Chapter 130: The Brothers
That evening, in the dimly lit room of Mayor Roder Fuerte’s study, the Norse family gathered once more — a rare reunion forged under quiet urgency. Asael had requested this meeting, and his heart pounded in his chest as he stood before his father and brothers, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on his shoulders.
The once lively Fuerte Mansion had grown quiet under the shroud of dusk. The faint flicker of lanterns cast long shadows across the stone walls, their glow barely reaching the corners of the room.
General Odin stood behind the mahogany table, his handsome face unreadable, the lines carved into his brow a testament to years of war and loss. Having traveled from the Hainai Camp, his remaining sons sat quietly, their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern.
Most of the soldiers in Hainai had already been sent home after their long campaigns; only two commanders and their troops remained behind to safeguard the territory. Even now, the weight of their duty lingered in the air.
General Odisn’s sons were present except for the Peredur, who stayed in Savadra to study as he was a scholar.
The sons of General Odin:
The Norse sons were a formidable lot, each bearing the mark of their lineage. Asael, the eldest at twenty-three, stood at the forefront, his features a perfect blend of their parents — the sharpness of their father’s gaze, the quiet resilience of their mother’s grace. Of all the siblings, only Lara shared Asael’s striking combination of traits, though her face was softer, more delicate, her jawline gentler, her eyebrows less thicker than Asael and her lips the shape of cupid’s bow.
Beside him sat Galahad, the second-born, barely twenty-two, who held the rank of Lieutenant. He was already carrying the weight of responsibility on his broad shoulders. His eyes, sharp and watchful, scanned Asael with a quiet intensity.
Bener, the third son at twenty, sat fidgeting with the hilt of his dagger, his restless energy barely contained.