She sat tense and rigid, her eyes darting swiftly between her father and Barwen. The ground beneath them trembled faintly with each of her father's movements — a subtle sign of the tension building and his readiness to strike at any moment.
Adam's gaze was locked on Barwen, cold and unwavering, every muscle in his body taut and alert. Barwen, in turn, stood still and firm, his grip tight around his sword, his eyes fixed on Adam — cold, unreadable, utterly fearless.
Fear surged within Nareman. She didn't know how to stop this — or what she could do if either of them moved suddenly. All she could do was watch, her eyes flicking between them, her heart pounding fast as the air thickened with danger and dread.
She finally tried to speak, her voice trembling:
"Please… stop… don't let this get out of control…"
But no one moved. The tension only deepened, and Nareman felt trapped — between two unyielding wills and a silence that was ready to shatter at any moment.
"Stop… or I'll stop you both myself!"
Moments later, Adam exhaled slowly. The faint tremor beneath them ceased. He turned to Nareman, his voice calm but icy:
"There's no need for that. As for your punishment — it'll come today or tomorrow."
Then he left the room.
When he was gone, Nareman let out a long, shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She stepped hesitantly toward the window — toward Barwen — and lightly tapped his head, like a child scolding a stubborn man.
Her eyes still trembled as she whispered, half in disbelief and half in anger:
"Why did you do that? My father… he'll never back down — not with his pride."
Barwen replied coldly, "I wasn't going to stand there and watch him strike you."
Nareman flinched, then burst out, voice trembling with anger and fear:
"I know… you're insane!"
The next day, Adam's voice rang out:
"Barwen!"
When Barwen appeared, Adam handed him a folded paper.
"There are things you need to buy, and some items to deliver from outside the province. Everything's written here."
Barwen's eyes lingered on him, suspicious and unreadable, before he took the paper and left in silence — each of his steps measured, firm, deliberate.
Then Adam called again:
"Nareman!"
She hurried over, hesitant but obedient. "Yes?"
"You're coming with me to the farm," he said flatly.
Puzzled, she followed him until they reached the farm. There, Adam stopped, turned, and said,
"You'll work here today. Gather every stone in the field and throw them far away."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"
He looked at her without a trace of humor.
"Did you think I'd let you off without punishment? Barwen's been spoiling you lately. You won't stop until the field is clean."
And with that, he walked away.
Nareman stood frozen, her body tense. She ran after him, pleading:
"This is impossible! I can't finish all this — it's too much!"
But he didn't turn back. She stopped at last, staring as he disappeared, stunned and breathless.
Later, when Adam returned home, her mother, Nilufer, noticed the absence immediately.
"Where's Nareman?" she asked, surprised.
"I gave her some work to do," Adam said coldly.
"Alone?" Nilufer's brows furrowed. "Don't you think that's too harsh?"
Adam sighed, sinking into the couch. "Haven't you seen how defiant she's become lately?"
"She's just growing up," Nilufer murmured softly. "It's a difficult age."
–––
At the farm, the air was still. Dust drifted lazily between the dry grass. The sun hung heavy overhead, its light piercing through the branches and burning on Nareman's skin as she stared at the endless stretch of stones scattered across the field.
She began gathering them, one by one — until she lost her balance and fell hard to the ground.
Grumbling, she stood, brushed the dirt from her dress, and reached for another stone — only for it to slip from her grasp and crash onto her foot.
She gasped in pain and hissed through clenched teeth:
"Damn these stupid stones!"
As the sun sank lower, she was still there, her quiet groans blending with the hum of the field. Dust clung to her from head to toe, sweat tracing lines down her face as her breath came in short, ragged bursts.
From afar, Barwen watched in silence — the way she struggled, stumbled, and yet refused to stop.
He walked toward her, his steps light, stopping just behind her.
"Need some help?" he said quietly.
She jumped, whirled around — then sighed in relief when she saw him.
Shaking her head stubbornly, she bent down and kept working.
For a moment, Barwen watched her in silence. Then, with a faint smirk, he said,
"You walk like a penguin."
She froze, spun toward him, glaring, and threw the stone in her hand straight at him.
He dodged easily, his expression unbothered, while she shot him a furious look and went back to work, muttering under her breath.
Without a word, he knelt beside her and began lifting stones as if they were weightless.
She turned to him, incredulous.
"I said I don't need help."
He didn't answer — just kept working, calm and steady.
Before long, the stones were piled neatly at the edge of the field, and the weight in her chest had eased without her realizing it.
When they were done, Nareman wiped her brow and collapsed onto the ground, panting.
Barwen stood, eyes fixed on the distant road.
"Go ahead," he said quietly. "I'll come later."
"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He didn't answer. He simply turned and walked away, his figure fading slowly into the twilight.
When Nareman returned home, exhausted and covered in dust, her father looked up sharply.
"Are you finished?" he asked.
She nodded silently and trudged upstairs to her room, collapsing on the bed until sleep overtook her.
An hour later, the door opened — Barwen entered, carrying the supplies he'd been sent to buy.
Adam, sitting in the living room, lifted his gaze toward him, eyes cold.
"You're late."
Barwen set the bags down with calm precision.
"I had something else to take care of."
Their eyes locked — a silent clash of suspicion and unspoken tension. The air between them thickened.
Suddenly, the children burst into the room, faces pale with terror.
"Dad!" Elias cried, waving frantically. "There's lightning coming from Nora! She's breaking everything!"
Adam was on his feet in an instant, his footsteps thundering down the hallway.
When he threw open the door, a blinding light engulfed him — the whole room glowing with unstable energy.
Nora stood at the center, her hands trembling and clasped together, sparks flaring wildly around her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear.
In the corner, Nareman crouched low, frozen, afraid to move — the flickering light casting the terror on her face in sharp relief.
The air buzzed with power. The room pulsed with danger.
Adam's gaze darted between his daughters — fear, anger, and disbelief all warring in his eyes — as he realized this was something far beyond his control.
"Want to find out what happens next? Add me to your library to see!"😉