As Kylan blankly gazed out the barn door, watching the morning sun slowly creep into the barn, he was lost in thought, replaying the memories of his time with Fiora in his mind.
Kylan leaned in and pressed his face into Swifty's soft fur, as if seeking solace in the dog's steady presence.
He laid there absentmindedly stroking Swifty's soft, tawny fur. The gentle dog lay by his friend, his head resting above Kylans head as he curled close to his master.
Kylan let out a wistful sigh, lost in the recollection. He really wished to see Fiora again.
Suddenly, the creak of the barn door broke the stillness, and Kylan turned to see his mother standing away from him.
"Kylan. There you are. I've been looking all over for you. You shouldn't be out in the cold." she said, standing in the barn as she covered herself with a blanket with a look of concern written all over her face.
Kylan felt a flush of embarrassment at being caught woolgathering. "Oh, good morning, mother. I was just...thinking, that's all," he replied, while raising his head up.
His mother's brow furrowed slightly. "Good morning. Thinking? About what, exactly?" She moved to stand beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder while he prepped himself up with his shoulders.
Kylan hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Just...memories. How are you, mother?"
His mother's expression softened with understanding. "I see. I'm holding up." She gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
"It's alright to remember, my dear. But don't lose yourself in the past. There is still much to be grateful for in the present, if you open your heart... Did you sleep well?"
Kylan nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. "I'll try, Mother. Yes, I did sleep well."
"I can understand how you feel," she said simply, pulling him into a warm embrace as he stood up. "I know."
"Has father woken up? How's he doing?" Kylan asked.
"He had a good sleep and will be awake soon, hopefully." Lady Elowen replied.
The big dog circled around them offering a silent comfort as they made for the door of the barn.
"Let's go inside the house. I'm sure you must be hungry." She said as she persuaded him. "I'm sure Swifty is hungry too."
With a light bark and a wagging tail, Swifty acknowledged.
"I know. It's been a difficult time for you." She paused, her gaze drifting to Swifty, who was now standing at Kylan's side.
"Thank you, Mother. I appreciate your concern. I know it's been for you too."
"Why don't you come inside away from the cold while I prepare some warm meal for breakfast? I'm sure your father will be happy to see you when he wakes up."
Kylan hesitated, glancing back at the open barn door and the tranquility beyond. Part of him wanted nothing more than to remain in this peaceful solitude, lost in his memories.
But he knew his parents have been worried about him, and he didn't want to add to their distress.
"Alright, Mother. Let's go inside," he said, following her out of the barn, Swifty trotting faithfully at his side.
"You and Swifty are catching up too I see." His mother said, smiling as they made their way to the house. Kylan couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension.
With his father had been gravely injured, Kylan knew the recovery would be long and difficult. He steeled himself, preparing to face the reality of his father's condition. Now, he's torn between returning to the war front and staying back.
As they made for the house, he looked around to see broken items strewn around the compound from the destruction by the raid.
When they entered the cozy, familiar interior of the house, Kylan's father was still in the lair, his face pale and drawn. Bandages wrapped around his torso, but Kylan didn't know this yet. Neither had his mother told him about the severity of his father's wounds.
They entered the house together and made for the lair with Lady Elowen in front.
Despite the faint light, the lair was still shrouded in darkness, the air heavy with the scent of earth and herbs air. Kylan's mother moved quickly to the small table by the entrance, where a lamp sat waiting.
With practiced hands, she filled the lamp with fresh oil, the soft gurgle of the liquid a comforting sound in the stillness of the lair.
Once the lamp was filled, Kylan's mother struck a flint, the sparks igniting a small flame that danced merrily at the wick of the lamp.
The light bloomed suddenly, casting a warm glow that chased away the shadows and bathed the lair in a soft, flickering light.
With the lamp in hand, Kylan's mother led the way further into the lair, the steady light guiding their path that led to his father's resting place.
As they reached where Kylan's father lay, his face pale and drawn in the dim light of the lair, Kylan's heart clenched at the sight of his father's pain. But a glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes as he saw the flickering light of the lamp reflected in his father's gaze.
Kylan's heart raced with a mixture of hope and trepidation as he stood at his father's bedside in the lit chamber of the lair.
