"Your sister might die soon."
In his half ripped armour and wounded state, as if he had come straight away from a battle, sat my father who I despised so much as to I was uncomfortably to be in the same room as him.
And now he was suddenly home after years, at seven in the morning telling me my sister's life was being threatened.
He came all the way from the capital, losing his breath over something that sounded so ridiculous?
A year ago, my mother was bed ridden, sick to the core and lost her precious life. Did he come to pay her respects? No, he never came.
"And what concerns you, father? I'll protect my house and my family." I was itching to scoff at his face. "Just like how I managed to send my mother off."
I wrote letters everyday. He refused to write back and come forth to take responsibility as a father. I had to borrow money for the burial from the store I worked at.
And this man, he was loaded. He worked at the capital, after all, under the nobles, among the rulers, as a warrior.
He looked visibly pricked by my words. "I am sorry, that your mother passed."
If only his apology was towards his absence all this time.
But what bothered me was that, he had stated absolutely clear that Aenor's life was in danger. I couldn't look past that, whether it was a lie or not.
I wanted him to say it whole, and stop delaying.
"I do not wish to entertain you." I seethed.
"And I don't see Aenor around?"
He had no right taking her name. And I knew better than to tug at his strings, though I didn't quite know whether he would be affected by any of my words. "She's out, getting the cut out wood."
The old man's gaze shifted intensely, and now he was looking at me in the eyes. I couldn't move, I was captivated by the sterness of the situation.
He and I were sitting down, facing each other. His face was covered by dirt and as much as I would have liked to offer him water, he looked against doing anything but talk.
"Fight for us."
I took a sharp breath.
"That's the last thing I want to do."
And it was. Anything he would say further would only make him suspicious. And fight? For whom? The country was filled with nobles who could bend their abilities and powers as they pleased.
"Fight for us." he repeated, fists shaking in fury.
My caged heart was violently pounding as I said, "No." and my voice wavered.
"Fight." He paused, and I could see the blade on the table through the corners of my eyes. One move and I would reach it. I can't fight this man, but I can try to, if he attempts to use force. He looked unbelievably risky to be around. "Fight, if you want to see your sister alive."
He was pressurising me with so much intensity, as to I was frozen in my place, not sure what was going on.
"Why are you demanding I fight? For my sister?"
I was cut off mid-way when he said, "Young nobles are all dead."
He ended his sentence there. Silence settles down slowly in the air for the next few minutes as his words started ringing in my head loud and clear.
Nobles were dead?
The protectors of the nation were defeated?
I suddenly felt naked under the circumstances that our nation exposed me to. There's no one in the front who's willing to fight?
I could sit here and think for an eternity, and yet it won't be enough.
"Quinn, I'm home." I lowered my gaze, listening to the way Aenor made her way into the room, and stopping abruptly. She saw him, I could sense it, the way she didn't move a nerve said it all.
The old man looked beat.
Four clans, four nations and four rulers. Yet, he bothered himself to ask me, a mere peasant, a half noble, to fight a war on behalf of them.
"We will lose, if I fight." I stood up, eyes meeting Aenor. I dismissed the subject, walking out of the conversation and picking up the wood Aenor brought home. "Will you stay for lunch?"
"Everyone is dead. All the young nobles of all clans are defeated. Aenor is next, they're performing blood sacrifice. You have to stop them."
My eyes widened. This can't be a massacre, they weren't helpless. This was a defeat. This was war.
He must be lying, right?
"Old man, you sound desperate, don't make up stories." I turn around, facing away. I can't meet his eyes anymore. He is asking me to enter a death parade where even nobles didn't last.
"I am no fool who sits before my son, begging."
I trudged forward, and embraced Aenor. I will not let anyone's shadow be casted on her.
"I don't understand a word you're talking about. But, I won't leave Aenor."
He chuckled. "This is war. You can't take Aenor with you."
"I didn't agree to fight yet."
In her dying breaths, mother told me, I'm the only one Aenor had, though not by blood. She was adopted, I know, but she was the only family to me after mother's passing, and I, for her.
I want to stand by that.
"Why am I supposed to leave Aenor and fight?"
"Because," He said, "I believe, only you can do it."
"Why is that?" I shook my head letting her Aenor go. She looked up at me, baffled at our conversation. She was old enough to figure out what we meant, anyway.
When he said the next few words, it sounded odd to me, but at the same time, it wasn't something you hear everyday.
"Only you can kill him."