SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 56: Outcasted

Chapter 56: Outcasted

The night air hung heavy with smoke and sorrow as Esmael’s retreating figure disappeared into the shadows. Morvane stood in silence, the heat of the smoldering flames still prickling his skin. A few moments later, a water wielder approached them, his face pale and filled with grief.

"I have bad news," the water wielder began, his voice trembling. "Esmael’s mother... she didn’t survive."

Morvane’s heart sank. "What?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"She wasn’t burned much," the wielder explained. "But she suffocated from the smoke before we could reach her."

Luna’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "No... no, that can’t be," she whispered. "Does Esmael know?"

The wielder shook his head. "Not yet. He left before we found her."

Luna hesitated, looking in the direction Esmael had gone. "I have to tell him," she said firmly, her voice cracking with emotion. "He deserves to know." Without waiting for a response, she turned and retreated into the night, leaving Morvane alone with his thoughts.

Morvane stood motionless, the weight of the news pressing down on him. The guilt he felt over his harsh words to Esmael grew heavier by the second.

"Morvane?" a familiar voice called softly. He turned to see his grandmother approaching, her face etched with sorrow.

"Oh, Morvane, you’re here," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "This is devastating news. Poor Esmael..." She paused, shaking her head. "His power... it’s truly catastrophic. I can’t imagine the burden he carries. I feel bad for him, but..."

She didn’t finish her sentence, but the implication hung in the air. Morvane clenched his fists, guilt and frustration roiling inside him.

"His power isn’t the problem," Morvane said quietly, his voice tense. "It’s his lack of control. He’s not a monster—he just... needs help."

His grandmother sighed, her expression softening. "I know you care for him, Morvane. But the village won’t see it that way. They’ve already lost too much because of him."

Morvane didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon where Luna had disappeared.

The night grew deeper, and with it, the weight of sorrow seemed to press harder on the village. The crackling of dying flames mixed with the hushed murmurs of grieving villagers. Moments later, Luna and Esmael returned, their silhouettes illuminated by the faint glow of embers.

Esmael was running ahead, his cries echoing through the still night. Tears streamed down his face as he reached the lifeless body of his mother, laid carefully on a cloth near the now-extinguished ruins of their home.

"Mother!" Esmael cried, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands trembled as he reached out and embraced her still form. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry..." His sobs wracked his entire body as he clung to her, his tears soaking into her unmoving shoulder.

Luna stood a few steps behind him, her own tears glistening in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, her quiet grief hidden as she tried to stay strong for Esmael. Her gaze flickered to Morvane, who stood nearby, his face grim and unreadable.

Esmael continued to cry, his voice filled with anguish. "This is all my fault... If I hadn’t... if I hadn’t tried to use my powers..." His words were barely coherent through the sobs.

Luna knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Esmael..." she whispered softly.

Esmael looked at her, his face twisted with guilt and pain. "I killed her, didn’t I?" he said, his voice breaking. "I killed my own mother."

Luna shook her head, her voice firm yet tender. "No, Esmael. This wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. You didn’t mean for this to happen."

Esmael shook his head violently, burying his face into his mother’s shoulder once more. "But it keeps happening... every time..."

Morvane, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. His expression was torn between anger and sorrow, but he said nothing. He simply stood there, watching his friend break apart, unsure of how to fix what had been shattered.

Luna glanced at Morvane briefly before turning her focus back to Esmael, her tears silently falling once more as she tried to comfort him.

The first light of dawn spilled over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the charred remains of the village. Esmael, accompanied by his mother’s lifeless body, had been transported away to prepare for the funeral. Silence hung heavy in the air as Morvane, his grandmother, and Luna stood quietly near the still-smoking ruins.

Moments later, a royal messenger arrived on horseback, dismounting swiftly to gather information. Luna stepped forward, her voice calm but tinged with exhaustion. She recounted the events of the night, sparing no detail about the tragedy. The messenger, however, seemed indifferent, offering only a curt nod before responding, "Okay," in an uninterested tone.

