"Ian loves you, Mother."
"And I love you as well. Remember your father's words, and the small counsel from your mother."
"Yes, Mother. Your words will remain with me, just as Father's do."
"… "
He reassured her with a gaze filled with unwavering resolve.
"Mother need not worry. I will not forget any of your teachings, for my own good… and for Sister Charlotte."
"… "
"Ian will watch over Sister Charlotte, so Mother may rest at ease."
That voice…
Touched something deep within Charlotte's heart.
Had those words been spoken in the past, her pride might have stirred, perhaps she would have brushed them aside with laughter or a light retort. Yet now, something different spread quietly within her chest.
A warmth.
Gentle.
Peaceful.
She looked toward her mother. The tears that had once been wiped away by Ian's thumbs returned, falling slowly, dampening the fabric against her back.
The feeling was familiar.
Because she felt it too… each drop of her mother's tears seeping through, passing through cloth to touch the skin beneath.
Her younger brother continued, his voice soft yet resolute.
"So Mother may be at ease. I will protect Sister Charlotte as I would protect myself. I will ensure she remembers Father's and Mother's words."
"… "
"Leave that to me, Mother."
"Very well. I trust you."
Ian gently stroked his mother's back, soothing her, as though trying to take on a role that had long belonged only to their parents.
Time passed unnoticed.
At last, the embrace loosened, and once more he wiped away the lingering traces of his mother's tears.
It is said that the hearts of many sons grow most fragile when they stand beside their mothers.
I am no different.
To see her sorrow, to watch those tears fall… it felt as though every part of the heart I had forged as firmly as stone within the sea was being struck.
Cracking beneath waves of pain.
My gaze shifted toward Father.
A figure who had always appeared strong.
Yet beneath that strength lay a gentleness he had never truly hidden. He often jested, often showed warmth to me, to Sister Charlotte, and to my younger siblings.
That memory returned.
Ten years ago.
It was the first time I had ever seen Father angered.
His expression… the very air around him… all of it had been suffocating.
Impossible to forget.
And yet, strangely…
I had never felt fear.
Because I trusted him.
And Mother had been there.
Calming him, as though she knew with certainty that he would never harm us.
From that moment on…
As I began to think more clearly, shaped by the passing of time…
A desire took root within me.
Strong.
Unyielding.
I wished to become strong.
Strong enough that nothing would ever again drive Father to such anger.
Strong enough to protect Mother, who was so different from the rest of us.
And for Sister Charlotte…
I would protect her.
She was like an unblemished jewel in my eyes.
One day, someone might seek to take advantage of her… to wound a heart that shone as brightly as the autumn sun.
Warm…
Yet never harsh.
That memory remained vivid. The moment Father, without intending to, revealed his fury upon seeing my sister injured, lying helpless.
Years passed, and I came to understand.
My parents…
Were so fragile when it came to us.
Their children.
My steps moved, carried along by the current of those memories, drawing me closer to Father.
I sat beside him.
Near me, Ryan lowered his head, hiding a face dampened by quiet sobs. He did not wish to show it to us.
Embarrassed.
Or perhaps… too honest to reveal.
He was so much like Mother.
Gentle, both outwardly and within, easily moved by emotion.
Unlike Karina.
She carried something from both Father and Mother, yet shaped in her own way. Not like Charlotte, who shone with brightness, Karina was calm, guarding every word that left her lips with a quiet grace befitting nobility, just as Father had once said.
Unlike Ryan, Karina did not hesitate to show her feelings before her family.
Her green eyes, so similar to Mother's and Ryan's, had begun to redden, holding back tears that threatened to fall at any moment.
Father and Mother cherished her deeply.
And we, her elder siblings… did as well.
I smiled at him, offering what little comfort I could.
Then I turned toward Father beside me.
"Father."
His long breath was clearly heard.
As though he already understood my intent, even before I could continue.
Yet this time…
Father's face was different.
The gentleness and warmth he always carried seemed dimmed, replaced by a deep and quiet sorrow.
That expression…
Only appeared when his worry had grown too great.
Like when Mother fell ill.
Or when we, his children, stood in danger.
The face that had never shown weakness now stood plainly before me. His gaze met mine, eyes so alike that it felt as though I were looking into my own reflection, only far more steadfast.
Father's lips curved into a smile that felt forced. He glanced briefly at Mother, then returned his attention to me.
That voice…
Softer than before.
"Speak, Ian."
I fell silent.
The words I had carefully arranged within my mind scattered, like tangled threads that refused to be woven back together. Thoughts that once felt clear turned hazy, unable to form a single complete sentence.
Silence settled over the room.
Only the sound of our breathing filled the space, rising and falling softly, as though touching every corner.
Ryan's quiet sobs became the only note that lingered within that stillness.
I tried once more to gather my words.
To shape them.
To steady them.
Yet it proved far more difficult than I had imagined.
I am sorry.
That alone surfaced.
And even those words felt insufficient. Hollow. Unable to carry the weight of what I truly wished to say.
Father seemed to understand.
He shifted his seat, turning fully toward me. His large hand rose, then rested firmly upon my shoulder. The burden pressing against my chest eased, if only slightly, beneath that touch.
He was my father.
My example.
The foremost protector of our family.
"I understand. You need not force any words."
I gave a small nod, faulting myself for not being able to express my heart as easily as I had with Mother.
"I do not expect an apology from you, as you offered to your mother."
"… "
"You are correct. The responsibility for a child's mistakes and mischief lies within the child. However…"
Father paused.
His gaze shifted to Mother, then to Sister Charlotte, before moving toward Ryan and Karina at my side.
We all remained still.
Listening.
Waiting.
Then he continued.
"It is the parents who guide and raise that child. Your mother and I bear the greater responsibility to lead you toward the path we believe to be right."
