself, pushing her, because it was the only thing I knew how to do. Punch after punch. Release after release, trying to find a way out. But absolutely nothing was working. My body was tired, my mind even more so.

And Lucian? He had been asking the same thing over and over again; "Did you find who killed father?" He's twelve, so of course he can't know the truth. He doesn't know that the one he's always seen as an older sister, one of the people he trusted, Penelope, killed our father.
I can't tell him that, thanks for yet another secret god.
I can't bear to watch the boy I fucking raised fall apart when he learns the truth. So I kept telling him, "I'll find out," while the truth gnawed at my insides, poisoning with every lie.

The responsibilities I had to shoulder were killing me. The sylvanian institution, future leadership, the war with Valort—it was all too much. But I couldn't stop. I had to keep going, had to be the soldier my father trained me to be. Even though I didn't want anymore, not without Penelope.

Gabriella soon broke the silence between us at our break, her voice immediately cutting through the fog of my thoughts. "One question, what did your dad even do to you?" I glare at her sideways, this again? "What? I think it's a genuine question since you're so grumpy all the time."

I froze. The question hit me harder than I expected. I'd been so wrapped up in everything, in the constant fight just to keep my head above water, I hadn't even realized how much I was shutting her out too.
My heart clenched, why is so hard answering such a simple answer? Probably cause I never opened up, not to her—not to Penelope—not anyone.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to let anyone in. But she was waiting for an answer, her eyes steady on mine. She definitely wouldn't let it go, per usual. So, reluctantly, I spoke—I looked down, fidgeting with my hands. My fingers felt like they were trembling. I absolutely hated feeling vulnerable. But I fucking owed her this much.

"Well, he..." I hesitated, the words coming out slower than I wanted them too. "He didn't treat me like a son. Not even close to one either." My throat tightened. "I was always just the next commander. The heir. Everything he did to me since I was five was turning into the person I am today. Exactly how he treated Penelope—he never saw her as a person, only a weapon and he saw the same thing in me—yet I was punished whenever I wanted a break."

The bitterness in my chest threatened to choke me, but I pushed on. "He gave me absolutely no real love, no care—just endless training. Day after day, I had to be perfect. He didn't actually see me, Gabs. He saw a soldier. A tool to fulfill some dream that wasn't even mine."

I could feel the heat rising in my face, the frustration spilling out faster than I could contain it. "If I failed—just one mistake—it was like the end of the world. He'd either make me repeat it over and over again until I couldn't stand." I clench my cargos as I sigh, trying to calm myself. "Or he'd force me to stand infront of him as he threw empty wine bottles at me. He'd throw them until they hit me—which they always did."

I immediately press my hands against many forehead as I breathe in a shaky breath—I'm not okay, I'm not fucking okay. Was it always this easy to talk to someone? "It was just... pressure. Every fucking day, Gabs, until I was nothing but a killing machine."

Breathe, just breathe. I need to calm myself, I can't break out. Not right now.
"I thought maybe it would get better when I got older, when I became the commander he wanted me to be. But no. It was never fucking about me. It was about what I could do for his starvation for power. There was absolutely never been a single moment where I wasn't being absolutely prepared for something, for anything."

The air felt thicker so I let the last words spill out. "And even in death, he still haunts me. Takes everything, from me. Penelope is gone, gone because of him—Gone because I was a coward to tell her the truth. All I wanted was her, all I ever asked for; was her. And I am going insane not knowing where she is."

There was a long silence between us, the weight of my confession sinking in. I wasn't sure if Gabriella would understand, since she was raised in a loving, caring family who didn't treat her as a killing machine—but even so, she just sat there, listening, not pushing me further nor judging me like she does.

The silence pressed in, for a moment I thought that this was a terrible idea until she finally spoke again. "You know, you look a lot better after confessing that. But gosh, commander—you shouldn't be carrying all of that alone."

I shook my head, the laugh that escaped me sounding more like a breath than anything. "I don't think anyone could ever understand what it's like to be trapped in a cage of your own making."

"I think you're wrong about that," She answers in a steady tone, "Everyone has their own cage. You just have to let people in to help break it down."

I don't know what to say to that. I only stood up slowly, stretching my sore muscles from our training earlier. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done, It's done. He's dead, and I'm still here, stuck with his mess, trying to do better than he ever did."

Gabriella didn't respond right away. She just took a long sip of her water bottle and gave me a thoughtful look. I wasn't sure if she was trying to figure me out or just letting me be. Either way, I appreciated the silence for once. And as I was walking away, the weight on my shoulders didn't feel as suffocating. Not entirely. Maybe it was because I finally said something out loud, not carrying the burden entirely alone of being abused my whole life.

Gabriella and I might have just actually started an alliance of friendship.