Making his way back home in frustration, Cyran's stomach growled. "Wisp walking my ass Dad, how is a technique that works only some of the time going to help me?" he chastised himself.
"What am I even saying? He is the Sentinel. And I put Arlen in danger by trying to show off instead of whooping that snotty noble with the basics. I am far from Ranger material as I am now. Let alone Sentinel." Cyran continued his slow trod back to his home, his mood ever darkening with the setting of the sun.
Opening the door of the house he was greeted by the shocked look of his mother who shot up out of her seat as though she were awaiting his arrival. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Arlen told me what happened, why did you start trouble with the Fororra's?" Eleanor blurted out as she examined him.
"I did nothing but practice wisp walking and refuse to drop out of the selection! Trouble found me Mum whether I wanted it or not," he replied. Eleanor opened her mouth to retort when she was interrupted by a small, snotty blur attaching itself to Cyran's leg.
"Big brother are you okay? I tried to help but I couldn't lift a bigger stone and then they caught me and-" Cyran stopped the young elf with a gentle ruffle of his hair before stooping down to look him in the eye.
"No, you did great and that stone was plenty big enough. You know, if you hadn't have come along when you did, I would have lost for sure," he said with a smile.
"Really?" Arlen replied, wiping the tears on the baggy sleeves of his tunic.
"Absolutely. Even if you missed, your snotty face would have scared them off. Now go and clean your face before dinner, you're a mess," Cyran said.
"Would not!" Arlen shouted, sniffling and giggling as he ran off. Eleanor made a loud thud as she started to lay the table, attracting Cyran's attention once more. "You know he looks up to you. He wants to be 'just like big bro and dad' when he grows up. I worry enough about your father and I thought I had some time left before I would start to worry about you but please, don't drag your brother into a quarrel with the nobles.
"I have seen you and your father at work. I know how you can handle those wooden swords of yours and, by the Sage, I know you can defend yourself against those noble pups. I just ask that you be cautious. The noble families do not let slights to their pride lie and there is no depth to which they will not sink in order to defend it.
"Your brother is barely 16 and-" the door opened abruptly and Virion strode in. Swinging the wooden door shut behind him with enough force to shake the house, he advanced towards Cyran with a beaming smile on his face. He grabbed his son by both his arms with a grip that could bend steel.
"Son, I have heard about your quarrel with Rydel Forrora. I am deeply saddened that you have offended such a noble and prestigious family such as theirs!" He yelled, though his face held a grin that left Cyran utterly confused. He was pinned in place by the monstrous strength his father possessed so he did the only thing he could do; he looked to his mother to plead for answers. Eleanor only replied with a shrug and a smile of her own as she continued about her business. Betrayed, Cyran could only endure and hope his Dad would make a little more sense on his own. Virion lifted his son into an embrace that to outsiders looked more like a death grip, yet it was filled with only love and pride.
"You did it! You wisp walked and really handed it to that spoilt, arrogant, loathsome little fuc-"
"Quick thinking dear, our son made some questionable choices today. I believe you should have some words for him," Eleanor finished his sentence whilst shooting Virion a knowing glare and gesturing to their door.
Clearing his throat and releasing Cyran, his father continued, "Your mother is right, I'll not have the Forrora's insulted in such a manner. Fighting should only be done in official duels or the selection." Cyran's confusion was dispelled when he saw past his fathers broad shoulders to their windows and saw a few villagers looking toward their house trying to look busy but accomplishing nothing. Shifting his focus back to his father who was still grinning, Virion winked and loudly announced that Cyran was to have dinner alone in his room to reflect on his actions.
It suddenly all made sense. He wasn't actually punishing him, it was just an act. A poor one granted, but an act nonetheless. As the Sentinel, he could not seen giving familial preference and had to show the people of the village that even his son was not an exception to the rules. Rules that were made by the noble families. This did not mean, however, that they were all powerful. The very same rules that they had created to benefit them also shackled them and only a few knew how. Virion was one such individual.
The noble families, as powerful and ancient as they are, can do nothing to those who play by their rules and emerge victorious. That is, not publicly. Virion had managed to silence every assassin and cutthroat that had ever come his way to the point that it would have been far more efficient to just throw gold into a fire than it would to find someone capable of besting him. Cyran's display of defiance would certainly rattle the cage yet his father could not care less. His son had defended his convictions, saved his brother from harm and beat the heir of the Forrora's into the dirt.
With throbbing arms, Cyran patiently waited for his dinner. Whilst he understood the need for food, he no longer felt that hungry. He sat at the dinner table elated with the knowledge that his father was proud of him. Looking to him mother preparing food, Cyran was brought out of his reverie by a knock at the door.
"We are certainly popular this evening," he thought to himself.
Virion crossed the room to the door and opened it to reveal a tall, hooded figure. Garbed in the blue cloak of the Wardens, the man removed his hood and shook his auburn hair which fell to frame the piercing blue eyes he looked at his father with. His face looked haggard and tired when he gave a small smile, similar to Virion's yet it lacked the same warmth. Extending an arm towards Virion, the two men loudly gripped each other in a sign of welcome and greeting.
Joyfully, Virion pulled the man into their home and hugged him fiercely, "Wyn, you're back? I did not expect you so soon. It takes a good few months to fully scout the forest. Come, take a seat!" Eleanor hurried to pull out a chair for the man who promptly thanked her and sank into it, his broad shoulders sinking as though he had not properly rested for days. Wyn took a moment before speaking a low, urgent tone.
"I am back brother, and I return with news."