He called him father. Even though he was not his flesh and blood, the love and care he showed him was more like a mother's warmth. Through him, he had survived the harshness of life.
"I remember the first day I met you," His father returned to sit beside him. "You were just a teenage boy... That 15-year-old brave boy. Now, look at you; strong and now a full-grown man."
Darkon stared in silence as his father continued speaking.
"I remember that insatiable zeal, pushing you to do everything you could to make me teach you my martial arts at such a young age. At that time, I could recall the fearful hunger for vengeance blooming in your eyes." He paused, his voice a weary sigh as he continued.
"At some point, I thought I had gotten rid of it in you. I thought I had taken the thirst for revenge far away from you. But no. I didn't succeed. I did my best but you couldn't get rid of it. They say a provoked heart is a heart consumed by anger and thirst for retaliation." He swallowed hard and heaved a sigh.
"So many years have passed, but you still want to avenge their death. I don't blame you, son. Look at me, even though I try as much as possible to forget the pain, the dread of that fateful night. Hell no, I couldn't get rid of it. I couldn't forget how my wife, my daughter had died that night." A moment of silence descended. The echoes of the night sent a chilling eerie of grief and brought moisture to his eyes. Absently, he reached up and wiped the side of his eyes.
"Son," His father continued with a strong voice. "Even if I don't make it alive out of the cold hands of Tristan, don't forget the promise you made to me son."
Darkon could feel his father's burden on his firm hand on his shoulder as he reached out and touched him.
"Master," Darkon blurted, making his father gawk at him.
"It has been a long you called me Master." His father said as they smiled at each other.
"You will continue to be a master and a father to me. Don't be afraid of King Tristan, father. You are not going to die in his hands."
His father smiled and shook his head at his son whose life had made him become a man of few words. "It might be hard to understand. No matter how brave a child can be, what an elder can see while sitting down, even if the child climbs a mountain top, he would not be able to see it." He asserted, "The road is tough, son. It will take braveness and endurance to survive."
Another minute of silence fell before he found his voice again and said, "In a few days, you will become a knight in the castle of Horndragon."
Darkon responded with a nod to his father's words.
"Remember the promise you made to me son."
He placed his hand on his father's and spoke in a reassuring voice. "Father, I will not fail the promise I made to you." His father nodded at him as they became silent again.
In the silence, Darkon heard a faint slapping of feathers against each other. His father drew to his feet, opening the window again. "Finally, it's here. I've waited." He whistled, a sign of drawing the flying creature close. Darkon saw a bird resting on his father's arms he took the letter from it and signalled the bird to fly away.
"What does the letter say?" Asked Darkon as his father opened the letter.
"Everything we need is ready. We will send words to King Tristan tomorrow to inform him of our arrival after we have crossed the borders." His father replied having Darkon nod his head as he watched his father burn the paper in the lamp fire.
The moon was now broad in the sky, casting a warm glow into the carriage through the small opening from the window. Now and then, the whistle of the night's gentle breeze accompanied them.
Darkon took a look at the box beside him and opened it. He brought out the painting of a woman placed between the parchment papers, he was drawn to looking at the painting.
"What are you looking at?" The woman who had remained silent finally spoke, observing Darkon looking at the picture. She moved over and sat beside him. She also took a look at what he stared at.
"Gabriella Gibon." The woman muttered, "Isn't she beautiful?" She asked even though she knew Darkon wouldn't give an answer to that. He wouldn't talk. That was who he was. Cold. It takes a mountain to hear his voice.
Staring deeply at him, she became lost in his domineering features which stood poised in the calm evening. His lips, full and inviting, were set in seriousness, hinting at the secrets he possessed.
"What?" He asked turning to the woman as he noticed her deep stare.
"I'm afraid." The woman boldly stated.
"And why should you be afraid?" His voice became soft, echoing in the carriage.
"You know how it's going to be. One wrong move and King Tristan will not think twice in getting us killed. He can not be called a strong king for no reason and he wouldn't have conquered a lot if he had not been careful all his life." Silvarena sighed.
"Come here," Darkon urged, pulling Silvarena into his arms, she felt comforted.
"Always remember what has brought us this far. Remember the days we spent, training with the master. What has kept us through those times? Then you will know that there will be nothing to be afraid of."
Silvarena nodded, finding comfort and full assurance in his arms.
The rest of the night was spent in silence as they waited for the breaking of a new day when they would finally reach their destination.
At the awakening call of the cock crows, their carriage could be seen making its way through the kingdom's village. Darkon couldn't help but notice their presence unintentionally commanded the attention and the curiosity of the villagers. They had crossed the borders when the moon was yet to disappear from the sky.
Some paused on their morning activities gawping at the visitors with a mixture of awe at the aura of wealth that surrounded them and of suspicion as they had not seen such visitors in a long time. The men were in no doubt a striking sight.
Their armor gleamed in the morning sun casting dancing reflections on the ground. They paid no heed to the speculating eyes as they made their way deeper into the kingdom.
Somehow, their presence brought a feeling that their visitation would leave an indelible mark on the kingdom's history.
Darkon observed the people of Horndragon as their carriage continued with the attention they drew into the town where they were less speculated because of the wealth of the town which blended in with their appearance.