A few minutes later, the sound of hooves and wheels broke the quiet, drawing their attention to a stunningly ornate carriage pulling up before them. Its golden embellishments gleamed in the early light, and the insignia of Ketamran marked it as belonging to none other than their king.

The carriage came to a stop, and the door opened. King Medas stepped out, his regal bearing as commanding as ever.

Morvane’s grandmother’s eyes lit up with hope at the sight of him. "Thank the gods our king is here," she said, rushing forward. Bowing slightly, she began to relay the devastating news. "Your Majesty, it’s terrible. Esmael... his mother... she didn’t survive."

Medas’s face remained solemn as he listened, his gaze flickering briefly to the ruins. "A sorrowful event indeed," he said gravely. "Such a tragedy should remind us of the responsibility that comes with power. We must do better in teaching the younger generation to wield their abilities properly."

As he spoke, his piercing gaze shifted to Morvane, lingering just a moment too long, his words heavy with an unspoken message. Morvane stiffened under the weight of that stare, but said nothing.

After a brief pause, Medas turned to the royal messenger and whispered something to him. The messenger bowed and quickly departed, leaving the king alone with the group.

Medas stepped closer to Morvane, his expression unreadable. "Why are you here?" he asked sharply, his tone cutting through the stillness.

Morvane blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"I said, why are you here?" Medas repeated, his voice now firm, laced with authority. "Didn’t I banish you from Ketamran?"

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

Morvane’s grandmother gasped, her face paling. "What? Banish? What’s happening?"

Luna’s eyes widened in shock. "What... what is he talking about?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Morvane remained silent, his jaw tightening as he avoided their questioning gazes.

The tension in the air grew thicker as the sound of galloping hooves signaled the messenger’s return. He rode quickly to King Medas, dismounted, and handed him a scroll.

Medas nodded, gesturing for the messenger to proceed. The messenger stepped forward, unfurling the scroll with practiced precision.

Clearing his throat, he began to read in a loud, authoritative voice:

"By decree of King Medas of Ketamran, it is hereby declared that, as of today, Morvane is officially outcast from the Kingdom of Ketamran. This decision has been made due to—"

The messenger paused, glancing briefly at Morvane before continuing, "—repeated defiance of royal orders, acts of disobedience that endanger the kingdom, and actions unbecoming of a citizen of Ketamran. Let it be known that this exile is absolute and irreversible unless otherwise decreed by the King himself."

The scroll snapped shut as the messenger stepped back, his duty complete. The words seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

Morvane’s grandmother clutched her chest, her voice trembling. "Outcast? My grandson? What did he do to deserve this, Your Majesty?"

Luna stared at Morvane, disbelief and confusion etched across her face. "Morvane... is this true? What did you do?"

Morvane’s lips tightened into a thin line, his fists clenching at his sides. He didn’t meet their eyes, his silence speaking volumes.

King Medas stepped forward, his gaze cold and unyielding. "He knows exactly why this happened," he said firmly. "I gave him chances—more than he deserved. And yet, here he is, in defiance of my orders, standing in Ketamran soil as though nothing has happened."

Morvane finally looked up, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and pain. "I came to help. To protect. That’s all I’ve ever done."

Medas’s expression darkened. "You call this protection? Chaos follows you wherever you go, Morvane. You think your intentions excuse your recklessness? You’ve brought nothing but destruction."

Luna stepped between them, her voice trembling but determined. "Your Majesty, please... whatever Morvane did, there must be a reason. This isn’t like him."

Medas’s gaze softened for a brief moment as he looked at Luna. "Your loyalty to him is admirable, but misplaced. This decision was not made lightly."

He turned back to Morvane. "You are no longer welcome in Ketamran. This village is part of the kingdom’s territory. Leave this land, and do not return."