Tirsday, 21st of Juno, 470th Year of the Fifth Era

Timotheos and his father continued to argue back and forth between each other. Neither of the two seemed to budge and each were set in their ways. Perhaps if someone were to look at it from the outside, the two were truly father and son with how their personalities clashed with one another. Neither side wanted to give in.

"I refuse to be shamed when I stand on the principle that no being, deity or otherwise, that demands the unlawful sacrifice of souls is worthy of worship!" Timotheus stated as he stomped his feet. "And if you think that whatever end justifies the means of such an outrageous proposal, then I suggest we end this useless debate now."

"I wasn't even here for a debate, you bastard!" His father had shouted toward him in frustration, his eyes widened and face flushed with rage. "I came here to at least try and make some sort of amends with you! But each time, I am rebuffed! Each time I extend my hand towards you, you spit on it! How am I supposed to act with you?! You claim to be an adherent of your faith, yet you so conveniently skip the passages in regards to honouring your parents! Your father especially!"

Timotheus wanted to immediately strike back at his father's rage, but he couldn't find a good argument. His father was indeed right. No matter what, he didn't have justification for such wanton hostility. But he couldn't help himself. With anyone else, Timotheus was perhaps able to exercise a modicum of patience and self control. But when it came to his father, his heart and mind would just devolve into a gamut of storm-like emotions.

His father continued to lay his own arguments and objections towards him.

"You show me all this hostility! Treat me like I'm not your own father! Insult your mother as a so-called jezebel! Some 'son' you are! In fact, I think in this case we are in agreement. I am not your father, because I never remembered my wife giving birth and raising a bastard dog like you as a son! But even if I did have a son like you, perhaps it would've saved me all this heartache IF YOU HAD NEVER BEEN BORN IN THE FIRST PLACE! A rebellious son like you is only a curse to me at the end of the day!"

Timotheus didn't know why, but that statement from his father truly hurt him inside. He had expected he was strong enough to receive whatever he dished out to his father, but this. This one cut deep into him. Timotheus was stunned into silence for a bit. His father's rage was still visible from his intense breathing.

"A rebellious son, eh?" Timo scoffed as he gave a wry smile in rebellion towards his father. If that's what he was then so be it. He challenged his father's authority, staring directly into his eyes. "You would begrudge me for being the very thing grandfather accuses you of?"

"Don't you dare make that comparison!" It had seemed he had struck a nerve within his father. "What he one-sidedly did to me, tearing my children away from me, exiling me from my home! What have I ever done to you that comes close to that?! Tell me what?! Did I tell you to leave your church and stop worshipping your god? No! Did I say you must now start sacrificing humans and eating people?! NO!! So tell me again, Timo, In what part do you think the two things are comparable?!! IN WHAT PART?!!"

"YOU BETRAYED ME!! That's what makes it hurt so much!" Timotheus finally screamed with great frustration. He was no longer in control of his own feelings as tears appeared from his eyes.

His father was flabbergasted for a while when he saw him scream and shout like that. Only for a while before he shouted, "What the hell are you saying?!"

"You betrayed me! You are not the same father I knew to have raised me! You're not the man who taught me to learn my hymns everyday! You're not the man who taught me to write and memorise scripture! You are not the man who so painstakingly convinced the Ephorus to give me an education, to learn all those fanciful western philosophies…!"

Timotheus' tears flowed freely as he even felt his eyes hurting. He wiped the snot from his nose as he tried to regain himself. "Where did my father go? Where is the man who would discuss with me about matters of theology every night…? Where is…"

"...That man is dead… Killed by the false hope and lies that had been fed to him." Partogi spat out, his hands clutching into fists as they shook. "There's no use looking for him anymore."

Timotheus covered his face with both his hands before finally wiping it, and regaining himself. His eyes still red and his face moist, he stood up straight as he faced his father. "If that is so, then I'm afraid there's nothing else to be talked about here… Then I am not your son, and you are not my father…"

"Then it is so…" His father, no, this stranger nodded as he cast his gaze away from him.

"And I do not know you." Timotheus continued, closing his eyes in a futile effort to stop his tears from escaping again. "And you do not know me."

The man who was his father did not say anything else, only standing there stoically, his arms behind his back. Timotheus just stood there, gazing at his back.

His mind returned to the time he was only ten or eleven years old. Everyday he ran along this very river with his father as he trained his physicality. His father had tried training him in the ways of being a warrior, but it was discovered soon that his control of his mana suited him more as a mage rather than an aura warrior.

But despite that, his father hadn't been disappointed. On the contrary, he told him how happy he was to have such a talented son. He told him that he would be the greatest mage the realm had known. Even when he was given to old Ompung Ester for training, his father was almost always there every step of the way. Guiding him, encouraging him, making him feel like it was all worth it.

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But that's all changed now. That man – as he said himself – was long dead. What stood before him now was no better than a stranger. In fact, it was even worse for Timotheus. At least he could ignore the life of a stranger. Looking at his father now, all he could think of is hurt, betrayal, sadness.

The two men stood there like that for a while longer. Neither of them said anything more to each other. Timotheus only let his tears slide down his cheeks silently. Finally, he spoke once more.

