"I just went there," Victore said with a shrug, his nonchalance only inflaming her emotions.
"You could've died!" Ysara's voice cracked as her fury burst forth, sending a gust of wind whipping through the cottage. The flickering candles almost went out, and the shutters rattled violently against the sudden force.
Victore gritted his teeth, looking down at his feet like a chastised child. "But I'm alive, Mother," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm not dead."
Ysara's face twisted with anguish. "Victore! I don't want you to die! You know nothing of this world—our world!" she wailed, her voice breaking on the last words.
Victore flinched, her words cutting deeper than he expected. His frown deepened, his green eyes glinting with a mixture of confusion and frustration.
"Our world? You mean my world too?" he said, his voice rising. "I grew up here, Mother! I know no other place. Why do you treat me like I'm so… so fragile?"
"Because you are my child, and I need to protect you!" Ysara snapped, her tone as much pleading as it was commanding.
"I'm not a fragile child anymore, why can't you see that?" Victore's voice cracked with desperation, his fists clenched at his sides.
Ysara stared at him, her breaths uneven. "How did you get there?" she asked at last, her voice softer but laden with disbelief.
"There where? I just… wanted to go, so I did!" Victore said, his tone defiant yet uncertain.
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
What was he saying?
Did he mean he had simply willed himself there?
No, that couldn't be. He was human—a human child! Her mind reeled at the absurdity of his words.
"You walked into the south side?" she asked, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper. "You voluntarily approached death?"
"I'm sorry," Victore mumbled, his voice quieter now, guilt creeping in.
"If you're sorry," Ysara snapped, "stop putting your life at risk for rebellious reasons!"
"I'm not rebellious," Victore shot back, though his voice trembled slightly. "I just… I'm sorry, all right?" His shoulders slumped as he turned away, unable to hold her gaze any longer.
He walked toward the door, his movements slow and heavy, as though the weight of the argument had sunk into his very bones. His shoulders were hunched, his frustration mingling with guilt.
"I can't take this anymore," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible as he stepped outside.
He didn't slam the door; instead, he closed it gently, his anger giving way to the deep ache of his mother's constant fear.
Inside, Ysara pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her heart shattering under the weight of her own helplessness. She sank into a chair, her mind racing.
He's human… just human… she reminded herself, but the unease in her heart whispered otherwise.
Victore had returned from a place that should have killed him. How? And what would she do if the truth she so desperately buried came to light?
Meanwhile, outside, Victore leaned against the cottage wall, staring up at the darkening sky. He knew his mother's fear came from love, but he couldn't shake the bitterness welling in his chest.
She thinks everything can kill me… he thought grimly.
But maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.
As he continued to stay there the sound of approaching footsteps broke his thoughts. He sighed, expecting yet another lecture from an adult or one of his mother's friends.
But when he glanced up, he saw Lysander—the wiry boy with a mop of unruly blond hair and an ever-present grin.
Lysander wasn't just a fellow villager; he was one of the few people who had the patience to deal with Victore's moods.
"Hey, wanderer," Lysander called out as he drew closer, his tone light and teasing. "You're the talk of the village, you know. I mean, not many people come strolling out of Life Hill like they've just been berry-picking."
Victore rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "I didn't ask to be the talk of the village."
Lysander leaned casually against the wall beside him, his grin widening. "Oh, I know. You're way too broody for that."
Victore shot him a glare, but Lysander's unaffected demeanor softened the edge of his irritation.
"They're all impressed, you know," Lysander continued, glancing at Victore from the corner of his eye. "I mean, I wouldn't go near that place even if someone promised me a barrel of honey cakes."
"Maybe you're just smarter than I am," Victore muttered.
"Or maybe you're braver," Lysander said with a shrug. "But seriously, what were you doing out there?"
Victore hesitated, unsure how to explain the pull he felt—the unexplainable urge to go to Life Hill despite knowing it was forbidden. "I just… I wanted to see it. That's all."
Lysander nodded thoughtfully, as if this simple answer made perfect sense. "Fair enough. I'd be curious too, if I thought I could make it out alive. Which, you know, I wouldn't." He chuckled, then nudged Victore lightly with his elbow. "Guess you're not as boring as everyone says."
Victore sighed, he just wanted to be allowed to be like everyone else not seen as special, "Why are you here again?"
"You're interesting," Lysander admitted.
Victore smirked faintly despite himself. "I thought I was the 'broody loner' no one wanted to be around."
"Well, yeah, you are," Lysander replied with mock seriousness. "But you're our broody loner, so we're stuck with you."
Victore shook his head, a reluctant smile creeping onto his face. "You're insufferable."
"And you're impossible," Lysander shot back, his grin widening. "See? We're a perfect match."
For a moment, Victore let the tension in his chest ease. Lysander's persistence was infuriating at times, but it was also comforting in a way he didn't like to admit.
"Thanks," Victore said quietly, after a long pause.
Lysander tilted his head, feigning confusion. "For what? For being my charming, brilliant self?"
Victore laughed softly, a rare sound that even surprised himself. "For not leaving me alone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lysander grinned, his expression softening. "Well, someone has to keep you from turning into a grumpy old man before you're fifteen."
Victore rolled his eyes again, but this time, the smile lingered.
He didn't know how to deal with his mothers restrictions but he knew his life had to change for the better.
Little did he know.