As the early morning light began to seep through the darkness, beginning to paint the sky in hues of soft pink and gold, Kylan stirred from his makeshift sleeping place on the floor his mother had made earlier.
His once stiff body just a few hours ago was now loose and he could move his joints and limbs from under the blankets and clothes his mother had swathe him with.
Outside, the world lay suspended between dreams and reality as Kylan laid there looking at the window in his cocoon of warmth woven by his mother's tender crafting.
The soft tendrils of light filtered through the windows, painting the room in a wash of ethereal hues – hues of dawn and hope mingled with the shadows of uncertainty that clung to the corners like ghosts of time.
Still in pain, he gently pulled himself up and wedged his back against the wooden tub still wrapped in one of the blankets. The lamb in the room went off before morning but he could see the silhouette of the amulet lying on the floor by him.
He stretched his hand and picked it. And with his left hand he unbuckled it and strapped the amulet onto his right wrist.
He managed to pull himself up from the position he sat obviously gaining some strength from the night rest but he was still wobbly. He made for the door as he groped to find the handle, opened it and slowly inched towards the lair.
His father's laboured breathing filled the room, a solemn symphony that echoed off the weathered walls, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the weight of impending decisions that lay heavy on his young shoulders.
Each exhale was a testament to the resilience of his father's spirit, clinging tenaciously to the thread of existence despite the wounds inflicted on him from the attack that threatened to snip his life.
Careful not to also disturb his still-sleeping mother, Lady Elowen, Kylan quietly checked on his father, ensuring he was still breathing and was covered properly to keep him warm.
Satisfied that his father was resting peacefully, he stole a glance at the amulet he was now wearing on his wrist – a precious reminder of preservation and protection washed over him.
With care, he lifted the blanket that had slipped off his mum and delicately covered her back, ensuring it was positioned properly.
With a delicate care born of love and determination, Kylan moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room, mindful of not disturbing his mother who laid her head on the divan draped in the embrace of slumber like a lily in the morning dew.
Her breath was a whisper against the tapestry of silence, her presence a pillar of strength that anchored the family amidst turbulent tides. Oh his mother... She had really suffered especially these past days.
She has not seen her older son since he left for war neither has she or they heard a word about him. She had lost grain and livestock in the attacks. She almost lost her husband in the last attack. And to add salt to injury, her son almost slipped into a wake-sleep right before her.
He admired her strength and courage in all of these events as he gently closed the door of the lair behind him and made his way to the front door.
Silently slipping outside, into the embrace of the new day after being drenched by the first rains the previous night and into the early hours of the morning, Kylan wrapped himself in a thick blanket, a shield against the biting cold that nipped at his skin like a playful sprite.
The familiar bark of Swifty, their loyal companion, greeted him with bounding joy, his tail wagging in blissful abandon as if to say, "Its good to see you after so long, I've missed you."
Kylan's heart swelled with gratitude for the faithful companion who had stayed by their side through thick and thin. Oh, how he had missed this little puppy that is all grown now. And what a miracle for the dog to still remember him after all this while. Especially after their encounter on arrival.
The path to the barn unfurled before Kylan like a winding river as he dodged pockets of water, lined with the golden glow of the early morning light filtering through the canopy of ancient trees that surrounded the compound.
Still, no soul had woken up by this time yet.
The familiar scents of hay and horses enveloped the morning air, a comforting embrace that spoke of familiarity and childhood memories.
Kylan and Swifty sauntered through their steps crunching on the fallen leaves.
The once sturdy barn door now stood as a shattered sentinel, its wooden frame splintered and cracked from the force that had been unleashed upon it.
The hinges groaned in protest as the door hung limply from one side, barely clinging to its last vestiges of integrity. The rich scent of aged wood mingled with the sharp tang of freshly splintered timber, filling the air with mix of nostalgia and destruction.
He used to play in this barn with his older brother chasing each other and the birds housed inside in while the horses were stabled.
The faint sun rays filtered through the gaps in the shattered door, casting long shadows on the dusty floor of the barn.
Jagged shards of wood jutted out at odd angles, like the broken teeth of a defeated giant. A testament to the door's years of faithful service and ultimate demise.
As Kylan approached the broken door, he could see the faint indentations left by the blunt force that had torn it asunder. The axe and battle ram marks were evident.
The impact had been fierce, leaving behind a chaotic pattern of splinters and cracks that spiderwebbed across the surface like a shattered mirror.
Despite its sorry state, there was a certain beauty in the broken door's defiance. Like a wounded warrior standing tall in the face of defeat, it bore its scars with a stoic dignity that commanded respect.
The sunlight danced on its jagged edges, casting a mosaic of light and shadow on the barn floor.
As Kylan reached out to touch the broken door, he felt a pang of sadness at the sight of something once strong now rendered weak and vulnerable.
It reminded him of his father who had stood strong against enemy attacks all these years but is gradually losing his strength and will not be around for much longer.
But he also felt a surge of admiration for the door's resilience, its silent testament to the passage of time and the trials it had endured.
In that moment, the broken door became more than just a piece of wood – it was a symbol of strength in the face of adversity, a reminder that even in destruction, there was beauty to be found.
He looked around at the destruction and smiled knowing deep down inside of him that they would recover all.
Kylan swung open what was left of the creaky wooden door, revealing a scene of chaos inside. The usually bustling barn was eerily quiet, with only the soft rustling of straw in the breeze to break the silence.
Farm tools lay scattered haphazardly on the floor, their metal surfaces glinting in the dim light filtering through the dusty windows.
Swifty wrinkled his nose at the sight, his whiskers twitching in distaste. Kylan chuckled at his furry companion's expression and patted him on the head reassuringly before stepping further into the barn.
As they navigated the maze of fallen tools and overturned buckets, Kylan noticed the telltale signs of a struggle – hoof prints in the dirt, broken pitchfork handles, and torn sacks of grain littering the floor.
A sense of unease settled in the pit of Kylan's stomach. Swifty growled softly, his senses on high alert as he padded alongside Kylan, his fur bristling with tension. Together, they searched every nook and cranny of the barn, looking for a sign of life or anything they could salvage.
As they emerged back into the dappled sunlight outside, Kylan glanced back at the barn, a frown marring his usually cheerful expression.
The sense of violation lingered in the air, a dark cloud hovering over the tranquil scene. Swifty pressed close to Kylan's side, his warm fur a comforting presence against the chill of uncertainty. Today, he wasn't really feeling like a warrior.
With a determined set to his jaw, Kylan vowed to uncover the mystery of what had transpired in their beloved barn and restore everything that has been taken. The look of determination was written on his face to fish out the people who were involved in raiding his family.
Swifty raised his head in agreement, his eyes shining with loyalty and determination. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, their bond, kindle again, unbreakable in the face of adversity.
On a second thought, he changed his mind and instead of going back into the house, he turned around into the barn and laid down in the far right corner on top of a pile of hay and fresh straw.
As he lay there with Swifty by this side, for the first time in a while his thoughts were peaceful enough to think about his beloved Fiora. It's been so long he saw her face or felt her love. A flash of blush ran across his face.
Memories of the times they shared together flooded his heart as he thought about her. He felt peaceful again...