"...I will be taking my leave. There is no longer a bond between us. I now stand on my own." Timotheus said, resolution clear in his voice. "I shall honour my oath to my bapatua (uncle) and trouble you no further for the remainder of your stay here. I shall content myself to carry out my duty tomorrow both as a priest and as a member of the Sigumogo clan… I would say good night, but I would be lying."

With that, Timotheus had turned around and left the man standing there. He no longer wanted to hurt himself being in his presence. Hopefully once these wedding celebrations were concluded, he would never have to see that man's face ever again.

***

Partogi just stood there by the banks of the river. His body was present but it felt like his being and soul wasn't there. He stared blankly at the moon and stars before finally sitting himself down on a rock by the riverside.

Partogi folded his hands and placed them on his lap as he then shifted his view towards the flowing waters of the river. That night was particularly quiet. That was a lie. The night wasn't quiet at all, but Partogi's mind was so cluttered, the sounds of the river water flowing, the crickets chirping, and all manner of things didn't reach into his ears.

His vision grew blurry before he finally let out his tears freely, no longer caring if anyone were even there to see. There were so many times he wanted to break in front of Timotheus, to just let it all out. But alas, his pride did not allow him to do that.

Now that he thought he was alone, Partogi had curled up. He sat upon the rock and sobbed his heart out into his legs. He had turned his gaze away from Timotheus as his son was crying for the sole purpose that he couldn't bear seeing his children cry. Not especially if he was the one who caused them to act in such a way.

It hurt to think about. His eldest son, his first pride and joy. Just like that he had put an end to their bond as father and child. It was a tragedy of the highest order. Once more, he had let his pride get in the way of any hopes of a mutual understanding with his son. He had burnt the bridge that long ago he had built.

It was a horrible thing to have his children ripped away from him like in the case of Tiur and Tigor. It was another thing to see a bond he had built with his child for over two decades to just come crashing down like that. It hurt. Badly.

He had wanted to just embrace his son. He had wanted to believe that just shaking his son and perhaps exerting a little of his aura into him, Timo would see things his way. Things were never that easy, though.

Human beings were complicated creatures. They were irrational beings at times. They know not even what they truly desire, giving themselves countless pictures of what happiness should be.

Partogi always considered himself a simple man. Happiness to him was no more than knowing that his children were safe and were growing up well. But even something he thought was as simple as that had eluded him. He was now left with more bruises in his heart than closure.

Partogi remained in his position, sobbing, until eventually his body was assaulted by the rays of the morning son. He didn't even realise how many hours had passed him by. Going unnoticed in the sea of hurt and sorrow he found himself to be drowning in.

He got up as he stretched his arms, cracking a few of his joints. He had felt horrible and tired at the same time. The awful position he was in coupled by a particularly cold night did little to improve his feeling, waking up after a night and morning of sobbing.

Because he already felt quite dirty being there all night and the fact that he was already near a stream, Partogi felt like it was the appropriate time to clean himself up. It was his daughter's wedding day and he did not want to embarrass his own family and situation any further than he already has.

He didn't need to provide the fuel to the flames his enemies were trying to burn him with. Vicious rumours, gossip, judging behaviour. All of that were the tools people who didn't like him tended to use. If they couldn't fight him through theories and logical analysis, they'd attack everything else but his arguments next.

Such was the nature of lesser men and women. Attacking people they disliked not for the sake of argument, but for the arrogance of wanting to tear apart people they viewed as a threat.

After emerging from the waters and cleaning himself up with a small cloth that he had brought, Partogi finally set out to return to the village. He didn't, couldn't, bring himself to ruin the most important day in the life of his eldest daughter.

Even though their relationship was also incredibly strained, Maria at least didn't consider him to be her enemy. At the very least not openly. This allowed for more legroom in his interactions with her as well as that of her future husband's family.

Regardless, Partogi gathered his wits and bearings to make the walk home. At the very least, this time, he didn't want to purposefully make himself the butt-end of embarrassing and derisive jokes.

These moments within Goria might just prove to be the last fond memories he would have of the place. Because of that, he was determined to at least accomplish one goal before he would inevitably be forced out of the village once more.

Even if he had to beg or perhaps even resort to kidnapping, he would not leave Goria without his precious little children Tiur and Togar. Their baptism be damned, he was determined to never again have a child of his estranged from him just because of the tenets of some foreigner's religion.

If that was what it took to save his daughter and son, then everything else was simply unnecessary. His top priority after the weddings were over were now clear. He had to save his children and bring them up away from the vile influences of the foreigners and their guard. If having his children back with him meant having to destroy other preexisting bonds, then let those bonds be broken. Let new bonds forge in other places.

With his mind now resolute once more, Partogi had finally reached the main gates of Goria and entered. It was already time for the Sibuhabuhai to start and so because of that, Partogi had immediately rushed himself to his former house within the village proper.

His mind now filled with thoughts of marrying off his daughter and then finally starting anew within his father-in-law's land. Who knows? Maybe he could even convince his father-in-law to gift him with a plot of land and a house to better set himself up.

Putting those thoughts aside, Partogi coated his legs with his aura as it helped quicken his pace as he ran through the village. He had made it just in time too as his clansmen had already gone and started to gather within the house, setting up plates and glasses for the people to eat and drink.

Even with all that determination, would things truly go according to his plan? That was something everyone had to contend with. All he could do now was hope for the best for both him and his family.

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