Sneak Peek: Ruben Ch10 (1) (Patreon)

You head to the left and continue forth until you reach the study from before. The natural light that once pervaded the room is no more. Instead, the moon's light casts a dim ethereal glow combated by the harsh orange radiance originating from the candles. You enter, your fingers skimming the top of the desk and nearby table. You ponder if this feeling will ever cease. Maybe the longer you're here, or perhaps never, for they are only memories. They dance and trapeze on the edge of your consciousness, and as soon as you turn your attention to them, they vanish. No matter how hard you wish to pull them back, they remain hidden.

"You used to sit at that desk and try to help me work," you hear a voice say behind you. Turning, you see your father sitting on the window's ledge. There is a pipe in his hands and a sadness in his eyes as he watches you. "I would tell you that I could not play with you, that too much work was upon me. The next day, I came in to find you sitting there, drawing on the parchment with such determination on your face that I believed you had just answered every difficult question spoken. I recall your smile so easily, showing me the paper and saying. Look wot, I have helped. Can you play now?"

"My memory is not excellent, far from it, but I do not recall you ever smoking."

He hums, turning his attention to the window, "it serves you well enough. I have started this a decade ago and have since found it a hard habit to break."

"Is this as surreal for you as it is for me?"

"Someone had to say it," he chuckles, the sound dying out soon after it is made. He approaches you, eyes squinted and the pain of fifteen years clear on every feature.

"I do not wish to lie to you. We had given up hope. The most we hoped for was a body to mourn. To bury you amongst your people where you belong. And then for you to come to us, but for it to be too late. I had truly believed we were all cursed. I almost wished the polar bear had not told us of your fate. If she had kept it to herself, perhaps we could spare ourselves all the heartache." Tears begin to form and slip down his cheeks, "and for you to now stand before us, as bright as the sun itself, it is nothing short of a miracle. I do not know what happened, but I will forever be grateful to that force. To have you back is all we have ever prayed for. And all I hope is that you can forgive us."

"Forgive you?"

"For all the pain our missteps have caused you. I am to protect you. That was my sole duty when you were born. And I failed. And I am so sorry."

[[“There's nothing to forgive.”]]

[[“Only time can say.”]]

[[“You did indeed fail.”]]