After the door closed. Orn looked to see his father watching the closed door with a pained expression. “Father?...”

“Someday Orn ...” His father replied not realizing what Orn already suspected. Slowly turning his attention from the closed door, he ruffled Orn’s hair.

“Father I …” Orn started but found himself at a loss for words. Did she blame herself my weakness? For my injuries? Orn shivered at the thought and looked to the door she had walked through.

“Your mother just needs a time. She has … there is a lot that happened. So, she probably wants a bit of time.” His father patted him on the back, then smiled softly. “Our breakfast is getting cold. Tell me how this blessing works and leave nothing out.”

Orn spent the rest of the day with his father. They talked about what skills knights had and what Orn thought he would need to learn. He asked after his mother a few times, but his father or Olivia just smiled and said she was fine.

[Orn’s mother’s POV]

Orn’s words that morning had brought back a flood of memories. She had never thought what she did was wrong, but everyone who found out that her path was “Mother” instead of “Healer” looked at her with disgust. Many even hurled abuse at her. The priests were the worst. Then Orn was born, and it was as if everything they said was made real.

When I realized how fragile he was. She shook as she remembered the emotions that hit her at that time. My Orn was always getting hurt; always on the brink of death.

The priests never failed to remind her of how she deviated from the path of “Mother”. To them it was only just that she would be punished, as a mother and a healer. She knew it was a lie, but every time Orn got hurt some part of her would whisper, You did this…

She thought back to the first time he broke a bone, when she cried herself to sleep. She spent every waking moment trying to rush his recovery. Her husband kept trying to tell her it was not her fault, but it did not matter. Her baby was hurt! She thought back to how she had railed at him while he tried to get her to take even the most basic care of herself. Thinking back on those times, how did he managed to keep it together? With Orn hurt and me ready to kill myself to help him recover.

She pushed the thoughts aside, it was not a punishment from the goddesses. It was not my fault. She kept thinking about Orn’s words. It does not matter what the goddesses think. Just hearing him say I am “amazing,” or “thank you” is…

She stopped in the hall and whipped at the tears that were trying to form again. Once she felt she was not going to start crying again she started moving. It was not far to her destination, and she could probably make the trip blindfolded. Down the hall and up the stairs, first door on the left.

She took a deep breath, and slowly opened the chapel door. She knew from experience she was not likely to be disturbed. She did not need to bother with a candle in the windowless room. Instead practiced steps, brought her to the end of the isle and she knelt on the cloth where Orn had the day before.

The act was so familiar, but her purpose had changed making it feel somehow alien. She had spent so many nights here praying that Orn would recover from his latest injury. Praying for forgiveness, that she be punished instead …

Today was different. Orn was stronger, healthy even. She could see the difference in the way he left his bedroom compared to how he left the chapel. This morning he made it to breakfast without help! She had seen him walking with Olivia and trailed along behind. It was as if she was watching him take his first steps all over again.

He even opened that dumb door. She smiled at the thought.

Bowing deeply, she began to pray, “Thank you. I do not know which goddess you are but thank you. Goddess of Will, thank you for everything you...”