Brian returned home in the evening, his mind filled with thoughts of his future. But as he approached his neighborhood, he noticed a strange orange glow on the horizon. As he drew closer, his heart began to race. The glow was coming from the direction of his house.
He broke into a run, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
His house was on fire, and there were people gathered on the street, watching the flames consume the building.
Brian was in shock, the rain pounding down on him as he stumbled towards the crowd. He was about to push his way through when a hand reached out from the darkness and grabbed him.
It was a man with a scarred face and unkempt appearance. Most people would have been afraid, but Brian recognized him immediately. It was an old friend of his father, Devin Jones, who would occasionally come to visit.
They had served together in the past, and that was how Devin had gotten the scar on his face.
"You can't go in there," Devin said urgently, pulling Brian back. "I'll explain everything later, but right now you have to trust me. You can't go near that house."
Brian hesitated, torn between his desire to find out what had happened to his family and his trust in Devin. In the end, he made a split-second decision and allowed Devin to lead him away from the crowd.
It turned out to be the right decision, as they soon discovered that there were people in the crowd searching for Brian. Devin led him underground, into the sewers, a disgusting, rat-infested place filled with filth and a nauseating stench. Brian followed numbly, still in shock from what he had seen.
He couldn't stop thinking about his family, and the pain in his heart was almost unbearable. He considered turning back, but then he remembered the stories his father had told him about Devin, how they had survived many close calls together as soldiers. He trusted Devin to keep him safe, and so he followed him through the winding, confusing tunnels.
After about 30 minutes, they emerged from the sewers and climbed up to the street level. As they peered out into the night, they saw a group of knights approaching, holding torches aloft. The knights spotted them and shone their torches in their faces, shouting for them to stop.
Devin didn't hesitate. He grabbed Brian and took off running, darting through the shadows and staying one step ahead of the knights. They reached the city walls and ran along them until Devin stopped, hoisted Brian over his shoulder, and launched himself two stories into the air, landing on top of a wall. From there, he jumped
As the moon rose high in the sky, Brian and Devin rode their horse through the dense forest, the cold wind whipping against their faces. Despite the numbing chill, Brian couldn't shake the shock and grief that had seized him when he saw his family home engulfed in flames.
He knew he should be numb, but he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face as he thought of his parents and brothers, trapped inside the burning house.
Devin rode in silence, a grim expression on his scarred face. He had been a friend of Brian's father for many years, and he had been the one to pull Brian away from the crowd of onlookers when he arrived at the burning house. He had urged Brian to run, to flee the city and seek refuge in the wilderness. And so, they had left the city walls behind and ridden into the darkness, not stopping until they stumbled upon a lonely cabin in a desolate stretch of forest.
Devin dismounted from the horse and stumbled to the ground, coughing up blood. Brian quickly jumped down to help him, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, supporting Devin as he leaned against the cabin.
Devin reassured him, telling him that it was just a side effect of his injury. He had suffered a grave injury to his dantian during cultivation, which left him unable to use his spiritual power and placed a great strain on his body.
Despite his injury, Devin was a strong man. He had survived many close calls during his time as a soldier, and he was determined to do everything he could to protect Brian.
Devin nodded, a weak smile on his lips. "I'll be fine," he said. "Just need to rest for a bit." He fumbled with the door to the cabin and finally managed to open it, leading Brian inside.
The cabin was small and cramped, but it was dry and warm, and Brian was grateful for the shelter. Devin started a fire in the hearth and opened a bottle of whiskey, taking a long swig before offering it to Brian.
"I'm sorry, kid," he said, his voice ragged with emotion. "I wish I could have done more to save your family."
Brian took the bottle and drank deeply, the alcohol burning his throat. He wiped his eyes and tried to compose himself, determined to stay strong. "It's not your fault," he said. "I'm just grateful you were there to warn me. What happened, Devin? Why were my parents and brothers taken away by those soldiers?"
Devin sighed and sat down by the fire, nursing his injured dantian. "Your parents moved into the city about thirty years ago, running from something or someone," he said. "They never told me what it was, and I never asked. They were good people, and I was happy to be their friend.
But today, when I came home from work, I saw your father's and mother's bodies being dragged out of the house by soldiers wearing a strange uniform. Your brothers were taken away in chains, and the soldiers were looking for you. I knew I had to warn you, so I took a step back and kept a lookout for you."
Brian listened, his heart heavy with sorrow and anger. He had always known that his parents had secrets, but he had never imagined that their past would come back to haunt them like this. He thanked Devin for his help and promised to do whatever he could to help him recover from his injury.
Devin nodded, his eyes drifting shut as he fell into a restless sleep by the fire. Brian watched over him, his mind racing with plans for the future.