As Cedric sat on the edge of the bed, still trying to gather his thoughts and make sense of all that had happened, the scent of Lunareth Bloom lingering in the air, the strange mark on his chest, the impossible absence of his wounds, a sudden, thunderous bang shook the door.
The sharp noise jolted him upright.
"Open this door!" a voice barked from outside, harsh, commanding, unmistakably military.
His mother gasped, wiping her hands on her apron as she rushed to the front of the house. "Stay here," she said softly, but her voice trembled.
Before she could even reach the door fully, it flew open with another violent crack, nearly knocking her backwards. Several armored soldiers pushed their way inside, dirt and tension trailing in with them. Their eyes were cold, their weapons sheathed but ready.
"Where is your son?" one demanded. "Where is Cedric Hanan?"
His mother tried to steady herself. "Please, he's only just.."
But they were already moving, sweeping through the house like a storm. Doors were flung open. Chairs knocked aside. Boots thudded against wooden floors. Cedric barely had time to stand before two soldiers burst into his room.
Without a word, they seized him by both arms.
"Wait, what is this?" Cedric shouted, struggling against their iron grip. "Why are you doing this? I haven't done anything!"
The soldiers didn't answer. Their faces were impassive, like men performing a grim task they didn't care to understand.
"Answer me!" Cedric cried, but only silence followed.
He was dragged from the room, his bare heels skimming the floor, and pulled into the open air of morning. The light struck his face, and the sting of it felt almost cruel.
He twisted around as he was taken from the doorway, his eyes locking with his mother's.
She had fallen to her knees just outside the house, clutching the doorframe, tears running freely down her cheeks. Her mouth moved, but no words came out, just the sound of helpless weeping.
Cedric's voice softened even as the soldiers pulled him farther away.
"Mother… don't cry. I'll be back. I promise. This changes nothing."
But the soldiers didn't stop. The noise of their boots pounding the earth echoed down the hill, growing fainter with each step, leaving behind the broken quiet of a home no longer safe.
Cedric was then dragged and shoved into a cold, damp cell. The iron door clanged shut behind him, echoing through the stone corridor. As his body hit the unforgiving floor, Cedric scrambled up, gripping the cell bars with shaking hands.
"Why are you doing this?" he cried out, voice cracking with disbelief. "I haven't done anything!"
A soldier broad-shouldered, with a sneer carved into his face turned back. He stepped close enough for his breath to fog the bars between them. With a look of contempt, he spat on the ground just shy of Cedric's feet.
"Filthy deserter," the soldier muttered. "How dare you run while others bled for the pride of Fonswyn Vale?"
He took a step back, a cruel smirk stretching across his face.
"I bet your father was a coward too," he added. "His body was never found. Deserted, didn't he? Just like his son."
Cedric said nothing. The insult hit like a warhammer to the chest. A thousand memories of his father, once a proud knight, now a silent ghost, rushed to the surface. It was only then that Cedric understood why he had been charged. Desertion. That word hung in the air heavier than the cell's foul musk.
He staggered back, the chill of the stone floor seeping into his knees.
Then a voice, low and rasping, broke the silence. From the shadows in the far corner of the cell, someone spoke:
"Can you please be quiet? You're not the only one in this room."
Cedric froze. He hadn't realized he was sharing the cell. He turned toward the voice, eyes narrowing to pierce the gloom. A figure slowly emerged from the shadows, face still hidden, posture relaxed but coiled like a serpent.
The stranger gave a dry chuckle. "Great. Another loud one."