He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling.
His heart thundered painfully in his chest, its echoes ringing loudly in his ears as he struggled and fought to draw shaky breath after shaky breath, his throat strangled, constricted as if trapped in a vice.
He sat there, on the edge of the cliff, looking over the dark expanse of water, curled up, knees pulled up to his chest, wondering what would happen were he to run. Would they follow him? Would they drag him back before the Lord? Would the Lord sentence him to eternal sleep?
He didn’t want to die, he thought as tears welled up in his eyes, and he had to bite harshly into his lip to stop himself from sobbing.
He was so happy when his father gave him Grandia. His very own Soul Weapon! He just couldn’t contain his excitement, having to try his hardest not to smile, not to bounce on his feet; his demeanor wasn’t as refined as his father’s or brother’s, but he was still learning.
He was still young. Too young.
He stared in awe at the blades in his hands and raised his head to look at his father and ask him when he could start training with them, but his father’s cold expression sent shivers down his spine.
“No one must know,” he ordered him slowly, calmly, and the threat lingering on the edge of his words made Rael’s blood run cold.
No one could find out about Grandia.
The weapon was a secret, a secret that could brand him a traitor just for it being in his possession.
“The ceremony is starting.” Though spoken gently, the words startled Rael out of his reverie.
“Ah, yes, of course!” He said, composing himself and standing up quickly, giving Seira his best smile. “Let us go.”
She looked at him for a moment before nodding. It wasn’t often when you could take a Kertia by surprise. Rael must’ve been quite lost in his thoughts. Still, whatever bothered Rael, it must’ve been a personal matter, so Seira would not mention it or ask about it.
As they walked back to the castle, Rael’s thoughts kept drifting to the secret.
He couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t rely on anyone, not even his own brother. If they found out this atrocious secret, he’d be sentenced to eternal sleep.
He needed… he needed someone to tell him it would be alright, someone to reassure him he wasn’t a renegade.
“Seira, I have…,” he hesitated, but steeled his resolve and continued, “I have a question.”
She merely tilted his head to him and waited patiently for his inquiry.
“What would you do if – if you had a secret that would make you a traitor?”
“I would willingly surrender myself to eternal sleep,” she stated simply, as if it was the most natural, most obvious answer to such a question.
Rael’s heart stopped, dread and despair crushed even the last fragments of hope.
Surrender to eternal sleep…