"How are your rune studies going…" the chief pondered, his gaze falling on a young Belk who drew idly in the sand in the middle of the village. The young boy stared up at his father with a weary expression in his gaze.
"Not doing 'em," the young boy defied, going back to drawing as if nothing had happened.
"Huh? Not doing them?!" he snapped, wondering if he had even heard his son right.
"That's right," Belk quipped without hesitation, his back turned to his father's twitching gaze.
"Those runes are integral to our ancestors' history! You have to learn them!" the old man roared, but his boisterous yell fell on the deaf ears of a child. "Are you even listening to me?!"
"Now, now, just let the boy be for today," a soft hand rested on the chief's shoulder. His eyes darted to a woman with lime green skin, round red eyes, and a cheeky smile.
"You can't be serious…" he mumbled, his passionate disagreement quelled by the woman who stood right beside him. "He needs to learn the eight runes in order to be chief!"
"Well, he can learn them tomorrow," she chuckled, walking over and kneeling right beside the child.
"Wanna go exploring with me?" she mused, Belk's eyes widening with excitement at the idea.
"Yeah!" Belk cheered, immediately standing, hardly staying still.
"You spoil the boy too much, Aurelia…" the chief complained, only seeing Aurelia grin from ear to ear at his accusation.
"And you're way too harsh," she retorted, a pout forming on her delicate features as she pointed accusingly toward the man. "Like seriously, loosen up a bit, will you?"
"You should really take your role as Chieftess more seriously—" he muttered, his voice soft and hesitant, almost as though he wasn't sure if he wanted her to catch wind of his words.
Her playful demeanor sombered at his statement. Her hands wrapped around the arm of her child before simply pulling him away, not sharing another word, leaving the chief with a wave of regret crashing on his back.
The chief sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face the empty space where his family had been just moments ago. The village buzzed around him—children laughing, elders trading stories, the rhythmic clang of the blacksmith's hammer—but to him, it all felt distant, muffled, as though he were standing at the bottom of a deep well. In a fit of rage, he drove his foot through the sand, the dust covering the drawings his son had worked so hard on before.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in a dusky twilight. The chief sat by the hearth, staring into the flickering flames as the weight of the day pressed down on him. He could hear Aurelia in the next room, humming softly as she helped Belk prepare for bed. The sound should have been comforting, but instead, it grated on his nerves.
"Aurelia," the chief called, his voice tight. "We need to talk."
The humming stopped. A moment later, she appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression guarded. "About what?"
The chief pointed outside before leading the way, Aurelia reluctantly following until they were a decent ways away from the village.
Belk slowly slid out of his bed, his curiosity getting the better of him as he quietly followed.
"How long are you going to keep babying him?" his father muttered softly, his voice hushed amongst the many trees that surrounded them now.
"He's but a child," Aurelia responded, her arms crossed at the chief's apparent babbling, his gaze narrowing at her statement.
"You're coddling him," the chief shot back, his voice rising. "You're so busy being his friend that you've forgotten how to be his mother!"
"Who are you to judge my parenting?!" she snapped, her loud voice startling the young boy, who hid in the bushes nearby. "You're no better a man than my father!"
"You're no better a man than my father!" Aurelia continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "Always pushing, always demanding, never stopping to think about what anyone else needs!"
The chief recoiled as if struck, his expression flickering between anger and hurt. "That's not fair," he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "I'm trying to do what's best for him—for all of us. The world isn't kind, Aurelia. It won't wait for him to grow up at his own pace."
"And what if he breaks under the pressure?" Aurelia fired back, her voice rising again. "What if he grows up resenting you—resenting us—for forcing him into a role he never asked for?"
"That won't happen because he's my son!" the chief shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. His hands tightened into fists, the veins in his temples bulging as his anger boiled over. "He's not you! Always complaining, always escaping your responsibilities! Daydreaming in the sky all the time!"
Aurelia flinched as if struck, her red eyes widening in shock before narrowing into a glare. She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. Instead, she stood frozen, her arms still crossed but her posture stiff, as though bracing herself against the weight of his words.
The chief didn't stop. "We married to finally bring an end to war on this beautiful land," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "Because of you, because of your selfishness, that was almost out of reach!"
Aurelia's lips trembled, her usual confidence crumbling under the force of his accusations. She took a step back, her hands dropping to her sides as she stared at him, her expression a mix of hurt and disbelief.
"Selfishness?" she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think I'm selfish?"
Aurelia's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze with a defiant glare.
"If I'm so selfish, then why did I agree to marry you in the first place?" she shot back, her voice trembling but fierce. "Why did I give up everything to be here, to be your Chieftess, to raise your son? Do you think that was easy for me?"
The chief's expression faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. But before he could respond, Aurelia turned on her heel and strode away, her steps quick and deliberate.
Aurelia sat alone on a hillside, her arms around her knees as she watched the night sky, tears flowing freely from her eyes before she wiped them away.
"Isn't it past your bedtime, young man?" she pondered, listening as the grass behind her ruffled, her young boy appearing by her side with a hesitant look in his eyes.
She looked back at him with a weary smile, reaching to pat the boy's head. "You heard all of that…didn't you? I'm sorry."
Her lips pursed together tightly, her gaze wavering a little before dropping to the hands of her son, seeing something within them.
"What's that?" she pondered softly, watching as the boy opened his hands to show her.
"I thought I'd give you this, to cheer you up," Belk murmured, holding up a stone covered in dull crystals.
His mother smiled, accepting the stone in her palms, her gentle fingers caressing his for a moment before holding the stone up into the sky.