Erhen left the carnage behind, not sparing the frightened man another glance. His gaze remained fixed on the forest floor as the sun's waning light filtered through the skeletal branches overhead, casting flickering shadows like fleeting ghosts. Time seemed to flow strangely on The King's Road as he trudged on.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the forest grew quieter, its diurnal hum retreating into the embrace of dusk. Darkness blanketed the world in silken folds, and the creatures of the night began their symphony: a chorus of chirps, rustling leaves, and the distant cry of a hunting owl. The damp air clung to Erhen's skin, carrying with it the earthy tang of decaying leaves. The approaching cold pressed against him like an unwelcome hand, sharp and insistent. Nearing the Vaelith Reach, he knew the temperature would only drop further.
He moved with purpose, gathering dry kindling and crafting a camp near a natural hollow to shield against the evening wind. Once the fire caught, its warmth spread eagerly, licking away the chill. As flames danced, shadows stretched and curled around him like watchful spirits.
Erhen sat back and glanced at his arms that were now smeared with the dark crusted remnants of blood. He grimaced at himself and with reluctant effort, he rose and trudged toward the slow-moving creek nearby. The water glistened under a rising sliver of moonlight, its surface whispering with the subtle eddies of the current. Kneeling beside it, Erhen plunged his hands into the icy flow. The chill bit at his skin as he scrubbed the blood away, it swirled into the water like fleeting tendrils of ink.
When the task was done, he put on his clothes and armor, though now they were wet and cold. Erhen moved closer to the fire, putting collected branches onto the flames to keep it alive. He sighed as he sat back and stared into the flames. His green eyes got lost in their dance as his mind began to wander, returning to a time when there was still light in his world.
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A sunny afternoon in the courtyard of their family home. His son's laughter rang out, clear and unburdened, as he tried to mimic Erhen's swordplay with a wooden stick far too large for his small hands. The boy tumbled over himself and fell into the grass.
Erhen walked to his son and helped him stand up. He brushed the dirt and grass off the boy before reaching down. Putting his calloused fingers over his son's, he guided him into a better grip on the wooden sword. "Tyr, hold it like this." He nodded as he began to help adjust the stance. "Listen, son. See the cut before you draw, breathe… and the moment to draw will reveal itself."
Tyr nodded solemnly; his bright eyes widened as he fixated on his fathers every word as if they were from the lips of the Gods. He watched as his father took his stance with his own wooden sword. Erhen would stare quietly at the wooden dummy he had set up to help his son practice. A breath was released, and the wooden sword flew up to smack the head of the dummy and Tyr exclaiming excitedly, "My turn! My turn!" The boy jumped up to stand beside his father, mimicking his stance. Erhen stepped away and stood to the side to watch. "Don't move…" Erhen used the tip of his weapon to fix the boys stance.
Once he was done, he stepped back once more. "Okay, Tyr… now…" The boy attempted to perform the maneuver but ended up once again falling all over himself. Erhen couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. "It's okay son. Stand up... Show me your guard," Erhen instructed, before moving to stand in front of Tyr as the boy stood and held the wooden sword defensively.
The boy's spirit was unmistakable, "Good… but what if I strike here!" Erhen's wooden blade raised to strike at the Tyr's head. The wooden blades clacked together as Tyr managed to defend. "I did it!" Tyr exclaimed with pride; it was the first time he had ever managed to block his dad.
"That's it!" Erhen said, unable to suppress his own smile. "But remember, you have to read your opponent and anticipate their moves." He stepped forward, hooking his leg behind Tyr's and pushed him onto his back and into the grass. Tyr rolled away and got up and ran at his dad. "That's not fair!" As Tyr dropped his sword and began to beat on Erhen's chest.
"Yes, it wasn't fair," Erhen chuckled as he wrapped an arm around the boy. "But your enemies won't be fighting fair, will they?" The sparring session continued, with the sun dipping lower and painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. Finally, Tyr landed a strike on his father's arm. Although it was weak and barely touched him, the boy's joy was boundless.
"I did it!" Tyr cried, while throwing his sword to the ground and hugging his father! "See, Dad! I'll be just as strong as you!"
"Ahhh!" Erhen knelt down and wrapped his arms around the boy and took him in a tight embrace. "Well, son, my job is to make you stronger and better than me." He grinned as he turned his gaze to the house. "Hear that? I think it's time for dinner."
Indeed, a moment later… there came a sharp, loud whistle. "Oh man… you know the rules... We need to run before she whistles a third time!" Erhen dashed for the house with Tyr following closely behind! "Dad! You're cheating!"
By the time they got to the house, Vanessa was about to whistle for the third time. "Ahhh… um… Darling…" Erhen smiled nervously as he looked at his wife. "We were just..."
Vanessa held a hand up. "I don't want to hear it. Get inside and get ready for dinner, the both of you! I swear sometimes I feel like I'm raising two children instead of one!" She fussed as she stepped to the side to let both into the house while looking at Tyr with a smile. "Make sure you wash your hands, or you get no dessert!"