Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 109: Promise

Chapter 109: Promise

The towering structures of the church of Elaris rise around me, their spires entwined with the sprawling branches of the colossal sacred tree. This is the largest temple dedicated to Elaris in the entire kingdom, an awe-inspiring place that feels steeped in an ancient, almost forgotten reverence. I step off the carriage, my boots crunching softly on the gravel path, and then turn to help Noelle down. His hand slips into mine, and despite the familiarity of the gesture, the softness of his touch still sends warmth through me.

We are greeted by a priestess as soon as we step inside, her light green robes flowing slightly in the light wind. I had sent word ahead, ensuring our arrival would not be met with delay. As we walk through the halls, I’m struck by the absence of statues, save for the trees that are meant to represent Elaris. There are no golden idols here, no grand depictions of divinity. It’s a stark contrast to the other temples across the kingdom—like that of the biggest and popular deity Sun God, where towering statues depict him in all his wrath and glory, a god of war and victory. A god worshipped by men like me, or so they say.

I’ve never corrected the assumption that I, Thorne, the Crimson General, am a devout follower of the Sun God. Frankly, it’s too much of a bother, and what would people say if they knew? Not that I care.

Noelle walks beside me, as we’re led to the entrance of the temple’s inner sanctum. Ahead lies the sacred tree itself, a towering behemoth of wood and leaves, its presence filling the air with a sense of the divine. The earth beneath my feet feels different here—softer, warmer, alive. The grass and flowers seem to shimmer with life, as if Elaris herself is watching over them, keeping them pristine and untouched by the passing of time.

The priestess gestures for me to remove my shoes, and I do so without hesitation, feeling the cool earth beneath my soles. Noelle steps forward, intending to do the same, but the priestess raises a hand to stop him. "Only one person at a time," she says, her voice firm but gentle.

Noelle gives me a small nod, stepping back, motioning for me to go on. I take a deep breath and begin to walk toward the tree. The closer I get, the heavier the air feels—not oppressive, but charged, as if the very ground is aware of my presence. There’s a weight to each step, not just the physical sensation of walking barefoot, but a sense of being scrutinized, measured.

**

Noelle stood quietly, watching Thorne as he knelt humbly beneath the massive tree. Despite Thorne’s imposing nature and his reputation as the Crimson General, the sight of him in reverence was endearing—almost charming in its contrast. Noelle had assumed Thorne would have been a staunch believer in the Sun God, but he never asked much about his husband’s faith. As for himself, religion wasn’t something that had ever really stuck. The closest thing he had to a deity was Elaris, and even then, it was more out of a passing respect inherited from his mother, Elena, who hadn’t been devout either.

"Clearly, he kept his promise," a voice interrupted his thoughts. Noelle turned, startled, to see a familiar figure standing beside him.

"Bishop Grace?" Noelle blinked in surprise, recognizing the older woman in the deep green robes. She was the very same who had officiated their marriage. Noelle quickly bowed in respect.

"Please, don’t," Bishop Grace chuckled, waving off the gesture. Noelle straightened, offering a sheepish smile as she glanced toward Thorne, still kneeling under the tree in quiet contemplation.

"It’s always a funny sight, isn’t it?" she said with a bemused smile, gesturing toward the general. Noelle couldn’t help but glance curiously at the bishop, sensing there was more to her words.

"Walk with me," Bishop Grace offered, extending her hand. Noelle took it, allowing himself to be led away from the tree and away from Thorne’s quiet moment of reflection.

As they strolled through the garden, the gentle rustle of leaves filled the comfortable silence. "He’s treating you well, right? You know you can tell me if anything’s wrong. No matter what, even Thorne wouldn’t be able to find you if it came to that." There was a flicker of seriousness in her voice, a protective undertone.

Noelle let out a soft laugh. "Don’t worry, if it were up to Thorne, I wouldn’t even be allowed to step on gravel. He’s been... attentive, to say the least." There was warmth in his voice, a fondness that shone through.

"That’s good," Bishop Grace nodded approvingly. "But remember, should anything ever happen, you can always come to me or any church of Elaris. Don’t hesitate."

"I won’t," Noelle promised, sensing the genuine concern behind her words.

They continued walking for a few more moments before Bishop Grace spoke again. "You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Thorne wouldn’t die alone."

Noelle’s steps faltered slightly as he turned to look at her, curiosity piqued.

"I was stationed at the kingdom’s border in my early years, from my thirties to my fifties," she began, her voice quiet and thoughtful. "I met him when I was nearing fifty. He was just a boy back then, barely more than a teenager, skinny and covered in blood. A child with no business being on the battlefield."

She paused, her eyes growing distant as she recalled the memory. "He was sitting there, surrounded by cold corpses, covered in wounds. His eyes... they were empty. It broke my heart to see a child so hollow, so lost. He wasn’t living—just surviving, putting up walls so thick and high around himself that no one could reach him."

Noelle felt a pang in his chest, picturing the broken boy she described. It was hard to reconcile that image with the strong, unyielding man he had come to know and love.

"I watched him grow into the man everyone fears today. But those walls never came down. Not even his comrades could get close to him. He was always alone, always distant."

She sighed, shaking her head. "After he left the battlefield, I thought that was it. We lost contact. The only thing I received from him were large sums of money, enough to help with my promotions. But I had no idea where he was or what had happened to him. Three years passed, and then, out of nowhere, I get a letter asking me to officiate his wedding. I was stunned—disbelieving, even."

Noelle smiled at the memory of their wedding.

"Honestly, I was skeptical at first," Bishop Grace continued, "until I saw the designs for your wedding collar. When he explained the meanings behind them, I was shocked. It was as if the man I thought would never open up had poured his entire heart into this one gesture. I couldn’t believe it—he had fallen in love."

Noelle blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her words.

"And when you both arrived, I could see it clearly. The way he looked at you, the way you looked at him. It was something I never thought possible for him. He truly believed no one would ever love him—not really. But you... against all odds, you do."

Her voice softened, and Noelle felt his eyes welling up with emotion. He had never realized just how deeply Thorne’s isolation had run.

"You love him with everything you have," Bishop Grace said, her voice gentle but firm. "It’s obvious to anyone who looks at you. Personally, I think you deserve someone who would pluck the stars from the sky for you. But for that boy I watched grow up on the battlefield... I think he deserves this much. He deserves someone like you."

Noelle swallowed hard, blinking away tears. He felt the weight of her words, the significance of her approval.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Bishop Grace gave him a warm, motherly smile. "Don’t be like your husband and forget to send me letters. And please, don’t deny me grandchildren. I deserve that much, don’t I?"

Noelle let out a soft laugh, nodding. "You can count on me. I’ll write, and as for grandchildren, I can’t make any promises."

Bishop Grace chuckled, patting his hand. "That’s all I ask, my dear."