After walking together in silence, the two eventually arrived at a quiet, open field. The grass swayed gently with the wind, rustling softly like whispers between the blades. The late afternoon light cast long shadows, painting the world in hues of gold and green.
At the heart of the field lay a bare patch of earth- simple and unassuming, where no grass dared to grow. In its center stood a large, rough-hewn stone, not crafted by hands of stonecutters, but carefully placed with quiet reverence. Around it, fresh wildflowers had been arranged with care some still vibrant, their stems barely wilted.
Seth stood before the grave in silence, his eyes fixed on the stone, his expression unreadable but heavy with memory.
Casper's eyes widened the moment he saw it. Recognition struck like lightning- he didn't need to read a name to know who rested there.
Before he could speak, his hand gently resting on Seth's shoulder, Seth's voice broke the silence.
"She died because of me," he said, his voice quiet but cutting. "Not because of Boyle, not because of bad luck, because of me."
Casper stood still, silent.
"If I'd been even a little stronger… she wouldn't have needed to throw herself in front of that attack. She'd still be here." Seth's voice trembled, the grief he so often buried now pushing through. "She gave her life to protect mine. And all I could do was watch."
He stared down at the flowers, the stone, the bare earth- everything that remained of her.
Casper's free hand clenched into a fist, knuckles whitening. "No… it's my fault. If only I was-"
"Cut the bullshit," Seth snapped, his voice low but firm. "You did everything you could. Hell, no one would've blamed you if you'd run when we fought that owlbear… I know I wouldn't have."
He turned to face Casper fully now, his eyes hard- not with anger, but with the weight of self-condemnation.
"At least you fought. At least you used what strength you had. You gave yourself a fighting chance."
He looked back down at the grave, his voice softening, bitter. "Me? I lied to myself. I convinced myself that surviving the trial meant I could finally live a life without conflict. That the worst was behind me."
A hollow laugh escaped him- short, sharp, and joyless.
"That line of thinking was poison. And in the end, it wasn't me who paid for it. It was her."
His words hung in the air, raw and heavy, carried by the quiet wind across the open field.
"You said you would've spoken for me?" Seth continued, his gaze still fixed on the grave. "Don't make me laugh."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it wasn't joy. It was a mask, stretched tight over something far uglier- bitterness, hurt, resignation.
"I'm just a half-blood bastard," he said, the words quiet but sharp, like a blade dulled from overuse. "Thrown away the day I was born. Even if I hadn't killed them… even if, by some miracle, I'd made it out of that trial untouched, I'd probably still be right where I am now."
He exhaled, slow and steady, as if the weight of those words had been sitting on his chest for years.
"They were never going to let someone like me walk free. Not in this world."
"It's not fair," Casper said, his voice tight with frustration. "Justice shouldn't be influenced by where you come from, by your blood…"
"Fairness? Justice?" Seth let out a burst of wild laughter, raw and bitter, the sound echoing across the open field. "There's no such thing in this world."
His laughter died off, leaving behind a cold stillness in his tone. "Remember what I told you back in Thornspire?"
Casper furrowed his brows, clearly struggling to recall.
Seth didn't wait. "I said it doesn't just take courage to stand apart from the crowd. It takes true strength to go against them."
He paused, his gaze distant now.
"Back then, I thought I was just saying it to sound strong… empty words to make sense of the chaos. But maybe, maybe it was the truth I kept trying to avoid. If I wanted peace… if I wanted anything at all in this world, I was never meant to wait for it. I was meant to fight for it. Every step, every breath, has to be earned."
His fingers unconsciously curled over the bandages on his arm.
"And if that's what it takes to live, then I'll fight. Even if the world says I don't deserve to."
"Besides," Seth said quietly, eyes fixed on the grave, "the life I have now… it doesn't even belong to me anymore."
He gestured toward the stone, his voice firm despite the tremor beneath it.
"It's hers now, and she said I should live it."
He turned to face Casper fully, his expression unreadable- somewhere between grief and resolve.
"I brought you here because you keep blaming yourself for what happened to us. For what we lost. So let me tell you something…"
His gaze sharpened, voice steady as steel.
"If you truly believe that… if you really want things to change- then do what I'm doing. Fight for it."
A gust of wind swept through the field just then, rustling the grass around them and tugging at their clothes. It struck Casper with startling force, as though the wind itself carried the weight of Seth's words.
Not long after, the two found themselves back at Seth's cottage. The air was quiet, the weight of their earlier conversation lingering like the fading echo of a storm. Seth's words had clearly struck something deep within Casper- something that left him thoughtful, changed.
As they reached the cottage, Casper's bodyguards stepped forward, urging him that it was time to return.
He gave a small nod, placing a foot on the carriage step- but paused just before entering. His hand lingered on the frame as he looked back at Seth, eyes steady and voice clear.
"Next time we meet," he said, "I'll be stronger. So you better survive… and come find me."
A faint but genuine smile curved his lips.
"After all, you're still in my party."
Seth let out a soft chuckle, a real one this time, and gave him a nod of acknowledgment.
"You got it."
With that, Casper stepped into the carriage, and as the wheels began to turn and the horses pulled away, Seth stood quietly by the door, watching him disappear down the road- just a little more hopeful than before.