Aron's mother brought the steaming hot soup and bread from the kitchen it was a full tray. She walked slowly to prevent a single drop from spilling.
Aron laughed lightly, His eyes gleaming with joy. "It's been a while since I've had a home cooked meal."
"I could tell, you look like a ghoul." She smiled, but with a bit of concern. "That's why I made this one extra special."
She placed the plate before him on a creaky stool. The aroma flew up his airways, reminding him of his past life, here with his family. He took a bite and smiled, ear to ear, tears formed across his eyelids.
"It's that good huh?" His mother said, raising her brows, proud of herself.
"No, it's the steam. That's all." Aron replied. "I don't mean it's not good though, I…thank you, mother." He mumbled, scratching the top of his head, looking down.
She giggled at the site. "You're welcome." She said to him as her expression dimmed.
She leaned in, starring at his severed arm. "How did this happen? As the war began?"
"No, it hasn't" He said holding his arm close.
Her face grew more worrisome, the fear in her heart made it hard for her to ask any more questions. "Then what happened to your arm?" she muttered under her breath in a low tone.
"It's something that I cannot tell you," he replied, somberly.
"Why!?" she replied immediately.
He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her closer. "It's a very top secret mission, but don't worry. I will succeed."
"How can you ask me not to worry? When you show up half dead with only one hand." She said as a tear trickled down her cheek. She cleaned it, raising her head to the ceiling, stopping herself from crying.
Boom!
The front door slammed open.
A man in his late forties, jumped in. He held a cutlass like it were a sword, and with rather good posture.
"Ingrid!" He yelled. "Where are you?"
"I'm right behind you," Aron's mother hissed. "What do you think you're doing, Dama?"
He gasped upon seeing her. "There's a rugged looking horse next to the barn. I thought someone broke in." He said tucking the blade in to his belt.
"No one broke in. But your son as returned." She shifted to the side revealing Aron, who sat behind her.
Aron kept his head low, but still looked his father in the eyes.
Dama scoffed. "He's not my son." He shrugged his shoulders, and headed for his room. But stopped a couple feet away, and turned to Aron.
Aron rose his head up, expecting a greeting of some sorts.
Dama eyed him up and down "We don't allow overnight guests, you'll do well to leave this house as soon as possible." Dama said, turning for his room. He stopped once more, turned to the front door. Bent to his knees, and called out. "Thomas!"
A young boy of about four years walked in, he took gentle steps, his curly hair bounced with each one. "Is it safe now, father?" He said to Dama.
Dama smiled. "Yes my son…" He glanced over to Aron who, watched the boy in awe. "…It was nobody." He said, picking the boy up, and walking into the room.
Aron's eyes remained widened, He could barely form a sentence. "I…I have a…brother." He mumbled.
He turned to his mother, grabbed her shoulder and leaned in. "Why didn't you tell me I have a brother?"
She frowned her face, and starred at him with disdain. "I did."
"When?" He asked gesturing his hands in the air.
"If you answered the letters I sent, maybe you would have known when." She said, giving him the side eye.
Aron sighed, "I tried my best to answer them. It…just got a bit repetitive." He said to her.
"I'm sorry if we're too boring for you, not everyone needs to fight dragons to have a fulfilling life." She folded her arms and looked away, saddened.
Aron sighed. "That's not what I meant, you're not boring…I just wanted do something great." He replied, pulling her gaze back to him, by his palm on her face.
She held his hands, tightly. Her eyes slowly became teary. "Aron, 'greatness' doesn't equal happiness."
Her words hit like a hammer on a nail, it pierced his heart, and the events of the past days began to race through his mind.
"I offered Seraphina to the Talorans…what am I doing?" His head ached, with the thought of his actions. A single tear formed in his eye, as it rolled down his reddened cheek. He clenched his jaw and wiped it away.
Making a fist with his hand. He starred at his mother with raging passion, like the will of a thousand storms stirred in his eye. "Everybody sacrifices something before they achieve their goal."