The moment had finally arrived—the moment when Aldric Oberon, the mighty warrior and leader of their clan, opened his eyes to see his son standing before him. As the seconds ticked by, each heartbeat seemed to echo in the silence of the chamber, building a crescendo of emotion in Kylan's chest.
Then, like a miracle unfolding before his eyes, Aldric's eyelids fluttered open again as he blinked long, revealing eyes the colour of storm clouds that gazed at Kylan with a mixture of recognition and love.
In that fleeting moment, all the uncertainty and fear melted away, leaving only a profound sense of relief and gratitude coursing through Kylan's veins. His father's gaze held a world of unspoken emotions, a silent reassurance that everything would be alright.
But as Aldric's eyes met Kylan's, the extent of his injuries became painfully clear. His face was drawn and pale, his strong features etched with lines of pain and exhaustion.
"Ronan... Is that you, my son?"
"It's Kylan, Father. Your son," Kylan answered with his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight, a lump forming in his chest as tears welled unbidden in his eyes.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Kylan sank to his knees beside his father's bed, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
The weight of all the fear and uncertainty he had carried for days came crashing down on him, leaving him raw and vulnerable in the presence of the man he idolized above all others.
"Oh...Kylan, my son. Welcome home. You missed the action by boy. They almost had me." He said, as a tear rolled down his left eye as he managed a chuckle that turned into a soft cough.
Aldric reached out a hand, the touch of his fingers a gentle caress on Kylan's cheek, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes in its simplicity.
In that moment of shared vulnerability, father and son found solace in each other's presence, their bond strengthened by the trials they had endured.
Through tear-streaked eyes, Kylan looked up at his father, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had always been their guiding light. And as Aldric's gaze met his, a wordless promise of staying alive passed between them.
Lady Elowen, her heart heavy with the weight of the moment unfolding before her, found herself unable to bear the raw emotions that filled the chamber where her husband and Kylan shared their emotional reunion.
The sight of Kylan breaking down in tears beside his wounded father, the almighty Aldric Oberon welled tears in her own eyes, threatening to spill over.
With a trembling hand pressed to her lips, Lady Elowen turned away from the scene before her, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The weight of her own fears and worries pressed down on her like a heavy cloak. She needed a moment as she hurried out of their presence.
"I'm so sorry, Father. I'm sorry that they did this to you. They will surely pay for this."
His father chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. "Your mother... shehas been a tireless caretaker, but I'm afraid I'm not sure how much longer I'll be around for."
Kylan tearfully reached out and gently grasped his father's hand, mindful of the bandages. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when the raid happened. I should have been here to help defend our home. I'll do everything I can to be by your side from now on."
His father squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Nonsense, my boy. Don't be sorry you couldn't do anything. You had to leave."
Kylan nodded, but the guilt still weighed heavily on him. If only he had been there, perhaps he could have done something to prevent his father's injuries.
His father's expression softened with empathy. "I can only imagine how hard it must be for you, son. Your mother and I, we're so proud of the young man you've become. We always prayed for your safety while you were away..."
His mother came back in to sit beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. "We're a family, and we'll face whatever challenges come our way. We are certain that your brother is safe wherever he is too."
Kylan leaned into his mother's embrace, taking solace in the familiar scent of her perfume and the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat.
And Swifty, sensing his human's distress, came to sit by Kylan's side, resting his large head on Kylan's knee.
His father nodded. "Ah, yes. May the gods be with you wherever you are, Ronan..."
Suddenly, his stomach growled. "Is that pain or hunger?" He asked, as Kylan and his mother couldn't help but laugh at the lighthearted joke.
It was a rare moment of levity in the midst of the challenges they'd been facing.
"Oh, silly. I'll go make something for you." Lady Elowen said as she made for the kitchen.
Kylan's mother squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "I'm sure you must be famished after all your time in the barn. Your body has burned what you had warming you back to life. I'll fix something immediately."
Kylan smiled as he wiped his tears, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "That sounds wonderful, Mother. Thank you."
And from under the blankets, Aldric Oberon let out an audible fart. "That's it. I can feel myself coming back to life."
And they all laughed.