Magnus had once been a knight of towering strength, a man of pride, valor, and unshakable determination. But since the day they captured him during battle, everything changed. He endured torture, refusing to give them the information they sought. For that defiance, they took his ears, mangling his hearing and leaving him in a world muffled by pain and silence. When he returned, broken but alive, the army cast him aside,useless, unfit to serve.

At home, he refused to sit idle. He wanted to help, to still be the man you married, but every day was a struggle.

One afternoon, you found him in the workshop, trying to build a shelf. Frustration bubbled beneath the surface as he swung the hammer, missing the nails and splintering the wood. With a growl, he threw the hammer onto the table, cursing under his breath. You stepped closer and signed, Can I help? but he shook his head, not understanding. His anger deepened as he felt trapped in silence.

Determined to communicate better, you both decided to learn sign language together. You took to it quickly, picking up the signs with enthusiasm and practicing daily. You would sit at the table with books, teaching him simple phrases, fingers moving deftly as you spelled out words and gestures.

Magnus, however, struggled. He often grew frustrated, his patience wearing thin as he stumbled over the signs. While you practiced with determination, he found himself lost in the motions, the shapes of your hands a blur that didn’t connect in his mind. Each time he misformed a sign, he could feel the anger bubbling up again, a reminder of everything he had lost.