A BROKEN KNIGHT

Layne Grimoult was pissed. It was evident in his gait. As a Knight of the faith of the unblemished's elite force, he was to carry himself with grace. But it was difficult to do so. The sword on his hip buckled as his steps quickened.

"Where is my Father?!" Layne demanded when he reached the chambers of Cassius Grimoult, the Archmage of faith of the unblemished, acting Major of the Divine Swords and his father. The entrance was blocked by two guards whose expressions told him they would not hesitate to give him a beating if he did not keep his distance.

"The Major does not want to speak with you," One of the guards mouthed. "His words to you are law. You will get married regardless of whether you like it or not."

Layne tightened his fist while his free hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. The guards were good but not that good. It had been over a year since he had been battling Arcans, an experience he was certain even the oldest of the human guards couldn't beat.

"I will not hear the words of my father's lapdogs. If the man has something to say, he better come out here and say it to me." Layne bellowed, ensuring his voice was loud enough for his father to hear. He waited for a brief moment, hoping his father's resolve would break. But as the seconds stretched, Layne realized he would have to do more than talk. "Would you have me beat your men to a pulp and get punished before you decide to grace me audience!?"

The door the guards were fiercely protecting did not budge. Layne knew his surrogate father. The man might be loving but he was a stickler for doing things his way. He had to send a message of he was to draw the man out of hiding. Without hesitation, he drew his sword from its sheath and pointed it in the direction of the guard that had spoken.

"Would you kindly move or do I have to force my way through?"

He watched the man's grip on his spear tighten. The man was terrified. He was facing The. Layne. Grimoult. The only child of the Archmage Cassius and he was labeled the one who danced with devils. There was a huge difference in their power scaling. But the guard had sworn his life and loyalty to the Major of the divine swords and if the Major wanted his son out of his quarters, then so be it.

"I'm afraid the latter is the only way out for both of us."

Layne sighed in defeat. He had to reach the other side. The only issue in that plan was that he needed to pass through the guards without seriously hurting them. That was the hard part. Clutching his sword even tighter, Layne focused on one objective; stun the guards long enough to get in.

With a swift motion, Layne lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with precision. His aim was not to harm, but to disarm.

One guard lunged towards him, his spear thrusting forward. The knight parried the attack skillfully, deflecting the spearhead and with a quick twist of his body, he swept his leg out, knocking the first guard off balance. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly tapped the flat side of his sword against the guard's side, stunning him momentarily but enough to cause the guard to fall flat on his back.

When the second guard saw what had happened to his subordinate, he lunged forward, his spear aimed at Layne's chest. The act itself was not malicious. Layne was adorned in chain armor that would protect him from the spearhead. Perfectly too, if Layne ensured the guard did not gather enough momentum.

Sidestepping with agility, Layne effortlessly evaded the attack, his sword deflecting the spear with a resounding clash. Taking advantage of the guard's exposed flank, he swung his sword in an arcing motion, delivering a controlled blow to the guard's side.

The second guard grunted, a mixture of pain and surprise escaping his lips as the blow knocked the wind right out of his system. Sensing an opening, Layne, the one with the sword, swiftly seized the opportunity and slipped past the disoriented guards, deftly maneuvering through the entrance to the quarters. With a quick but deliberate motion, he shut the heavy door behind him, cutting off any pursuit from the guards outside.

Inside the quarters, Layne took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Entering my quarters won't accomplish anything, son," Cassius spoke, his gaze leaving the scrolls he had been studying intently and fixating on his son. He had a keen perception and one look at his son told him a story. Layne's honey-gold hair was tangled and disheveled, a reflection of his weariness. The scent of grit and dried blood clung to his armor, a pungent reminder that his son had been out hunting rogue Arcans instead of preparing for his impending wedding just hours away.

"You are getting married tomorrow, and that is final," Cassius continued, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. He rose from his seat, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. "I have spent months arranging this alliance for the sake of your future. It is not a decision to be taken lightly."

Layne, standing before him, looked worn but determined. The young man's face bore the marks of recent battles, a testament to his commitment to protecting their realm. Yet, Cassius could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire to honor his duty as the son of the Archmage, and the promise to keep mourning for his dead wife.

"I understand your desire to continue your duties, to fight for what you believe in," Cassius softened his tone, his voice tinged with paternal affection. "But I worry about you. It has been over a year now since Faye's passing. You are not getting better."

"Faye did not pass. Death did not call her in its sweet embrace. She was murdered, Father."

"I know it well, son. Which is why I want this to happen. I want this marriage to happen for your sake. You cannot keep feeding your grief and anger by hunting rogue Arcans. No matter how much they deserve it, it will not feel the void. Faye is not coming back."

Layne's gaze shifted, a flicker of resignation crossing his face. Cassius knew the weight of his words had settled upon him, a realization of the sacrifices that lay ahead. He reached out, placing a hand on his son's shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze.

"Tomorrow, you will stand at the altar, and a new chapter of your life will begin," Cassius said, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and solemnity. He paused, his gaze softening as he looked upon his son. "Embrace it, my son. Embrace the responsibilities and the joys that come with it. Faye wouldn't want you to suffer. I am sure she would want nothing more than to see you find happiness."

Layne's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, the weight of his impending marriage was evident on his weary shoulders. The mention of Faye, his bride who had tragically passed away, brought a bitter ache to his heart. "I am not sure I can do it, Father." A single tear escaped his eye and trailed down his cheek.

"I understand the pain you carry within you," Cassius continued, his voice gentle and compassionate. "But it is important to remember that life is a tapestry of joy and sorrow. Faye's spirit will always be with you, guiding you towards a future that she would have wanted for you."

Layne took a step back, his emotions overwhelming him as tears continued to pour down his cheeks. "You are wrong," he insisted, his voice trembling with anguish. "Faye would never want this. She wouldn't want me to move on and forget her memory."

His eyes darted across the room, searching for an escape, as if the weight of his grief threatened to consume him entirely. The pain was raw, the wound still fresh from the loss of his Faye.

"I can't do this," Layne whispered, his voice filled with desperation and uncertainty.

Cassius, unmoved by his son's anguish, stood tall with a resolute expression. His voice carried a firmness that brooked no argument. "But you will," he retorted, his words laced with a steely determination. "You will dress your best tomorrow and walk into the Renold household to pick up your bride. For Faye's sake and my sake."

The room fell silent, the weight of Cassius' words hanging in the air. Layne's tear-stained face bore the conflict between his love for Faye and the expectations placed upon him. He knew his father's words held a deeper meaning, a plea to honor the past while embracing the future.

As the silence stretched on, Layne's trembling voice broke through, filled with a mix of sorrow and reluctant acceptance. "For Faye," he whispered, a flicker of determination lighting up his eyes. "I will do this, Father. I will honor her memory and fulfill my responsibilities."

Cassius nodded, his features softening with understanding. He reached out a hand to his son, offering support and strength. "Together, we will navigate this path, my son. Remember, love can exist alongside grief. Faye's memory will always have a place in your heart, but life has a way of guiding us forward, even in the face of tragedy."