Chapter 22: I’M SORRY

Edran Venn’s house was small and warm.

There were three grandchildren in family portraits, one crooked shelf, dried herbs hanging over the stove, and an aggressively ugly ceramic dog beside the fireplace.

Vael focused on the dog because looking at Edran felt harder.

Tea was poured.

No one drank.

Edran sat across from him.

"You said you were responsible."

"Yes."

"Were you an officer?"

"Yes."

"How high?"

Vael looked at the tea.

The System appeared.

Not pink.

No hearts.

A plain translucent window.

[QUEST]

[Say you’re sorry.]

[Reward: None.]

Vael stared at it.

"No reward?"

[Some things should not require one.]

Edran frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Vael placed both hands on his knees.

"My name is not Vale."

Edran waited.

"My name is Vael Zar Astaroth."

The cup slipped from Edran’s hand.

It struck the floor and broke.

No one moved.

The old man’s face went pale.

Then red.

Then empty.

"You."

"Yes."

Edran stood so quickly the chair scraped across the floor.

Vael remained seated.

"My grandfather..."

"Yes."

"My great-aunt."

Vael looked at the floor.

"Elara."

Edran’s breathing changed.

"You know her name?"

"I read every name today."

"That doesn’t give them back."

"No."

Edran stared at him as if trying to reconcile a monster from bedtime stories with a man sitting beneath a shelf of dried rosemary.

"You ordered it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Vael could answer that question perfectly.

He could describe the supply routes, the coalition’s winter reserves, the casualty projections, the risk of encirclement, the intercepted messages proving Ashfield had aided enemy soldiers.

He could explain that the village had been strategically important.

He could explain that human generals had burned demon settlements too.

He could explain that war was ugly.

All of those things were true.

None of them changed the memorial.

"Because I believed winning justified it," Vael said.

Edran’s jaw tightened.

"Did it?"

"No."

"You lost anyway."

"Yes."

Something about that answer made Edran angrier.

"You say that like it’s history."

"It is."

"It was my grandfather’s childhood."

Vael looked up.

"Yes."

The word was quiet.

Edran hit him.

The slap cracked through the room.

Vael’s head turned slightly.

Outside the house, Morrigan would have sensed the impact if she had ignored his command to stay away.

He hoped she had not.

Edran struck him again.

"You think sorry does anything?"

"No."

"You think I forgive you?"

"No."

"You think becoming old makes it better?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

Vael tasted blood.

Because a System told me to apologize would have been unforgivable.

So he ignored the quest window.

"I spent most of my life believing that if I could explain why I did something, I didn’t have to feel what it did to other people."

Edran’s hands trembled.

Vael continued.

"I was wrong."

Silence.

"I ordered Ashfield destroyed. I did not ask who died. I did not care enough to ask."

His voice almost failed on the next words.

Vael had commanded storms.

He had spoken to armies without notes.

Two words were harder.

"I am sorry."

Edran laughed once.

There was no humor in it.

"Sorry."

"Yes."

"My grandfather woke screaming until he was seventy."

Vael closed his eyes.

"I know sorry cannot repair that."

"No, it can’t."

"I know."

"Then stop saying you know."

Vael went quiet.

Edran paced to the window.

"My grandfather said the worst thing about monsters was how easily they slept afterward."

Vael stared at his hands.

"I slept very well."

Edran turned.

Vael forced himself to look at him.

"I gave the order, ate dinner, read reports, and slept through the night."

The room seemed smaller.

"That is what I regret."

Edran’s anger did not vanish.

It changed shape.

"Get out."

Vael stood.

At the door, Edran spoke without turning.

"If you came here expecting forgiveness, don’t come back."

"I didn’t."

"Good."

Vael opened the door.

"Demon King."

He stopped.

Edran’s voice trembled.

"My grandfather survived because a demon soldier pulled him out of the ditch."

Vael looked back.

Edran swallowed.

"He hated you. He never hated all of them."

Vael had no response.

He stepped into the night.

The System appeared beside him.

[QUEST COMPLETE.]

Nothing followed.

No reward.

No age reduction.

No skill.

Vael waited anyway.

The window faded.

For once, the absence felt appropriate.

Morrigan was waiting fifty meters away despite being ordered not to.

She looked at the blood on his lip.

Her eyes became lethal.

"No," Vael said.

"He struck you."

"Yes."

"I can—"

"No."

Morrigan’s fists tightened.

Vael walked past her.

After several steps, she followed.

"My King."

"Not tonight."

She was silent.

Then, softly:

"Vael."

He stopped.

She had almost never used his name.

Morrigan looked away.

"I remember Ashfield too."

Vael waited.

"I burned the eastern storehouse myself."

The sentence settled between them.

For the first time, the regret was not his alone.

They walked back without speaking.