The sanctuary was alive with quiet purpose as Thomas and Alaric prepared for the next steps in their battle against the encroaching darkness. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of old parchment and the faint tang of herbs. Thomas was focused on imparting the final pieces of knowledge to his son, knowing that their time together was drawing to a close.
Alaric watched his father with a mixture of respect and concern. He could see the strain etched into Thomas's face, the lines that spoke of battles fought and sacrifices made. Despite the calm exterior, there was a tension in the air—a sense of urgency that neither could ignore.
Thomas turned to Alaric, his gaze steady and filled with a father's pride. "Alaric, there is one final thing you need to know before I leave. It's about summoning your familiar."
Alaric nodded, his expression serious. "I'm ready, Father. Tell me what I need to do."
