Roger's response was swift and harsh, "Can you shut up?" His voice cut through the night, sharp and filled with irritation.
Andrew's breath caught in his throat, and he fell silent, his eyes turning red as he fought to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
"You don't understand who Lady Isabelle is or what that evil manor truly represents. It's a monstrous place," Roger finally spoke, breaking the silence, he created.
"I'm sorry, Uncle. Please forgive me," Andrew repeated. He could no longer hold back his tears. "I didn't have any choice but to accept his deal. You suddenly got so sick, you were on the verge of dying. I was so scared that I almost lost my mind. I had no other choice but to go to them. If something like this happens again, then what? I don't want to see you suffer, and I don't want to suffer either. I know it's selfish, but those are my thoughts."
Roger's stern gaze softened slightly,. "You could have just gone to the villagers?"
Andrew shook his head slowly. "They didn't help me," he replied, his voice heavy with disappointment. "They did nothing to save you."
"Leave this talk. Tell me something else, did you make a contract with the lord?"
Andrew looked at his uncle, confused by the question. "A contract?" he repeated, unsure of what his uncle was getting at.
"A contract," Roger explained, "is a piece of paper that holds the terms and conditions of a deal between both parties. It demands a DNA supplement from the party, if necessary, or normally a signature to make it legal. So did you sign anything like that?"
Andrew's eyes widened as he recalled the event. "I guess I did," he whispered.
Roger's face turned grim, and he let out a long, heavy sigh. "You fool," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of anger and sorrow. "You've bound us to him. Contracts like these aren't just words on paper."
Andrew's heart sank as the full weight of his actions came crashing down on him. "What do we do now, Uncle?" he asked, his voice small and filled with fear.
Roger fell silent again, his eyes only staring at Andrew. And he broke the silence again, his voice was low and filled with a deep, unshakeable resolve. "Andrew, you don't understand the danger you've put yourself in. You need not to go there; I will protect you. I will make sure that you run away before those warriors can take you, I will make sure of it."
Meanwhile, Vanvi on his chair sat gazing at the moon.
"Sir, what is the matter?" Kale asked. He continued, putting his thoughts into his words, "You look troubled. It is worrying me," he said.
Vanvi remained silent for a moment, his gaze locked on the moon.
"There is nothing to worry about, Kale. I am just wondering..." he said, his voice low and measured, tinged with a hint of contemplation.
"Wondering?" Kale repeated. He hesitated, but further asked, "May I know, sir? What is it that troubles you so?"
Vanvi's lips curved into a small smile, but it lacked warmth. He turned his gaze away from the moon, finally meeting Kale's eyes. "I am wondering, if Roger is indeed Vinyl, then what is the motive behind taking care of a teenager?" His tone was calm, but beneath it was curiosity tinged with suspicion.
Kale blinked, taken aback by the question. He remained silent, knowing Vanvi had more to say.
Vanvi leaned back in his chair as he continued, "A man like Vinyl, known for his brutality and crimes, taking care of a teenager is fascinating to imagine, don't you think?"
Kale nodded slowly. "You are right, sir. It is... unexpected. We can only hope that Roger is not Vinyl."
"But," Vanvi interjected, his tone growing more serious, "if he is, then what is the motive? There must be some benefit to him in this arrangement. A man like Vinyl doesn't do anything without a reason, without calculating the gains. And love?" Vanvi let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Love within Vinyl is out of the page."
"Let us run away," Roger said, the desperation in his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
Andrew froze, his mind struggling to process the words. "Run away?" he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion. "What do you mean, Uncle? Run away?"
"Do you have a plan?" he asked, his voice more firm now.
"We must run away, Andrew. It's the only way to ensure our safety. There are things that you don't understand, and I fear that those warriors are mere pawns in a much larger game."
"What about your health?" Andrew asked, his voice trembling with concern.
Roger waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing will happen to me. And before this health of mine fails, your worry might kill me. So please, listen to this old man," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I will listen to you, Uncle. Now tell me, how are we going to escape them? They will be in the village too," he asked, his voice laced with determination.
Roger's voice dropped to a whisper, "We will escape by boat, through the ocean. And then we will leave this kingdom," he explained, his eyes glinting with a mixture of hope and desperation.
"But where will we go after that?" he pressed, his voice small and uncertain.
"You don't need to worry about that," Roger replied, his tone firm but gentle. "We will be safe there. We can build a new life, free from the shadows of Lady Isabelle."