He exhaled calmly, his eyes cold and dark. "This is my sacrifice!"
"Okay," she nodded and walked away, quietly.
A bit of regret lingered on his face, but he scoffed and shook his head. "I may not have honor, I may not even be worthy of being called a knight, but…" He starred out the window, and at the walls of kindrea, the warm afternoon breeze zipping past his eyes. "…I will be the hero of this story."
Elsewhere.
The royal castle gleamed brightly under the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the otherwise depressing mood that lay round it. Knights worked round the hour some of them leaned on their staffs to keep themselves awake. There was not a moment were the frantic noise of boots weren't heard running through the pathways. And at this hour, with the man hunt still ongoing it was all the more, busier.
A couple of knights approached the castle gates. Their armor was worn out, and shabby looking. The strong stench of beer lay heavy on them.
The two guards standing at the entrance, crossed their spears blocking the gate.
One of the men who approached, stepped forward. "You could have at least let us get a little closer before denying us entry." He said, swinging his hand in the air. He had an un-kept beard and a ridiculous amount of swords around his belts-most of which were foreign.
"Ha! I bet its cause of Jerry," one of them who resembled an ogre said, pointing at the third one.
"Me?" Jerry echoed. "Have you seen your face, Harry?"
Harry grabbed jerry by the collar, "It's not as bad as your breath, though."
"Will you two shut up?" The one with an un-kept beard shouted. He turned to the guards, and bowed lightly, giving them a smile. "I know, I and my comrades are a little…rough around the edges. But we are kinghts of kindrea."
One of the guards spoke up, "and which house do you belong to?"
The man struck a pose. "I am, Sir Bolton of Honeyblade. These are my fellow Kinghts, Sir Harry and Jerry of Honey blade."
The guards tuned to each other, "Isn't that the house the king never sanctioned?" One said to the other.
The other one concurred, "Yes, the one that was ordered to be disbanded, immediately."
They both turned to Sir Bolton, pointing their spear heads at his chest. "Do you think, we'll get a promotion for bringing in this clowns?" One of the guards said to the other.
"Wait you don't want to do that!" Sir Bolton pleaded.
"And why is that?" A guard asked, nudging Bolton backwards with his spear.
Bolton smirked. "Because we brought a gift for the king…" He said as he and his fellow knights shifted to their sides revealing a man who stood behind them.
He had a bean bag over his head and was tied to Harry's waist with a thick rope.
"What kind of gift is this?" The guard said.
Bolton, slowly stepped back, chuckling on his way to the man. He pulled the bag of his head.
The guards gasped in shock.
The man under the bag was Sir Landor, beaten and bruised.
Bolton smirked. "He put up quite a fight, but we got him. Is a bit hard to tell…but that's definitely Landor." He said grabbing Landor by his cheek and pulling it.
"So how about it?" Bolton, gestured his hands to the guards. "We all tell the king we found Landor. It's a win-win."
The guards lowered their weapons and smiled.
Elsewhere, inside the castle's royal sleeping quarters. Thessa sharpened her sword, the light from her window glowed on her. Her expression was serious but troubled. Edric's words still lingered in her mind.
The room's door burst open.
Gasp! Thessa held up her blade, ready for an attack.
Victor walked in majestically, he had a pompous smile on. "Drop, your little knife darling, it's me." He waved his hand in the air.
"How did you get in?" She asked, angered and frowning. "What happened to the guard, who was supposed to be at my door?"
Victor laughed lightly. "Oh he's still there…he just works for me." He smiled, but with a bit of menace in his eyes.
Thessa hissed, giving him a dirty look. "Where have you been? I could have used your voice when my brother was convincing my father not to fight the Talorans."
Victor stepped closer, leaning in. "I was busy, doing this and that…here and there."
She scoffed, giving him a light nudge, pushing him back. "You make it quite hard for someone to work with you."
