The group walked slowly back to Edward's Manor, the autumn air crisp and sharp as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the path. The breeze rustled the leaves on the trees lining the road, and the golden hues of the evening light danced on the grass, creating a serene atmosphere that seemed out of place in the midst of the heavy thoughts weighing on their minds.
Eleanor walked closely beside Arthas, her arm wrapped protectively around Aldrich, who nestled against her chest, his small hands clutching the fabric of her cloak. The child's innocent cooing cut through the quiet like a soft melody, a sharp contrast to the tension surrounding them.
"Mama?" Aldrich's voice was small, a high-pitched query that rang out in the stillness.
Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. She had been lost in thought, trying to shield herself from the dark clouds of worry gathering in her mind. She looked down at Aldrich, her heart swelling with affection, and her lips curved into a smile, her eyes bright with a fleeting joy.
Eleanor's gaze flicked to Arthas, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, well," she teased, the hint of mischief in her voice, "he called me first."
Arthas paused for a moment, his footsteps faltering as he processed her words. He turned to her, a subtle grin creeping onto his face, though his expression was clouded with an undercurrent of anxiety.
Eleanor's eyes twinkled as she knelt down to Aldrich's level. "Yes, my dear?" Her voice softened as she leaned in close, her fingers gently brushing through his soft hair.
Aldrich tried to speak again, his little voice still unrefined and sweet. "Are you okay?" he asked, his words faltering but filled with an innocent sincerity that pulled at Eleanor's heartstrings.
Eleanor's heart clenched. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stop, and her gaze hardened with the weight of her worries. She quickly masked her emotions, slipping her mask of calm back into place. Her smile returned, but it was tinged with something deeper—something sadder.
"No, my dear. Nothing's wrong," she replied, her voice steady, but the faint tremor in it betrayed the unspoken fears that had begun to bubble up inside her. She pulled Aldrich closer, wrapping him securely in her arms, and began humming a gentle lullaby. The sound seemed to fill the space around them, a soothing balm for the tension that gripped her.
Arthas watched her, his heart heavy with concern. He turned to Viscount Edward, his eyes searching for answers, though he wasn't sure what he was looking for.
He leaned in close to Edward, his voice low, almost as if he feared disturbing the fragile peace that had settled around them. "Have you encountered this... when your offspring were blessed by the All-Mother?" he asked, his words betraying a hint of unease.
Edward's face softened as he looked at the ground, his footsteps slowing. The sound of his boots crunching on the gravel beneath him seemed louder than usual. "No, lad," he sighed, his voice thick with concern. "This is different... I can't quite place it, but it unsettles me." His eyes shifted toward Aldrich, a shadow of doubt clouding his expression. "I just hope nothing bad happens to the child." There was an edge of vulnerability in Edward's words, a side of him rarely seen, especially when speaking of his children. The jovial and commanding figure he often presented seemed to crumble under the weight of his worry.
Eleanor, hearing this, glanced over at Arthas. Her expression softened, her eyes darkening as she met his gaze. The unspoken worry between them was palpable, and for a moment, the world seemed to contract around them. The tension was thick, and yet, in that fleeting moment, it was just the three of them—united in their shared concern.
Arthas, aware of Eleanor's unspoken fears, moved toward her. He ruffled Aldrich's soft hair, his large, calloused hand gentle despite the strength it held. He lowered himself slightly to look at Aldrich. "Aldrich, I will train you to be a warrior," he said, his voice low but filled with determination. "Would you agree to that?"
Eleanor shot him a sharp glance, her gaze burning with a protective intensity. "You're not serious, are you?" Her words, though restrained, were a clear indication of her reluctance. She didn't want her child anywhere near the dangers of battle. She was willing to protect Aldrich from the world as much as she could, even if that meant standing in opposition to her own husband's wishes.
Aldrich, blissfully unaware of the growing tension between his parents, looked up at Arthas with wide, trusting eyes. His small body nodded vigorously, and his voice rang out, childlike and earnest, "Yes, father!" His tiny hand shot up in a clumsy salute, his fingers trying to mimic the soldiers he had seen in passing.
The sight was so innocent, so pure, that it drew an involuntary chuckle from the group. Even the hardened escorts accompanying them couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight. Aldrich's salute was small but full of intent, a silent declaration that he would one day rise to meet his father's expectations.
Eleanor's heart fluttered with a mixture of pride and sorrow. She looked down at Aldrich, her smile softening. There was joy in the moment, but also an underlying sadness that threatened to spill over. As much as she loved her son's spirit, she knew that life would soon test him in ways she couldn't control. Her gaze flicked back to Arthas, the weight of their unspoken thoughts heavy in the air between them.
They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the soft whispers of the evening breeze. The manor loomed in the distance, its silhouette framed by the fading golden light. As they neared the gates, the path grew wider, the trees thinning out, and the smell of the rich earth beneath their feet mingled with the scent of distant smoke from a hearth.
