The Stonehearted Knight-Chapter 122: A new dawn

Everything was destroyed. Grindeston didn’t exist anymore.

That was Hestia’s impression along the way. Although she wasn’t born in the town or had any family here, she had lived quite a few years in this part of the world.

The sparsely spread bushes, trees, and grassy slopes had disappeared completely.

Everywhere they looked, there were devastations, fires, broken buildings, and bodies. Many bodies. Some were whole, some were missing parts, and almost all were charred and beyond recognition.

Hestia and Althea progressed slowly. They didn’t have a choice. Every path they knew was broken or missing. And it was dark. Extremely dark.

The big chasm in the middle of the hill didn’t help. The closer they got to the castle, the more cautious they became. After all, they didn’t know about the battle’s outcome. There could be enemies waiting around.

But they didn’t see anyone. Glancing at each other, they entered the castle grounds. It was deserted and destroyed. There were long cracks in the ground and blackened columns. The lightning didn’t spare even a single inch undamaged.

The sight of the half-broken castle and destroyed towers affected Hestia more than Althea. She subconsciously compared the ruin before her with the magnificent building in her memory.

"Oh Heavens. Can someone even survive a destruction like this?" She gasped, her heart sinking in sorrow. But she quickly held her tongue when Althea glared at her.

"I didn’t mean...I just...sorry," was what she managed to say in the end. But before Althea could speak, they heard a muffled sound coming from behind the southern tower.

They immediately became wary. Althea readied her spear and Hestia activated her mark. The moment she returned to the castle ground she felt reconnected to the natural element around it. She still put a few self-cultivated seeds in her hand and mouth, just in case.

Using the broken pieces of wall and roof as cover, they sneaked closer. As they neared the source, the sound started to become clear. But it confused them even more, especially Hestia.

’Is...that is...why is someone using a shovel?’

The abnormality of the situation worried her even more. There was no reason she could think of for someone to use a shovel after a battle. And certainly not after a battle of this scale.

They reached the wall, blocking their view from the source of the sound. They peeked carefully.

On their way here, they had seen all kinds of shocking things, but all that paled compared to how shocked they were at the sight before them.

Hex was before them, working hard with a shovel. It seemed like he was filling in a hole. It took a moment for both of the ladies to realize it was a grave. The bed of clay and dirt covering two other graves helped them realize this.

"What...," Hestia was about to rush toward Hex but was held back by Althea. The girl shook her head sternly, silencing Hestia, who clearly wanted to protest.

She pointed at Hex’s face. Only then did Hestia notice. His face was devoid of emotions. It was blank. Somehow, the ladies felt more pained seeing him like this than if he had been crying or wallowing in despair.

Hex stood shirtless, his muscles glistening with sweat. Clinging to his skin were clay, dirt, and dried-out blood. Althea waited silently for him to finish. As did Hestia.

...

Hex wasn’t conscious of his surroundings. He was just shoveling. It was the only thing he realized he could do.

He didn’t mourn the death of the old man. His grandfather was behind everything that happened. And if he were to believe his story, he also led to one of his mothers becoming the Witch.

In the last half day, he had been through a lot. He pushed through all of that but when he heard the old man call him grandson, his reality dawned upon him.

In the span of a night, he learned he wasn’t human, at least not by conventional definitions. He was a tool created by one mother. He had another mother, the one who gave him life. But it came at the cost of her own life.

Then both came back to life. One more than the other. But somehow, he ended up costing both of them their lives. Again. And if that wasn’t enough his hesitation cost an innocent kid’s life. A kid who had been the only one to look up to him. One who called him big brother.

It didn’t end there. Living up to his name, Hex, a curse, he saw his master, a man no one could defeat, willingly enter the Vault, imprisoning himself for eternity.

In the end, he even killed, or at least quickened the death of his grandfather. After living alone for eighteen years, he found and lost his family in one night. And this time, he really was the reason for ending up alone.

Clang.

The sound of his shovel hitting the hard ground pulled him back from his dark thoughts. Looking down, he noticed he had closed his grandfather’s grave. Exhaling deeply, he picked up a broken piece of stone and placed it on the grave.

"Are you alright?" He heard someone ask suddenly. He readied his shovel but relaxed when he saw Althea and Hestia.

"I don’t know," he replied, shrugging to seem nonchalant about it.

But the next moment he was pressed tightly between the two ladies. He didn’t struggle. He couldn’t. It felt nice. Even if it wasn’t the same as his mother’s, the warmth helped to lessen the coldness inside.

He closed his eyes and relaxed. They stayed like this for a while. No questions were asked. Not at this moment. They enjoyed the calm.

Suddenly, Hex felt something prick his eyes. He ignored it at first, but when it continued, he begrudgingly opened them.

The first ray of the morning shone right into his eyes. Hex didn’t close his eyes. Standing on top of the hill, he saw the sun appear on the horizon. Its golden light illuminated the forests far away and the devastated barren lands near them.

The rising sun rekindled the smoldering fire of hope inside him. No matter how dark a night was, it was always defeated by a new dawn.