"The payoff is worth it though," He smirked, but his expression darkened and his mood, became bitter. "Have you heard…about Aron's return?"
She turned her face away from him. "Of course I have. I thought you said he wouldn't return."
Victor chuckled. "He shouldn't have, but I guess the Talorans are more forgiven than I anticipated."
She narrowed her gave back to him, laughing lightly. "I think its better he did. I don't want an innocent man's death on my hands."
"Innocent?" Victor scoffed. "He's lowborn filth, their like pests. Once you get rid of one, another scurries in." He held his dagger, which was strapped to his belt, and frowned. "Who do you think takes up all the prison cells. His kind."
She brought up her head, lining up her gaze with his. "If I want to rule one day. I have to learn to care for even the lowborn."
Victor sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Well in any case he as to die. I can't be with Seraphina, if her heart still belongs to him."
Thessa hissed, biting her lip and turned her face from him, in disdain.
Victor leaned in, putting his hand on the side of her face, turning her gaze to him.
Their eyes locked. His, more calm and teasing. Hers fierce and a bit angered.
He smirked.
She shoved his hand away from her. "Don't put your hands on me."
He hissed, rubbing his wrist gently. "Don't forget our little deal, princess." He said, flicking a lock of his hair back. "You give me Seraphina, and I make sure we battle against the Talorans."
"So far you've failed to deliver." She rolled her eyes.
Victor, leaned back tilting his head up, signifying dominance. "Just make sure you make good on your part, and I will make good on mine."
Thessa smiled calmly. "Maybe try and be a little more likeable, to make my part easier."
Victor smirked, heading for the door. "I might just do the opposite…considering my part is starting a war and yours is convincing your sister to marry, this!" He said gesturing his hand at his face, smiling obnoxiously.
"'That' isn't as appealing as you think," Thessa rolled her eyes, crossing her legs.
He scoffed, flicking his hair back. "What would you know about appealing?" He said as he exited her room.
"Wait!" she called out.
He turned starring her up and down. "What?" his eyes looked frustrated and tired.
She gave him an angered look, but one with more, distress and annoyance.
"Do you think I'm prideful, Victor? Would you say I'm doing this because I'm just proud and ignorant?" She said to him.
"Yes!" Victor said, nonchalantly.
Thessa gasped. "Then why are you are you following me?!"
"I'm joking," he sighed, slouching his back. "You should relax more."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious."
Victor walked up to her, and placed his hand on her shoulder. His expression was caring and he gave her a warm smile.
"Thessa, I'm siding with you because I believe you're right, and so those Sir Baldric, who's actually been to multiple battles. Every knight in Kindrea believes in you." Victor said as he leaned in, his eyes reassuring. "But if you don't believe in yourself, then what's the point of everything we're doing."
Her body loosened up, her heart calmed for the first time in a while. A smile creeped in across her slightly reddened cheek. She chuckled. "If you always spoke like this, Seraphina would already be yours."
He smirked, and picked himself up. "Maybe…but my love and admiration needs to be earned."
She starred at him plainly, but in her heart she was impressed. "I never knew you had a brain in there," she said smirking.
Victor smiled warmly then headed for the exit.
The door swung open suddenly, grazing his nose, almost hitting him.
A knight stormed him, He was of the same house as victor-Viper.
"Ughhh!" Victor exclaimed, "Can I please leave this room." He muttered placing his hand on his forehead.
Thessa stepped forward. "What is it? Can't you knock?!"
The knight bowed. "Forgive me sir victor and my lady, but the king as called for all his council men."
"Why?" Victor raised a brow.
The knight straightened his back. "Sir Landor has been found."
Thessa's heart dropped. "We're going to get found out." She whispered, placing her hand on her chest. To stop her heart from beating out of it.
Victor grabbed her hand. Gazing into her eyes. His smile glistening with excitement.
Thessa confused, but getting calmer.
"Let's go, Thessa. This is going to be fun," Victor smiled menacingly.