Suddenly, their peaceful walk was interrupted. Without warning, they bumped into Marvin, the Apprentice Mage, strolling casually along the path. His presence was an abrupt disruption to the tranquil mood that had settled over the group.
"Greetings, Viscount Edward," Marvin said, bowing with an exaggerated flourish. He then nodded at Arthas and Eleanor, his eyes briefly lingering on the child. A spark of curiosity flared in his gaze, though it was quickly masked by his usual self-assuredness.
Edward's face tightened at the sight of his son. He had been hoping for a quiet evening, away from the irritating antics of Marvin. He couldn't help but bring up the matter that had been bothering him for some time. "I heard from Arthas that you scammed him out of two golds for some drops of your mana potion?" he asked, his voice low and sharp, tinged with frustration.
Marvin chuckled, the sound light and carefree, as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Well, it wasn't exactly scamming, my Lord. Mana potions are quite expensive, after all." He shrugged, his voice full of nonchalance, not bothering to look at his father as he spoke.
Edward's eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. The frustration he had been trying to suppress flared. "I provided you with that mana potion," he said, his tone growing colder. "Don't think that just because you're my son, you have the right to scam my people!"
Despite their resemblance, it was clear that Marvin didn't quite share his father's sense of responsibility. He was his second son, and his sense of entitlement often made him behave in a way that Edward found irksome. Still, Marvin simply ignored the reprimand and turned his attention to the Kane family.
"I heard your child was blessed by the All-Mother. What was the result? I'm sure he's a mage—he certainly looks intelligent," Marvin said, his tone light but edged with an underlying curiosity that made Eleanor's expression darken.
Edward, already agitated, shot back, his voice laced with authority. "It's not your place to meddle in their family affairs, boy," he snapped, his usual patience thinning under Marvin's casual approach.
Marvin, ever the rebel, shrugged nonchalantly. "Relax, father. I was just trying to make conversation." He turned his attention to the child again, his gaze now scanning Aldrich with cold curiosity. "Hmmm, his eyes... they're brighter than before. I'd love to be his mentor when he starts learning magic."
His words were spoken with such careless disregard that it made Eleanor's skin crawl. The idea of her son being taken under the tutelage of someone so detached from the weight of responsibility unsettled her deeply.
Without waiting for a response, Marvin turned on his heel, walking away with the same easy confidence he always had, leaving the group behind with a sense of unfinished business hanging in the air.
Edward sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his son's antics. "This carefree lad... I'm sorry for his insensitive words, Eleanor," he muttered, his voice laced with both frustration and resignation.
Eleanor chuckled softly, her lips curling into a fond, albeit weary, smile. "It's alright, you old fool. You should loosen up with your son. He was just messing with you." She gave him a playful nudge, though the weariness in her eyes was undeniable. Edward chuckled in return, the tension finally beginning to ease, though his thoughts were far from settled.
When they finally arrived at the Manor, Edward wasted no time in calling Arthas aside, ushering him toward his office with a swift motion. The others, content to leave the men to their business, continued toward the living room.
"What matters do you want to discuss, milord?" Arthas asked as he followed Edward inside, closing the door behind him with a sense of foreboding.
Edward's expression hardened, the joviality gone from his features. "The orcs from the South—what I told you about earlier. They're rallying this coming winter. That's the intelligence we've gathered from the Kingdom."
Arthas' face darkened, the weight of the news sinking in. "Is this confirmed?"
Edward nodded, his voice grave. "Yes. It came directly from the Third Prince's officers."
The Third Prince of Kingdom Almira, Samuel Bravemoore, was the royal whom both the House of Bolkiah and the House of Kane had pledged their allegiance to. The South had been plagued by orcs and beasts for years, and each year the casualties grew. The people of the South needed high-tier warriors to lead them—warriors like Arthas.
Arthas let out a long sigh, his body slumping with the burden of what was to come. "What do you need me to do?"
Edward's eyes narrowed as he met Arthas' gaze. "You need to lead our army."
Arthas felt the weight of the words land heavily on his chest, his heart sinking. He had known this moment would come, but hearing it spoken aloud made it feel all the more real. His thoughts immediately turned to Aldrich, and the ache of leaving his son behind gnawed at him. But duty came first.
He stood tall, thumping his chest with his left hand in a gesture of respect. "Yes, Milord." It was a response that carried the weight of duty, though his heart longed to be anywhere but in this office.
Edward nodded solemnly. "After a month, we will gather our forces here and ride to the border of the Southern Desert, to the Kingdom of Almira." He returned the salute, his expression as grim as the circumstances.
As Arthas left the office, Edward sat back in his chair, staring at the door for a moment longer. A sigh escaped his lips, and he whispered under his breath, "I'm sorry, lad... but we need all the help we can get."