Symphony of Lilacs

17. Battle in Eden

Blistered light from the gale outside enters the fencing court; I slash my blade in the air. Edmund stands near the tables in his fencing suit.

"You always did love fencing more than anything." Father walks into the court, his heels clicking on the floor.

Edmund bows his head and Father nods.

"Which is also why Grandmother Penelope thought I'd be suitable for the military." I balance my blade to my side.

A solemn expression crosses on Father's face, making his way to the equipment table. He picks up a shimmering blade like an archer stretching their bow to pierce a target, a target like a small blond haired boy... Some memory wafts into my head, one of flames and coals that shakes me to the core.

"Have control over yourself!"

"Those were the days," he says, his unexpected smile contrasts the howling image in my mind. "Would you like to duel?"
Father looks up at me, smile still gleaming like the blade he's holding.

Two thoughts juxtapose in my mind, two desires. One wanting to avoid and yet... I nod and take my mask placed on the windowsill, positioning my feet accordingly.

Father does the same and turns to our butler. "Well then, Edmund, will you please be our judge for the day? Thank you."

Edmund goes to stand in the middle, while both father and son swish their blade with a satisfying flick. We step forward, shaking hands. His seem like the gentle frost covering a window glass.

Spiralling the blade in my grasp, we start circling each other, neither one instigating a move.
Father's blade is positioned in between his chest and the centre stage. A narrow spot to attack.

"Playing safe, aren't we?" He grins.

Without answering, my feet spring forward and our blades clash together in a series of fake attacks.

Edmund keeps whipping his head in between us; Father keeps parrying my blows, but doesn't attack; I keep changing my foot positions.

Father raises a brow at the sprightliness.

Why aren't you doing anything else?

But as soon as I launch another attack, Father slips to the side. His blade slides to my shoulder, just as I duck, palm and lower limbs supporting my weight. Grip still firm, my blade aims.
Our blades clash— sweat trickles down— as they both hit their respective targets. One point edging at my torso, the other at Father's heart.

"Point on both sides," announces Edmund.

"You still can see through my theatrics," I say, both of us throwing our blades aside, and helping each other regain their balance.

"I did raise you, after all." Father pulls off his mask, his old smile now long gone.

Get your head out of the past. He's not attacking you.

I stand from my slouched position, breathing still ragged, and find my gaze travelling where Father's is. We stare at the the family crest, a blazing red phoenix in between daffodils.
I pull my mask off. But then Father turns his gaze to his own and his siblings' portraits.

It's almost uncanny how much Father and Henry look like each other in Father's old portrait... Almost like twins of different generations...

It's family tradition for all Knightley children to get their portrait here, once they turn twenty. Daughters-in-law also get theirs once they are married.

Aunt Harriet and the late Uncle Wulfric's glance back at us sadly.
Father runs a hand through the silver streaks in his red hair.

Everyone always said Uncle Wulfric, Father's elder brother, passed away young... No more explanations.

Glancing at Edmund, I nod at him and he understands, scurrying away into the corridor outside the court. "What's the matter, Father?" My feet paddle towards my blade lying limply on the floor.

Father picks his own blade up, but uses his as a fragile support, hands lacing themselves against the handle like a cobweb.
"Will you promise me something, Matthew?"

"What promise?" I ask, a thousand possibilities unfurling in my mind.

"Can you assure me that... that you'll take care of your siblings after me?" Father pulls a drenched silver strand away from his forehead.

The blade in my hands then stands at my side in a simple swish. I blink, "Is your health—"

He shakes his head, a sad smile.
"You know my age, just as I know you will fair well in this world.
But..."

Father always has been careful regarding Belle. But...

My eyes widen, as my index finger hooks itself in my collarz letting in some futile air. "But Henry and Isabelle..."

Father nods, shutting his eyes. He grips his blade even more firmly.
"He has a... fragile heart, Matthew. And Isabelle is still so young..."

"But he's taking his medications, I know."

Do I?

I try walking towards Father, but an invisible wall makes me stay behind. "And so is your health. You needn't worry about Belle."

"I said it before: I am old and your sister..." A heavy sigh follows suit.
"You know about Henry's condition: He seems more tired than usual. I just don't know..."
Father's shoulders slump, as his grip on the handle loosens.

The horse riding; the engagement; the travelling...

My knuckles whiten against the blade's hilt. How could I have been so stupid for my brother...

"Sometimes, I think my own deeds..." Father shakes his head. "Never mind that." Father's words result in a slight jerk of my head. His tone shifts, the sound of blades mixing within his voice.
"You're the eldest and my heir, Matthew. It's your duty to take care of them."

I glance back at Mother's portrait, and then at the empty spaces next to mine. Henry and Isabelle's.

A knock echoes. "May I come in, Masters?"

Edmund stands in the doorway. Father flicks his head, beckoning him in. He then looks at me with same green eyes as Henry's.

"Of course, I will."

"The sins of the fathers shall follow your heirs to the grave..."

Hey everyone! I hope you're doing well!
As for me, I've gotten way too attached to Vampire Academy characters and can't think of life without them XD

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Chef_Adler. Check out her profile if you want to see some awesome af historical fiction ;D

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Have a great day!
Love,
MS Zame