Regaleon: The Forgotten Knight

Notwithstanding the stares and glares of disapproval being directed toward him by the other members of the cohort, Veyrath pressed on with what he wanted to say.

”Guys, I know that you are angry at what I tried to do earlier—”

The failed Alchemist had barely gotten the words out when Caelestra abruptly cut him off. ”Not tried to. You did.”

Her voice was devoid of any leniency.

The silver-haired Merchant’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Veyrath, her expression carrying an unmistakable mixture of indignation and disappointment.

Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and the slight tension in her shoulders made it evident that she was still far from willing to let the matter go.

”It was something that you consciously partook in, so stop trying to make yourself look justifiable in this matter.”

Veyrath’s lips immediately pressed into a thin line.

Honestly, at this point, one could very much figure out that Caelestra seemed to be the most indignant member of the group.

Even Regaleon—the person directly affected by Veyrath’s actions—was not nearly as vexed or frustrated as she appeared to be.

The disparity was difficult to overlook.

While Regaleon maintained his usual composure, Caelestra seemed almost personally affronted by what had happened. Her eyes remained fixed upon Veyrath with such intensity that it was almost as though she were struggling to restrain herself from saying something even harsher.

Because of this particular vehemence, one could not help but wonder whether there was more to the situation that made the silver-haired Merchant so passionate about it.

Perhaps she was simply hurt by the lack of loyalty Veyrath had displayed when he committed such an act, and that sense of betrayal had fueled her anger.

Or perhaps she harboured some sort of one-sided feeling toward Regaleon, and because he happened to be the subject of Veyrath’s betrayal, Caelestra had become especially protective of him.

Honestly, at this stage, the second reason seemed considerably more plausible.

But whatever the case, there was no doubt that, in Caelestra’s books, Veyrath was unforgivable.

Veyrath pursed his lips the moment he noticed the disapproving stare Caelestra directed at him. For a brief moment, he looked as though he were reconsidering whether continuing was even worth the effort.

Nevertheless, he forced himself to remain composed as he apologized.

”I’m sorry.” His voice was quieter this time.

”Like I was saying, I know that you all are angry at what I tri—” He caught himself almost immediately. ”I mean, did earlier...”

As he spoke, his gaze instinctively shifted toward Caelestra. The silver-haired Merchant merely continued staring at him; however, when she made no move to interrupt or reprimand him again, Veyrath secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

At least he had gotten past that hurdle.

He lowered his gaze for a moment before continuing, his fingers subtly tightening against one another.

”Also, I understand that there is nothing I could try to say that would get you guys to forgive me or anything of that sort. But still, I just want to apologize.”

His expression became noticeably more solemn.

”I know that what I did was abhorrent and reprehensible, but I just want you guys to forgive me.”

The words came slowly, almost as though each one carried a weight he was reluctant to acknowledge.

”Also, I want you to know that my actions then were not intended to hurt anyone or anything. It was simply a way in which I felt that I could at least secure my own survival.”

There was sincerity in his voice, regret, too. And beneath both was a lingering sense of shame.

Yet despite the remorse evident in Veyrath’s expression and the subdued tone with which he spoke, it still was not enough to convince the others.

The silence that followed was heavy and no one appeared particularly moved by his apology.

Kaeloris eventually shifted his cracked spectacles, carefully pushing them higher upon the bridge of his nose. His expression remained analytical, but there was an unmistakable trace of reproach in his eyes as he regarded Veyrath.

”Veyrath, although from your perspective, you might not have intended any harm, your actions are otherwise a rather damning indication of it.”

Veyrath’s expression stiffened slightly.

”I mean, while I understand that you thought that was probably the right thing to do at the time, did you actually stop to consider how it would reflect on us, whether in a positive or negative manner?”

Kaeloris paused briefly, allowing the question to settle.

”Besides that, during that point, why is it that you didn’t discuss with us and, you know, communicate with us so that we could have found a way out of that murky situation at the time?”

His brows furrowed slightly.

”Had you done that, then there would have been no need for you to betray Regaleon in the first place.”

Kaeloris’ words struck Veyrath’s heart with such intensity and clarity that, for several moments, the failed Alchemist could not formulate a rebuttal or even a plausible excuse.

His mouth opened slightly but then as quickly as it opened, it closed. His eyes lowered and there was nothing he could say because Kaeloris was right... Painfully so.

Had Veyrath not panicked and reacted on impulse, he would have realized that the situation had already been handled to some extent by Aelric.

More importantly, if he had simply done as Kaeloris suggested and discussed possible strategies with the others, there might have been at least a smidgen of a chance that they could have devised some method of wriggling themselves free from the predicament they had unknowingly entered.

Perhaps it would have failed... Or perhaps it would have succeeded. But at the very least, they would have faced the danger together.

Instead, Veyrath had acted before thinking.

He had allowed fear to overwhelm reason, and desperation to eclipse his loyalty to the people who had fought alongside him through countless dangers.

And because of that impulsiveness, he had ended up committing a grave mistake, one that had fractured the trust the group had placed in him.

Veyrath’s shoulders sagged slightly as the realization settled more heavily upon him.

He had always been eccentric, impulsive and at times, even reckless which could make him quite a handful to deal with. But despite all of those flaws and attributes, there was one thing Veyrath understood with painful certainty.

Trust, once broken, was not something that could easily be repaired.

A cracked object could be mended, a wounded body could heal; but trust was different.

Once shattered, the fragments did not simply return to their original form. And even when it was eventually restored, it would never return to the way it had been before...