Chapter 13: The Escape
"Son, you must leave—NOW!"
Ashborn jolted awake, his mind still clouded by sleep.
"Wha—?! What's happening, Dad? What's going on?" His voice wavered as the heavy atmosphere pressed down on him. The restless sleep he had earlier did little to sharpen his senses, but something in the air—something dark—made his skin crawl.
"No time to explain!" Gray snapped, his voice edged with frustration. His face was twisted in barely contained anger, though whether at the situation or himself, Ashborn couldn't tell. His father stood clad in full armor, weapons strapped to his body as if ready for war. Twin war axes rested on his back, two swords hung from his waist, and several daggers gleamed under the dim light—each one covered with a smell that seemed poisonous.
"Papa...?" Aelwyn's small voice trembled. She clung to the doorway, her eyes wide with uncertainty. But the weight in the air silenced her.
Gray tossed a bundle of clothes to Ashborn. "Here! Disguise yourselves!"
Ashborn caught them, recognizing the insignia of another noble house. This... His thoughts were racing, but there was no time to question. He hurriedly dressed, his fingers trembling as he secured the unfamiliar fabric.
Feronia stepped forward, her expression unreadable, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. "Be safe, my children."
As Ashborn turned to leave, Gray grabbed his wrist. Their eyes met, and in that moment, no words were needed. His father's gaze bore into him, as Gray handed Ashborn a Magic Dagger Ashborn knew that his father was asking of him.
"Do not hesitate when the time comes."
Ashborn swallowed hard, his voice heavier than before. "Yes, Father."