They had journeyed with the strange elven man in hopes that their hope and faith would yield what they wanted.
And it did. For they were kneeling with their son in their hands albeit he was broken and bruised, he was alive. For someone whose burial had already been conducted, for someone who they believed they would never see again, finding him in this broken and unconscious state was more than enough for them.
They'd take a broken son over a dead one anytime, any day.
"It was true." Rakavi muttered with tears. "He really is breathing." She smiled with tears in her eyes.
…
Now Barak laid unconscious on a piece of cloth on the floor in the cottage, with his right hand tightly held by his mother. She'd been in that same position for over thirty minutes, just watching him without saying a word. She just stood there staring at her son. At first her tears were uncontrollable but eventually they had stopped pouring and just hung in her eyes.
