Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 117: Old fable tale?

Chapter 117: Chapter 117: Old fable tale?

Soon, The old woman’s laughter turned into gasping sobs. Her frail body trembled violently before she suddenly slumped forward. Losing her conscious completely.

Cassian moved instantly, catching her before she could hit the floor. He carefully lifted her and placed her onto her small bed. Her breath was very shallow, that made Cassian knit his brows in worry.

He kneeled down in front of her bed and gently place his hands on her wrist, trying to gauge her nerves. Then he sigh in relief as nothing was wrong. The women was probably very weak and needed rest and all the emotions had taken troll on her frail body.

He covered her with a thin blanket, his gaze lingering on her sunken face. This woman had nothing left but the pain of her past, yet she had given them a warning—one that could not be ignored.

Before leaving, Cassian reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of gold coins. He set them down gently beside her bed. She did not have much time left, and while he could not change her fate, he could at least ensure she lived her final days in some comfort.

As they stepped outside, the air felt heavier. Keren and Morren followed closely behind, along with the two trainees. Today, their group had been split into two groups today, one theirs and other with the—Oronik, Alistair, and the remaining trainees—on a different part of city.

As they walked out from the cramped home, No one spoke. The woman’s words still lingered in their minds, they have a storm of thoughts they needed time to sort through.

But their silence was soon broken by a cheerful voice.

"Are you a real knight?"

A teenage boy ran up to them, his wide eyes filled with excitement. His face was dirty, and his clothes were worn, but his enthusiasm was undimmed.

Cassian was momentarily taken aback. The contrast between the grim conversation they had just left behind and the child’s innocence was jarring. He was very disturbed but forced a small smile for the children, he couldn’t bear to dampen the cheerfulness of a child.

"Something like that," he said and nodded.

The boy grinned. "I knew it! You look like one! You have a real sword, too!".

" Yeah! Do you want to touch it. "Cassian gently asked the boy.

" Can I, the boy looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Sure."

Cassian said and kneel in font of him, placing hi sword tip on the ground and motioned the child to try.

"Wow! It’s so shiny."

"Be careful, it’s very sharp".

Hmm! The boy nooded and touch the sword again.

Cassian suddenly thought something and decided to confirm it with the child. This child lived here. Perhaps he knew more than he realized.

So he asked, "How long has the old woman been living in this village?"

The boy tilted his head. "A long time. Since before I was born."

Cassian’s eyes narrowed slightly. That confirmed that she had lived here for years, but it did not explain why she knew so much.

The boy then laughed. "Did she tell you her story again?"

Cassian stiffened.

"Don’t worry," the boy continued, waving a hand. "She loves telling stories. Every child in the village has heard that one before."

A strange feeling settled in Cassian’s chest. If the story was something she told to everyone, did that mean it was just a tale passed down over the years? Or was there truth hidden within her words?

Cassian’s grip on his sword tightened slightly as he processed the boy’s words.

She loves telling stories.

Every child in the village has heard that one before.

The weight of the old woman’s grief still clung to him, yet this child spoke of her tale as if it were no more than an old fable. That contradiction unsettled him. If she had truly suffered such a tragic fate, why would she repeat it so easily, over and over, to anyone willing to listen?

Was she simply a broken soul, clinging to memories? Or was there something else?

Cassian glanced at Keren and Morren.

Keren’s lips were pressed into a tight line, his brows drawn together in deep thought. He clearly found this just as suspicious.

Morren, on the other hand, looked visibly disturbed. He kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if uneasy. "That doesn’t make sense," he muttered, keeping his voice low. "You both felt it too, right? That wasn’t just a story. The way she spoke, the way she—" He hesitated before finishing. "It felt real."

Cassian nodded, his gaze returning to the boy, who was still admiring his sword, oblivious to their conversation.

"Keren," Cassian said quietly, "what do you think?"

Keren didn’t answer right away. He looked toward the old woman’s house, his expression unreadable.

"She could be telling the truth," he admitted. "Or she could be a distraction. A way to throw us off."

Cassian had considered that possibility too.

They had spent weeks searching for answers in Galdreth, but this woman had given them more information in one conversation than they had uncovered in all that time.

And that, in itself, was suspicious.

"Maybe someone wants us to focus on the temple," Keren continued, crossing his arms. "Maybe they want us chasing ghosts while they move in the shadows."

Morren frowned. "Or maybe she’s just an old woman who lost everything and wants people to know the truth before she dies."

Silence fell between them.

Cassian exhaled, his fingers brushing over the hilt of his sword.

There was no way to be certain yet.

But one thing was clear—whether the woman was a victim of tragedy or a pawn in someone else’s game, her story was tied to Galdreth’s secrets.

And that meant they could not ignore it.

Straightening, Cassian turned back to the boy.

"Has she ever said anything else?" he asked. "Something different?"

The boy scrunched his nose in thought. "Hmm... not really. She always talks about her husband and the cave. Oh! But sometimes, when she thinks no one is listening, she talks to herself. She says weird things, like how no one will survive. That everyone is just a sacrifice."

Cassian’s jaw tightened.

That matched what she had said before collapsing.

Keren and Morren exchanged glances.

"She said something like that earlier," Morren murmured. "That no one would survive. That ’he’ was luring people here."

Cassian looked at the boy. "Did she ever say who ’he’ is?"

The boy shook his head. "Nope. Just ’him.’ Sometimes she looks really scared when she says it, though. Like she knows something terrible but can’t say it out loud."

Cassian felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

Who was "he"?

And why was the old woman so certain that no one would survive?

He clenched his fists. They were running out of time. If someone truly was behind all of this—if they were being lured into something—they needed to find out before it was too late.

Cassian took a step back, placing a hand on the boy’s head. "Thank you," he said. "You’ve been very helpful."

The boy beamed. "Does that mean I can be a knight too?"

Cassian gave him a small smile. "Maybe one day."

With that, he turned to Keren and Morren.

"We need to find Oronik and Alistair. Now."

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