With a misty valley visible from the distance, Ethan West stood at the edge of cliff as the sun shone through the dense forested area around Willowbrook. Despite years of rigorous training, his hands were calloused, and his blueish-silver eyes had a focus that was unusual for he age. He swayed his back and let out a gentle breeze that warmed his rough, black hair.
A young voice greeted him with "Ethan!".
Amelia was seen running towards Ethan, who turned around once more. She sprinted up the steep slope, her long brown locks curling in place. But she was not the little boy clinging on to him during the massacre when she turned thirteen. She was lively and inquisitive, always eager to match her older sibling's level..
"What are you doing here so early?" Amelia inquired, feeling a bit breathless.
Ethan chimed in, "Training is where you need to be resting.".
She said: 'I couldn't sleep.' Sitting on a boulder, I could see my grandfather was up late again. Just then and there...
I believe he is anxious.
Knowing the reason behind their grandfather's restlessness, Ethan clenched his fist and held his fingers. Despite being in Willowbrook for three years, they were still seeking refuge. Previously a modest but highly esteemed family in their tiny area, the West family had been reduced to three individuals. The night of the massacre saw them and their families devastated by the blaze, which caused damage to their homes and most of their family members.
The memory of that night still lingered in Ethan's mind. When he was only twelve, preparing to begin his cultivation journey, the attack happened. ". It was also the night he had his life turned to.'