Roger's frustration erupted like a dam breaking, and he lashed out to Andrew. "Go, leave!" he shouted, his words cutting through the air like a whip. "They must be still around. And when they tear your sweet flesh apart bit by bit, then return to me!"
"However, remember," he added, his tone now colder, more resolute, "our relationship ends when you make your mind to leave this house."
Andrew's heart sank deeper with every word, each one striking him with the force of a physical blow. But still, his gaze remained fixed on the letters scattered around him.
"I understand... uncle..." Andrew's voice was soft, almost defeated.
Roger's response was swift, his voice stern and unyielding. "Now that you do, stop collecting them and burn them," he commanded, his words leaving no room for argument.
Andrew's movements came to an abrupt halt, his hands hovering over the remaining letters. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice a whisper of resignation. "Yes, uncle."
With the decision made, Roger turned away from Andrew, his body tense as he moved to lay down on the bed. "Andrew, come to me," he called out, his voice carrying a note of urgency and longing.
At Roger's summons, Andrew rose from his spot on the floor, leaving the letters behind. He walked over to the bed, his footsteps slow and deliberate, as if each step was a struggle against the weight of his emotions.
Roger turned to face Andrew, his eyes searching his nephew's face for something—some sign of understanding. "Do not leave me, Andrew..." he implored. "Never for nothing."
"I will not, uncle," he promised, his tone steady, filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt.
Roger reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he grasped Andrew's. "You know whatever I do, I do it for you," Roger said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "It is for your own safety and happiness."
Andrew met his uncle's gaze, his own eyes softening with understanding. "I know, uncle," he replied, his voice gentle.
Meanwhile, the warriors continued their journey back to the inn where they were temporarily staying, the rhythmic sound of their horses' hooves echoing against the backdrop of the approaching storm clouds.
"Sir Kale must be happy to return back to Rema," Michael whispered to Nin, his voice barely audible to others. A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he awaited Nin's response.
Nin nodded in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his face. "True," he affirmed quietly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "After all, it is our romantic but grumpy Sir Kale," he teased, his eyes twinkling with humor.
Kale, riding slightly ahead of them beside the captain, overheard Michael and Nin's whispered conversation. He turned his head subtly in their direction, his keen senses picking up on their conversation, but he chose not to intervene or acknowledge their words. Instead, he maintained his focus on the path ahead, his expression unreadable as he continued to ride alongside his fellow warriors.
On catching Kale's glance, Michael and Nin fell silent, their amusement fading into respectful quietness.
After a while, Stephen spoke breaking the silence, "What now?" his voice tinged with boredom as he looked up at the darkening sky.
His twin brother, Steven, considered for a moment before replying, "What? What now? It is just going.. to.." his words trailed off as his gaze shifting upwards towards the ominous clouds that loomed overhead, "rain pretty hard. No worries. We are heading to the inn anyway so more to no worries."
"You're right, brother," Stephen remarked.
"The weather has turned unexpectedly," added Michael, his tone filled with wonder and a touch of awe. "Dark clouds like these... quite unusual."
"It truly is..." agreed Steven, casting a wary glance at the gathering storm clouds.
Nin jumped into the conversation with a hint of superstition. "Have you heard that a weather like this could be the sign of the arrival of the Rain God? The Dragon?"
"What are you saying? The Rain God? Dragon? Do you mean to say the Rain God is coming here?" Stephen inquired skeptically, disbelief coloring his voice.
"It's just folklore," Michael interjected, his tone dismissive. "Just some stories made up to explain unusual weather."
"However, science is better explanation," commented Steven.
"Guys! The legends and ancient books says it!" Nin insisted, his eyes wide with excitement. "When the skies are clear and suddenly black rain clouds appear which are both thunderous and ominous—it is said to be a sign that the Rain God is coming to that exact place!"
"Oh?" remarked Hakira, his voice tinged with disappointment as he listened to Nin's tale.
Hakira let out a sigh, his expression betraying a sense of longing. "I wonder why? Can't he just stay in his palace a bit longer? I was watching the sunset." His gaze wandered to the darkening horizon, where moments ago a dazzling sunset had painted the sky.