Andrew looked into his uncle's eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was the unwavering resolve of a man who had made up his mind. "We will be safe there?" he repeated, needing to hear it again, to let the words take root in his heart.
Roger nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes, a place she cannot reach. It will be difficult, leaving this kingdom behind, but we must try. There's no other choice."
Andrew swallowed hard, fear and confusion clear in his eyes which he wanted to hide. But, his uncle noticed them.
Placing a hand on Andrew's head, he added, "Pack only what is essential, and be quick. We must leave now," his voice now more firm and determined.
"Now?" Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper while he turned to look around the small house that had been their home for as long as he could remember.
"Yes, now," Roger insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Andrew nodded. "Alright, Uncle. I'll pack our things," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and determination.
They moved swiftly, their movements silent and purposeful. The house, once filled with the warmth of their shared lives, now felt cold and empty as they gathered only the bare essentials.
Every item Andrew picked up seemed to carry a memory with it, but he knew that he must stay focused.
When they finally slipped out of the house, the village was still shrouded in darkness, the first hints of dawn just beginning to paint the sky with a soft, pale light.
The path they took was barely visible, overgrown with moss and damp foliage, but Roger navigated it with a uncanny familiarity that both reassured and puzzled Andrew. It was as if his uncle had walked this path many times before, each twist and turn known to him.
Despite his trust in Roger, an underlying fear lingered within Andrew, a sense of unease he couldn't quite place. Was it the fear of Lady Isabelle that gnawed at his heart, or was it something else?
As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, the wet ground beneath their feet slick and treacherous. The earthy scent of the forest, mixed with the freshness of the morning, filled Andrew's lungs, and despite the danger, he couldn't help but breath in the beauty around him.
Andrew forced himself to stay focused, moving with purpose beside his uncle.
"Uncle," Andrew whispered after what felt like hours of walking, "we're going to run out of water soon."
Roger paused, his breathing heavy but controlled. "Do you want to drink the last drops of the water?" he asked, his voice gentle yet commanding.
Andrew shook his head, the exhaustion clearly visible on both his face and voice. "No, please, you drink it," he replied.
"Drink it," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. "I know where we can find more water."
"But still, you'll need energy to reach that place, and your health is already bad," Andrew protested, his voice filled with concern.
"Fine," he said, taking the bottle from Andrew and he drinking the last drops, he handed the empty bottle back to him, who stowed it in his pack.
"Uncle," Andrew asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them, "do you think we've put enough distance between us and the warriors?" His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of danger, but finding none.
Roger's expression remained calm. "Even if we haven't, they still will not be able to unveil our location," he said confidently.
Andrew nodded, but he did not truly understood what his uncle meant but he hoped for the best.
As Andrew followed his uncle through the forest, the trickling sound of water grew louder, and the dense undergrowth began to thin out, revealing a hidden stream flowing with clear, cool water.
Without hesitation, they both knelt by the stream. Andrew cupped his hands and dipped them into the stream, letting the water slip through his fingers as if he couldn't quite believe it was real.
Meanwhile Roger quickly crafted a makeshift container from a large leaf, and scooped the water up.
"Here, Andrew," Roger said softly. He handed Andrew the leaf container. "Drink slowly; we don't know how long we'll be on this journey."
The first sip of water was heaven, the cool liquid sliding down his throat and spreading a gentle coolness through his body.
"We'll rest here for the night," he said and further added. "This place is well hidden, and the sound of the stream will cover any noise we make. We'll be safe here."
He sat down beside his uncle on the soft ground, the gentle sound of the stream filling the silence between them.
Andrew turned to Roger, and asked, "Do you think they'll find us?" he voiced his concerns.
Roger shook his head. "Not tonight," he assured him.
"We need to find something to eat," Roger said, breaking the silence as he stood up, his gaze scanning the area around them.
Andrew watched his uncle rise, the older man's movements slow but purposeful.
"Can you consume insects?" Roger asked, his tone more curious than anything, as if he were genuinely considering it as an option.
Andrew blinked in surprise, his innocence showing as he shook his head, his expression somewhere between amusement and mild horror.
Roger chuckled softly, a rare sound that brought a faint smile to Andrew's face despite everything. "Along the way, when we head towards Mar'ge village, we'll find something more suitable to eat," he promised, his tone light, though there was an underlying seriousness in his words.