Chapter 106 : The Veil of Ashes

❖ 𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 𝟷𝟶𝟼 ❖

⟡ The Veil of Ashes ⟡

❝Some truths are buried not to be forgotten, but to protect what remains of the living.❞

✦✦✦

By combining the old woman’s words, Porche Max’s venomous ridicule, and the villagers’ tense reactions, a single chilling conclusion began to surface:

My mother… Candice Prim… was a Herzburg alchemist.

But in a breathless twist of fate, that conclusion unraveled before it could even settle in my heart.

“No,” the old woman said, her hand tightening around the doorknob. “Candice was not an alchemist.”

“What?” My voice faltered. “Then the research list—”

She dropped her gaze, a heavy silence falling as her shoulders bowed beneath some invisible weight. When she finally looked up again, her eyes were clouded with the ache of long-buried memories.

“Candice wasn’t the alchemist,” she repeated softly. “That much is certain.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not only alchemists lived here,” she said. “There were chemists too. Different methods, perhaps—but the same dangerous curiosity.”

Then, without another word, she pushed open the heavy door. Hinges screamed in protest, and a gust of wind scattered the pale dust into the air like the remnants of forgotten time.

I followed her inside. The scent of old wood and time-worn parchment wrapped around me like a cloak. The air felt thick with silence.

“These are the remnants,” she whispered. “The royal family left these behind, not because of mercy… but as a cruel reminder. They wanted us to see what foolishness alchemy was—to reflect on how much of the treasury was wasted on dreams they deemed illusions. Your mother studied here, side by side with an alchemist. But she herself… was a chemist.”

Her withered hands brushed over the yellowing papers with reverence, as though the pages held pieces of souls.

“This is where Candice’s work lives on.”

She pointed to a modest shelf at the far end of the room. “The royal investigators were too exhausted by the massacre. They came late, and only wanted to confirm there were no survivors hiding. They barely skimmed the documents. That is how her research remained… intact. I cannot tell you how grateful I am.”

I nodded slowly, barely able to process the weight of her words.

“Your mother—Candice Prim—was one of the developers of smokeless gunpowder.”

The world around me tilted.

That discovery—smokeless gunpowder—was what had ignited the flames of war. The Docilian royal family had clung to that creation like a divine weapon, confident it would allow them to conquer all.

My throat tightened.

“Then… my mother conducted her research here, to serve the royal family’s ambition?”

“No,” the woman said. “Candice was not from Herzburg. She arrived one day, unannounced, with your father. She only happened to be a chemist. That was how she found kinship with us.”

Then came a truth that struck like thunder.

“When the royal family attempted to weaponize her research,” the woman said, “Candice stood against them. She believed gunpowder should not be used to slaughter innocents. She refused to support the war.”

I bit down on my lip, the taste of blood grounding me in this spinning storm of revelations.

“I never knew… she was a chemist.”

“I suppose Isaac thought it best not to burden you with the past. It was a tragic tale. All her colleagues agreed to the royal family’s demands. But she—only she—said no.”

I looked to the bookshelf, now transformed into a shrine of defiance and grief.

“Since even one inventor’s refusal could block the project, the royal family began circling her like vultures. But they couldn’t kill her openly. That would draw suspicion.”

“Then…” I whispered, “they accused her of being an alchemist?”

The woman nodded, her voice brittle.

“They found a fault—real or fabricated. The king, already disillusioned with alchemy, lumped her in with them. She was executed. Her blood washed away their shame.”

I laughed bitterly, a sound as hollow as the truth.

“They said she died giving birth to me…”

“That’s what Isaac told us. That was the story when they left. He swore to raise you far from this madness.”

I finally understood. He’d wanted to protect me. He didn’t want me to grow under the shadow of guilt and betrayal. But by giving me the key… he knew I would one day uncover it all.

“Isaac hoped you’d never learn. But the key meant he accepted that someday… you must.”

I could barely speak. My thoughts raced faster than my breath. Perhaps… perhaps even Isaac had been involved with Duke Schultz, not for power—but for love. For revenge. For Candice.

Was that why Johannes now stands against the royal family, no matter the cost? Is this the real reason behind everything?

My gaze fell to the dusty documents again. I felt an invisible chain wrap tighter around my connection to Johannes.

I could not… would not… divorce him now.

The old woman whispered, almost to herself, “We had no power…”

Tears rimmed her eyes, her voice heavy with ghosts.

“I can’t stay here any longer. Look around, Edith. Take your time.”

And with that, she left.

✦✦✦

I stood alone before my mother’s shelf. Her memories—her war—her quiet resistance—lived here, waiting to be uncovered.

I felt no warmth toward her. No vivid memories. But the image of a woman standing alone against the crown… stirred something within me.

As I sifted through papers, one firm sheet brushed against my fingertips. I pulled it free, curiosity tightening in my chest.

‘What is this…?’

I carefully unfolded the page, setting the stack aside. My eyes widened.

It was a marriage certificate. One I had never seen before.

Candice Russell… and Max Russell.

My breath caught.

“Max Russell…?”

That’s not my father’s name.

The paper trembled in my hand as a new storm of questions gathered.

❝Even among ashes, secrets breathe. Even in silence, truth speaks.❞