"Hakira being Hakira," Sarah chimed in, shaking her head in amusement at Hakira's predictable response.
"Perhaps there is some truth to the folklore, but dragons? I do not believe that," Steven said skeptically. "You really need to stop believing in such stories."
Nin shrugged, undeterred by Steven's skepticism. "It makes the journey more interesting, doesn't it?" he replied with a playful grin.
As they neared their destination, the Gear inn. The flickering lights of the inn came into view, casting a warm glow against the gathering dark clouds.
Then all of a sudden, a gunshot echoed from nearby, catching their attention, making their senses alert.
Steven's brow furrowed with concern, his voice tense as he broke the silence. "Sounded like Joe's gun," he said, his words heavy with unease.
Vanvi, their captain, snapped into action, his voice sharp and commanding. "Sarah! Check!" The urgency in his tone left no room for hesitation.
"Yes, Captain!" Sarah responded immediately, her voice reflecting the seriousness of the situation. She dismounted her horse with practiced speed and knelt to the ground, her movements fluid and purposeful. The others watched her with bated breath, their anticipation growing with each second that passed.
While placing her hand on the earth, Sarah's blue eyes turned black and she focused her senses. Her unique ability allowed her to project her vision with the speed of light, piercing through physical barriers and distance to reveal the truth. Her breath caught slightly as she saw Joe, his stance steady, practicing his shooting on distant, moving targets.
A wave of relief washed over her as she relayed the information back to the group. "He's practicing," she confirmed.
The group collectively exhaled, the anxiety that had gripped them slowly ebbing away.
"I told you," Steven said, his voice laced with pride. He flashed a confident grin, basking in the small victory of his earlier prediction.
"Yes, you and your sharp observation skills," Michael replied with a smirk.
Just then, Hakira's eyes lit up with excitement, an idea sparking within him. "I have an idea!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm palpable as he looked around at his comrades.
"What's he about to say this time?" Stephen muttered under his breath.
"I wonder that too," Nin chimed in, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and mild exhaustion.
"How about we go and bathe in the Gear River? It will be fun! Just imagine, rain pouring down from the skies as we immerse ourselves in the cool waters of the river," he said, his voice brimming with excitement.
And he waited eagerly for their responses, but was met with an awkward silence.
The group simply stared at him, their expressions a mix of surprise and bemusement. The silence stretched on, growing more pronounced as Hakira's bright enthusiasm failed to resonate with the others.
Stephen leaned toward Michael and whispered, "It's a surprise he didn't suggest something completely nonsense this time."
Michael nodded in agreement, whispering back, "True... though it still seems a bit... out of place."
Growing more impatient, Hakira demanded, "Well? Hasn't anyone here done something like this before?"
Stephen couldn't help but smile. "Of course, we have," he admitted. "And yes, it's fun… but we need our captain's permission for that sort of thing."
Michael added, "We have to ask Sir Kale for permission, but I can not.."
"Why?" Stephen asked, his amusement clear as he caught on to the playful tension in Michael's voice. A smirk played on his lips, enjoying the situation.
Michael shrugged, "Just… you know how he can be. But hey, Nin could ask."
"What? No way!" Nin protested, his eyes widening at the mere suggestion. The thought of approaching Kale with such a request made him visibly uneasy.
"Fine, I'll do it," Steven volunteered, rolling his eyes at the reluctance of the others.
With a deep breath, Steven nudged his horse forward until he was riding alongside Kale. He cleared his throat, preparing to ask. "Sir Kale," he began, his voice respectful but tinged with the nervousness of someone about to make an unusual request, "we were wondering if we could take a moment to bathe in the Gear River."
Kale turned his head slightly, his expression as unreadable as ever. He passed there unusual request onto Vanvi, who rode at the head of the group. "My lord, they're asking for permission," Kale relayed, his voice steady.
Vanvi raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the odd request. "And for what exactly?" he inquired, his tone carrying a mixture of curiosity and mild skepticism.
"They say they want to bathe in the Gear River," Kale replied, his tone neutral, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at the group.
Vanvi considered it for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the darkening sky and the inn that was now within sight. "No," he finally decided, his voice firm but not unkind. "Wait until you reach the inn," he said, addressing the group with a tone that left no room for argument.