Chapter Nine: Fires of Confusion
The stars twinkled above as the last remnants of sunlight faded into twilight. Wicked sat on the edge of the roof, gazing out at the village below. The chaos of the day settled into a quiet hum, the sounds of children playing and adults preparing for the evening's bonfire drifting up to him. He felt the familiar tug of the night sky, the pull of magic lingering in the air.
The month they spent training with Dragon Knight and Alexis had flown by in a blur. Wicked and his friends had trained hard, learning skills they never thought possible. John, a new friend from the village, had joined them, bringing a mischievous energy that kept things lively. They'd tackled swordsmanship, forging, and even some light magic, pushing each other to grow stronger.
But things had taken a turn when John admitted he had spent the night with T, and Wicked felt a pang of jealousy twist in his stomach. Their friendships had deepened, yet so had the confusion surrounding their relationships.
As Wicked pondered these thoughts, Isabel appeared beside him, her hair cascading over her shoulders. "You know, you should really come down. Everyone is waiting for us at the bonfire," she said, her voice light but firm.
Wicked sighed, still caught in the complexities of the day. "I know. I just needed a moment."
Isabel nudged him playfully. "Come on! It'll be fun. Besides, you can't let T outshine you forever, can you?"
A hint of a smile flickered on his face. "Fine. Let's go."
They climbed down from the roof and made their way through the village, the warmth of the bonfire lighting their path. As they neared the gathering, Isabel suddenly halted, her eyes wide. "Wicked, wait!"
"What is it?" he asked, glancing back.
"I just have a feeling we should check in on T first," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation.
Wicked frowned but nodded. "Okay, but make it quick."
Isabel led the way to T's house, and as they stepped inside, the sight that met them made Wicked's heart drop. T lay sprawled on the bed, a satisfied smile on her face, while Junior lounged beside her, his arm draped casually over her shoulder.
Isabel gasped, "I didn't know you were sleeping with T as well!"
Wicked felt his stomach twist in knots. "T!" he shouted, stepping closer. "What's going on here?"
T looked up, unfazed. "Oh, hey, guys. Didn't expect you to drop in."
Wicked's frustration flared. "What do you think? You're running a harem or something?"
"What's wrong with a female harem?" T countered, sitting up. "My dad has thirty women in his harem that all love him. My mom was the only one that decided not to stay in the harem. So what's wrong with a female harem? I don't see anything wrong with people loving me, and I love people!"
Junior leaned back, grinning. "Exactly! Love isn't exclusive, man. T loves us all."
"But I thought…" Wicked struggled to find the words, his heart racing. "I thought we had something special."
T's expression softened, but her eyes held a challenge. "And we do! But that doesn't mean I can't care for others too."
"Care?" Wicked repeated, feeling anger twist into confusion. "You were supposed to be with me!"
"Why do you think that?" T shot back. "I never said I was yours alone! We're all friends, and I love you, but it's not about being exclusive."
Wicked took a step back, overwhelmed. "Maybe I thought it was supposed to mean something more."
Isabel, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward. "This isn't fair, T! You should have told him!"
T shrugged, her expression unfazed. "And what would that change? I care about him and everyone else! That's all it needs to be."
Wicked felt a heaviness settle in his chest as they turned to leave. Isabel sighed, her voice firm. "Let's skip the bonfire. We've got to get up early to train with the blacksmith."
As they walked back, Wicked felt the weight of the confrontation linger in the air. They returned home, and as they entered, they were met with an unexpected sight: their parents, Duncan and Lydia, sharing a tender moment, lost in a hug and a soft kiss.
Wicked's curiosity sparked as he approached. "Mom, Dad, can I ask you something?" he said, trying to gather his thoughts. "What is love?"
Duncan looked up, his expression shifting from joy to concern. "Why do you ask, son?"
"He found out T was trying to run a male harem," Isabel interjected, her voice laced with urgency.
Wicked felt the sadness wash over him, and his voice trembled. "I thought she loved me. I thought she was just mine."
Duncan's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Wicked glanced at Isabel, feeling lost. "I thought it meant something more. I didn't think she'd be with anyone else!"
"But what about all the other women you sleep with?" Isabel asked, her tone pressing.
Wicked turned to his parents, echoing the same uncertainty. "What do you think? I thought once they let you sleep with them, they love you."
Duncan's voice grew stern. "Wicked, you need to understand that love isn't just physical connections."
Lydia stepped in, her tone calming. "What do you think this is all for? Let them live their lives and have their experiences. They need to learn for themselves."
Wicked took a breath, the weight of their words settling in. "I just thought it was supposed to mean something."
Duncan's voice softened. "You'll figure it out in time, son. Love is about connection, trust, and understanding. It takes more than just physical attraction."
Wicked nodded slowly, feeling a mix of clarity and confusion. He needed time to process this, to figure out what love truly meant for him.
As he headed to his room, he reflected on the night's events, the warmth of his family's support guiding him through the tangled emotions.