"Mother, I'm home." Asbel called into the vast hallway, hoping to hear his mother's brisk reply. After a second attempt he soon heard her from within the kitchen though her voice seemed uneven in tone. He placed his bag atop the hanger by the door along with his blazer, removing his shoes before he set to joining her. Pushing open the heavy oak door he found her sat at the small circle table in the corner of their modern kitchenette, a hand placed against her mouth to hide her shivering lips. He could tell instantly that she had been crying earlier; her eyes appeared swollen whilst her gaze held a glass like quality. She clenched a tissue in her free hand as she stared towards an unopened letter against the table. It was crumpled, as if when she had picked it up she had tossed it away in anger or disgust. However, judging by her trembling hands she had most likely snatched the letter from whoever had handed it to her out of desperation.
Asbel's eyes traced the black calligraphy against the envelopes white surface, each letter carefully crafted. It was definitely Hubert's. Steadily he reached over and took the letter, his mother's eyes never leaving his.
"It's from Hubert." He breathed although she already knew it was from her recently estranged son. He carefully broke the seal, sliding out the parchment slowly. It had been years since Hubert last wrote home and Asbel could only dread the reason for the arrival of his letter so suddenly. Taking a deep breathe he began to read the letter aloud, "Asbel, some time has passed since I last replied. I have only just recived your latest letter," Asbel paused, his last letter had been written over two years ago, "I am doing well. The Oswell name has served me well and I have now enrolled in a private military institute. This will be my final letter."
Puzzled by his brother's formality Asbel felt it would not be wise to continue reading the letter in front of his mother so with a slight bow of the head he quickly made his way towards his room. His stomach knotted at the thought of leaving his mother alone, however, in her current state, reading the remainder of the letter's contents would only upset her more.
Finally in his room he hastily closed the door, pulling along the heavy lock as he did so. With his back against the oak door for support her continued to read his brother's words silently to himself. What Hubert imparted to him was nothing more the emotionless statements, something one would read when receiving a business proposal from a colleague and not at all how a brother should write home. Taken back by the sudden distance he felt towards his younger brother Asbel could only muster a slight murmur of words, "Military institute…last letter…cutting ties…" Ultimately he was left devoid of feeling as a cold numbness took over his body, originating from his chest and slipping along to the rest of his limbs until he was forced to drop the letter.
Frantically he scanned the room, searching for a pen and paper. He would write one last letter to Hubert demanding answers. He at least deserved to know why Hubert was insistent on severing all connections to the Lhant family. He could only think of his mother; how would she react? Shaking his head furiously he decided that it would be best not to relay any of this to her. He would conjure up plausible excuse, a white lie to spare his mother the heartbreak Hubert had sent in a delayed crumpled envelope.
Not caring that his writing was beyond legible he scribbled down his frustration in a series of wild sentences. Throughout he questioned his brother's logic, asked why, and demanded that he reply to this final letter. Nevertheless, as he signed his name to conclude his piece he felt his anger dissipate, leaving only sadness. He took the letter, folded it two or three times before placing it under the mountain of books piled atop his desk. There he would never come across it again and hopefully forget all about it. If this was to be Hubert's final letter what use would there be sending one of his own, he would never hear from his brother again.
Hours passed by as Asbel lay staring up towards the ceiling of his room. His bed was cold and offered little comfort but at least he wasn't standing; his legs had almost given way on multiple occasions since reading his brother's parting words. From below he heard his mother call out to him. Not wanting to ignore her or leave her alone any longer he slowly moved to an upright position before making his way downstairs. The light of the hallway burned his eyes, causing him to flinch. He had been sat in complete darkness for some time, wishing to remain detached from reality. It was his way of healing the wounds that had been inflicted.
In the kitchen his mother had prepared a small meal consisting of a light broth with thinly cut slices of bread and fresh water. Fredrick stood to the side, ready to clear the table when the two had finished.
"You were in your room for some time, Asbel. Is-is everything alright? How is Hubert?"
He feared his mother would ask; despite all the time he had spent upstairs he had been unable to conceive any real excuse. He bit his lip and thought desperately for something to say.
"Hubert is fine. He's in a new school and has lots of work to do." He muttered, praying she did not suspect anything.
Afterwards the two continued to eat in silence, only the occasional scraping of cutlery and stifled coughs was heard from within the dining room. To alleviate them of the awkward tension Fredrick politely intervened, "Master Asbel, will you be attending the festival next Saturday?" At first Asbel didn't quite understand but shortly after he remembered Cheria saying something about the upcoming Summer Festival. He replied with a half-smile and continued to eat his prepared meal.
"Lady Kerri?" Fredrick expected as much when she declined the offer and apologised thereafter, not realising his grave mistake. Since Asbel's father had passed away some time ago his mother had refused to participate in any activities she may have done alongside him during his lifetime, all except tending the small flower garden outside their comfortable home. Part of Asbel ached, he wished she could enjoy her life but knew she would never be able to forget the pain of losing her husband. He wondered if he should try to convince her although a stern but sympathetic gaze from Fredrick caused him to remain silent until the end of the meal.
Before leaving to return to his room he heard his mother make a small remark; it had been some time since they last ate together. He could only agree. Regardless he ascended the stairs and made for his room. Inside it was as dark if not darker than before. The moon which had been visible moments before had now been washed away by a sea of silver clouds and the lights which lined the streets only reached as far as the bay window that looked out onto the Lhant garden. Asbel had never felt so alone in the world. As he fell to his bed and curled in on himself the image of Richard sat alone in that dark library appeared behind Asbel's closed eyes.