"Your mistakes, your mischief, before you reach maturity… those are our responsibility. Your mother and I raised you with love and care."
"Your early life, from the moment you first drew breath within this home, all of it began with us. We cared for you when you were unable to do anything on your own."
"We taught you how to speak, how to read and write."
"And we introduced you to the things you had never seen nor heard before, until you began to understand them."
"And then, one day… when your minds began to grow, when you became able to grasp our teachings, that was when we taught you to discern between light and darkness."
Father paused once more.
His eyes closed briefly, then opened again, looking upon all of us with a depth that could not be hidden.
"My children… you came into this world like blank canvases, pure and without stain. Your ignorance, your incomplete understanding of the world, is not a burden you must carry."
"It is your mother and I who carry that responsibility. We fill your minds with what we know, we give you examples so you may see, observe, and understand, until one day you are able to think and judge for yourselves."
"If you err… it remains our responsibility. For we were the first to teach you many things, when you were still untouched, unmarked by the world."
Father drew a long, steady breath.
Deep.
Heavy.
As though every word he spoke carried the weight he had borne alone for so long.
"Thank you for your words… for honoring your father and mother. For without hesitation, you sought to take that responsibility upon yourselves."
"There is no parent who would not be moved… none who would not feel joy… when the children they love try to comfort them, and choose to carry their own burdens."
His hand came to rest upon my shoulder once more.
This time, deeper.
Warmer.
As though melting away the remnants of the weight still clinging to me.
"Let every mistake you have ever made… remain our responsibility."
"Because we are your parents."
His gaze swept across all of us again.
More resolute.
Filled with quiet conviction.
"Charlotte, Ian, Ryan, Karina."
"Whatever you have done… in our eyes, it is not a mistake. Your mischief is not something to be condemned, but a part of the story that completes the life your mother and I have lived."
"It is we who should ask forgiveness of you."
"Not from you, who came to us in innocence, but from us, who raised you and filled that innocence with understanding."
"Much of what you know… comes from us, before the world beyond and your companions came to color your lives."
Father fell silent for a moment.
His gaze turned toward Mother, gentle, accompanied by a warm yet fragile smile. Then something heavier surfaced upon his face—a burden long held, now slowly rising into the open.
"I and Irene… as the parents who have walked beside your lives."
His gaze shifted.
Toward Sister Charlotte.
"Charlotte… your mother and I ask your forgiveness."
"No, Father."
The answer came swiftly, almost without pause. Tears had already begun to fall from her eyes from the moment Father's words began.
Yet Father slowly shook his head.
As though refusing to take back what had been spoken.
His gaze moved to me.
"Ian… your mother and I ask your forgiveness."
"Father…"
My lips parted, yet the words I wished to speak found no path to escape.
Then to Ryan.
"Ryan… your mother and I ask your forgiveness."
A broken sob.
Ryan lowered his head deeply, his face hidden behind both hands. His cries escaped freely, no longer held back.
And finally…
Father looked toward our youngest.
His smile returned, softer, filled with tenderness.
"Karina, my dear… your mother and I ask your forgiveness."
Karina looked at Father.
And in that instant, her tears fell without restraint.
At only seven years of age, she understood emotions far deeper than she should have.
She stepped down from her chair.
Her small steps carried her toward Father, climbing into his lap as she wept against the chest that had always been her safest place.
The sight stirred something profound.
Mother, seated across from them, could no longer remain still. She rose, approached, and sat beside Father. Gently, she gathered Karina into her arms, holding her close.
Within that embrace, Karina's sobs slowly softened, though her tears still dampened her mother's dress.
Father reached out and took Mother's hand.
Their gazes rested upon all of us.
But before Father could continue…
Charlotte rose.
She stepped forward.
And stopped right before Father and Mother.
Father fell silent.
Mother was briefly startled, yet she soon returned to soothing Karina within her embrace.
Charlotte's thoughts churned, weaving word after word, searching for the right way to give voice to what pressed against her heart.
Then…
I looked at Father and Mother.
With reverence.
With emotions I could no longer restrain.
I am grateful…
That you are my parents.
Slowly, I lowered myself to my knees before them.
Father was taken aback.
Mother even more so. Her hand, which had been gently stroking Karina's back, came to a halt.
My siblings fell into silence.
I cast them a brief glance, seated upon the long wooden bench lined with soft fur along its back and seat.
Then my hands came to rest upon Father's, which still held Mother's.
I steadied my resolve.
Even as my breath faltered, broken by sobs that refused to cease.
"Father… Mother…"
"I forgive every fault you have ever made… even those not yet committed…"
"In the past, in the present, and in the future yet to come."
"In the next life… if such a thing exists… and in the sacred heavens, when we are brought together again beneath divine light…"
"Wherever that may be… my heart will always forgive you."
My sobs…
My tears fell without end, soaking my gown before trailing down to the cold stone floor beneath me.
And then—
What I feared came.
A hiccup broke through.
My cheeks burned, my tears flowing even more freely. My eyelids grew heavy, swollen from the flood that would not stop.
Yet…
I continued.
Allowing the hiccups to remain.
"Because of that…"
A hiccup.
"Father… Mother…"
I looked at them.
Both of their faces were wet with tears.
Father, especially.
It was difficult to describe how deeply it shook me to see him like that. On one side, there was a warm happiness blooming within my chest—seeing those tears fall from the depth of his love for me.
But on the other…
There was pain.
Because I was the one who made them cry.
My words continued.
Broken by breath.
"I am your first child… your first daughter… Charlotte Wieser."
"I am sorry… for everything."
"I am sorry, Father…"
A trembling breath.
"I am sorry, Mother…"
My head lowered once more.
As though every emotion within me had collapsed alongside those words.
Nothing remained for me to hold back.