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Like nothing happened. Like nothing was said. Or nothing that was in any way at all noteworthy at the very least.

Apparently, I’m alone, I guess I’m the odd one out, speechless in my horror, my shock – feeling a sickening, sinking feeling churning in my gut.

That slip of paper, with those unintelligible scribbles inscribed metaphorically spelling out her demise – and Dad had it all this while.

I tried picturing it for a moment – that haunting prospect in its most literal sense, and I saw a man holding a tainted knife in a blood-drenched grip, lying at his feet was his wife’s body... the life ebbing out from her eyes in a thickening, deepening pool of dark crimson.

That nauseating feeling reached a peak and I had to wrap a hard grip around a stable gate just to keep myself steady.

There were so many things I was right then, but at the very least I wasn’t irrational, not yet anyway. Morally outraged as I was – I could still see the cold calculating logic behind his actions.

.....

Someone like Mom... especially if it was someone like her... there’s an urgent need for a safeguard, a deterrence of sorts... it’s the exact same reasoning I used for refusing to let Sera off her leash in the first place.

Like father, like son, I guess...

But there was still just one thing I wasn’t getting.

“You don’t sound too upset that he even had that scripture thing in the first place,” I said, quiet enough so that I couldn’t hear my discomfort out loud. “Were you expecting Dad to have something like that with him?”

“Of course not,” She said, as if it really was that obvious. “Why would I ever think that he’d keep with him one of the only means to kill me? I’m his wife. I love him. Unwavering trust – isn’t that the foundation to a strong healthy marriage?”

“So why aren’t you – ”

“Angry?” She nudged her head, raising a brow. “What’s there to be angry about? I know that he loves me, trusts me, but more important than that, I know that he knows me... and he knows exactly what I entail...” slowly, almost bashfully, her lips curled into another spontaneous smile, and when she spoke again, her gaze didn’t meet mine. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

From one end of the barn to the other, my eyes hastily whirled, and there beneath the parted barn doors, a large, lumbering silhouette shuffled forward drenched in darkness.

Dad. Smelling like a mixture of lingering smoke and rainwater.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Grieven jeered from afar, his disdain somehow reaching an even higher peak. “If it isn’t the supposed Hero of Kronocia! Round of applause... you did a very good job! Our savior! Our champion! TRAITOR!”

“Quiet,” His voice dangerously boomed in the darkness. “I didn’t come here to talk to you. So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me.”

“And why’s that?” Grieven demand, eyes wide and bloodshot. “From guilt? From unrest? Can’t bear seeing one of the lives you’ve failed to protect?! Yeah, you’d rather just run away, right?! Far, far away from your responsibilities! Do you really think you can keep running forever?!”

“From who? From what?” Dad calmly asked back. “There’s nothing to run from for me. But if you keep talking then I’ll make sure there’s something to run from for you.”

It was the first time I’ve ever heard him threaten someone, and quite brazenly at that. Surprisingly enough, Grieven complied with his orders. Out of fear, out of anything – I don’t know... but immediately soon after, he went back to his withdrawn sulking self.

And yet again, I find myself as the only one here caught completely blindsided by his appearance. And just as suddenly, I noticed Adalia was standing close by my side – her vacant eyes peering at him with only the slightest of interest. It was like she knew he was coming.

In fact, with all the idling around Mom was doing even after getting that piece of parchment, it seemed as if she was still waiting for something... or for someone.

And now seeing that delighted expression on her face... I suppose that someone has finally arrived.

Was that the plan?

What is the plan?

Dad stopped his march once he was within meters of the foreboding figure in black, passing me as he did, glancing only once, before his every stoic piercing blue eyes began to reflect back in the darkness in hers.

“The scripture,” He muttered, pointing a loose finger at her. “You weren’t supposed to find that.”

“And you weren’t supposed to have it,” She responded back dryly. “But since you did have it, and since I did manage to find it, we might as well make good use of it, right?”

Somehow he knew. He took one look at her, and immediately he just knew. How was that possible? Hell, only God knows at this point. Conveniently enough, we have the closest equivalent to one right here... only neither of them was telling.

“When did you find out?” He asked, seemingly unfazed at the notion of his greatest secret being exposed.

“From the very first ‘I do’ we pledged to each other,” She said in a playful, endearing tone. “Ever the romantic you are, hm? Put a ring in one hand, and hide a knife in the other. Scandalous.”

No guilt, no remorse, he simply raised his hand out at her. “Give it back. It’s useless. You’re the furthest thing away from divinity. You can’t even use it.”

“No, I can’t,” She tilted her gaze. “But you can.”

And like puzzle pieces locking and fitting well into place, I finally understood her whole grand master plan. It was like a convoluted migraine-inducing math equation.

Her powers to extract the soul, Adalia to hide her presence, the scripture to dilute her magic even more, and the final piece – the very Champion of the Divines himself to recite said scripture and to finally get the ball rolling.

It’s brilliant, genuinely clever... but just one problem...

“You’re really going to make Dad use it on you?” I asked, reminding everyone of my presence again, with a loud wheezy gasp. “You didn’t forget what he originally intended to use that for, did you?”

“There’s nothing personal about it, the way I see it, this is the only way to mitigate the risk of doing this,” Mom casually explained. “And I’m very sure that your father will be very, very gentle with me... right, sweetie?”

“No,” He stretched his palm out even more. “Do it without the scripture. Matriarch illusions are powerful. You’ll manage.”

“But not infallible, as you very well know,” She threw him a soft stare. “Please, dear, it’ll help.”

‘It’ll hurt,” He refuted, taking a step closer towards her. “And you’re hurting enough already.”

“Oh, hush now, you, you’re going to make me blush,” with a small giggle, the hems of dress began lightly skirting across the ground as she pranced on over, and tugged his outstretched hand closer to her. “Augh, ooo, that stench... smoking again? Not in the house, I hope?”

This time, for this, he was apologetic. Sounding a grunt and tilting his head, prompting Mom to burst out in another affectionate chuckle.

“My most cardinal rule – broken. Oh well, guess you and the couch will be best of friends for tonight.”

Dad remained his usual stoic and yet in spite of that, he compiled to every one of her silent requests. She held his hand, and he held back. She pulled him, and he budged. And just for a second, I saw them, and I was taken back to a time when all I could see was a loving husband and wife in each other’s arms... and not this giant haystack of deceit and lies.

All that being said, there was still absolutely no denying it – they both loved each other deeply. And very much at that.

“Do you really believe this is necessary?” He asked.

“Oh, come now,” Mom said, stroking the faint stubbles forming on his cheeks. “You know, I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t think it was, right?”

“And you know once recited, the scripture can no longer be spoken – it’ll just be scrap. I won’t be able to use it again.”

“And why on earth would you ever feel the need to use it again?”

He just stared at her. “I know you, Lilith.”

“Yes, that you do, indeed, Michael...” She responded back to him, staring right back. “And you trust me, don’t you?”