Wielder Of The Dragon Flame

Chapter 41

“P.P.S. Marcus, I'm holding you to that promise about the sword techniques. Start preparing your best teaching voice.”

“P.P.P.S. Gregor , please tell me honestly how bad your back is. If you need money for a healer, I'll find a way to send some. The labor section pays a pittance, but I've been saving every copper.”

He read through what he'd written one more time, checking for anything he'd forgotten or wanted to add. Then he carefully folded the letter, sealed it with the basic wax provided at the portal station, and addressed it with their names and the return address they'd included in their letters.

Asta placed his reply into the outgoing section of his portal,a separate small compartment meant for letters to be sent out,then locked everything back up. 

His hands were steadier now, the act of writing having helped him process some of the overwhelming emotions.

He gathered Gregor 's, Helena's, and Marcus's letters carefully, tucking them into the inner pocket of his tunic where they'd be safe. These were treasures, proof that someone in the world still cared about him, and he'd guard them accordingly.

Taking a deep breath, Asta stepped back from his portal and closed the small door. When he turned around, he found Jabber already waiting just outside his own portal, standing with his arms wrapped around himself, staring at the ground.

His face was pale. Very pale. And his expression,that carefully maintained blank mask,had cracked slightly, revealing something raw and hurt underneath.

Asta's stomach dropped. 

"Jabber? What's up?"

Jabber didn't look up. His eyes remained fixed on the stone floor, as if the answer to every question in the universe could be found in those worn flagstones. His throat worked like he was trying to swallow something difficult.

"Nothing." 

Jabber said, but his voice was hollow, brittle, on the edge of breaking. 

"It's nothing."

It definitely wasn't nothing.

Asta walked over slowly, giving Jabber space to retreat if he wanted to, but also making it clear he wasn't going to just walk away and pretend everything was fine. 

When he reached Jabber's side, he raised one hand and gently touched his friend's back.

"It's okay, Jabber." 

Asta said quietly. The message portal area was loud with dozens of conversations, people laughing and crying and exclaiming over their letters, so Asta's words were just for Jabber, private in the midst of the public space. 

"There's always next time. The portal will open again in another month or…"

"There won't be a next time."

 Jabber cut in, his voice flat and dead. "There's never a next time for me. Four months I've been here. Four portal openings. Four times I've checked, hoping..."

 He trailed off, his hands clenching into fists. 

"But there's never anything. They've made it clear they're done with me.”

Asta felt his chest tighten with sympathetic pain. After last night's conversation, after hearing about Jabber's father's three-sentence dismissal, this shouldn't be surprising. 

But somehow it was still gut-wrenching to see his friend standing there, having hoped despite everything that maybe this time would be different.

"I'm sorry," Asta said, meaning it with everything in him. 

"That's really unfair. You deserve better than…"

"Hey! There you guys are!"

Both of them turned to see Flora and Mira approaching through the crowd, weaving between people with the easy confidence of those who knew how to navigate crowded spaces. 

Flora's face was bright with a smile, clearly in good spirits, while Mira looked more neutral but not unhappy.

"Did you guys get any messages?" 

Flora asked as they reached Asta and Jabber. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, and she was clutching a letter in her hands like it was made of gold.

"Yes." 

Asta said, forcing a smile he didn't quite feel. He glanced at Jabber, who had gone even more rigid, his face carefully blank again.

 "I got letters from my old butler and the household staff. They're doing okay, all things considered."

"That's great!" 

Flora said, genuine warmth in her voice. Then she glanced down at her own letter and let out a short, sharp laugh that held equal parts amusement and exasperation. 

"You want to know what my parents wrote to me?"

"What?" 

Mira asked, grinning like she already knew this was going to be good.

Flora cleared her throat dramatically and adopted a pompous tone, clearly imitating her father: 

"'Dear Flora, we hope your time in the labor section is teaching you proper humility and respect for authority. Perhaps a few more months of manual labor will cure you of your rebellious tendencies and your unfortunate habit of questioning your betters.”

“When you are ready to apologize for your behavior and commit to becoming the proper daughter we raised you to be, we will consider allowing you to return home. Until then, please reflect deeply on your mistakes. With measured affection, Father.'"

She finished with an exaggerated eye roll, and despite the heaviness in his chest, Asta felt a genuine laugh bubble up.

 "Measured affection? Your father actually wrote 'measured affection'?"

"Word for word." 

Flora confirmed, shaking her head. 

"He's always been... formal. Even when I was little and would run to hug him, he'd pat my head and say something like 'That's quite enough emotional display, daughter.' My mother's no better, her section of the letter is three paragraphs about proper posture and ladylike behavior."

Mira was laughing now too, a deep, genuine sound. 

"At least your parents write to you. Mine..." 

She pulled out her own letter, considerably shorter than Flora's. 

"Mine sent me exactly two sentences: 'Mira, your actions have brought shame to the Stoneheart name. Do not contact us again until you have rectified this situation.'" 

She waved the letter like it was a flag.

 "Two sentences! I got dismissed in fewer words than it takes to order lunch!”

Both she and Flora were laughing about it, finding humor in the absurdity, and Asta found himself joining in despite everything.

 There was something weirdly comforting about knowing that even people from prominent clans,Flora was from one of the mid-tier families,well that was what she wrote in her biography and Mira's Stoneheart clan was known for their combat prowess and got treated like failures when they ended up in the labor section.

"What about you, Asta?...”