Lord Rodel sat there for a long moment, gripping the arms of his chair so tight it looked like he might rip the wood. The candlelight made him look older than usual — not just tired, but… broken.
"So… that's really how it went down?" His voice cracked, more surprise than anger. "I never thought my brother's death was… like that." He swallowed, eyes searching Rioran's face. "You… you're the only one who walked out?"
Rioran shifted and stuck his metal leg out a little, the joint clicking faintly. "Yeah. As you can see… I'm not exactly the same man. Built it myself. Took forever. And yeah — it squeaks if I move too fast."
Rodel blinked, half-impressed despite himself. "Looks solid, though."
"Solid, sure. Comfortable? Not really." Rioran gave a dry laugh. "But hey, I'm still walking."
The room went quiet again until Rodel finally asked, "It's been… what, sixteen years? And… about your kid—"
"Yeah, uh… about that," Rioran interrupted quickly. He looked away, staring at the fire. "He's not mine. Not by blood, anyway."
Rodel sat forward so fast the chair creaked. "Wait, what?"
Rioran rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "His mom died holding him. He was fine. I just… kept him. Figured I'd look after him till I couldn't anymore. Guess that turned into, you know… raising him."
Rodel leaned back again, still wide-eyed. "So you just… picked up a baby in the middle of a war?"
"Pretty much. Better than leaving him there." Rioran's voice softened. "Honestly, he saved me more than I saved him."
Rodel exhaled, long and slow. "Alright… so how did you two actually survive?"
"Blacksmith's shop," Rioran said simply. "It was wrecked, but I had tools. Built this leg there. Ate whatever didn't make us sick. Trained until I stopped falling over every two steps."
"Sounds miserable."
"Yeah, but builds character, right?" Rioran gave a crooked grin. "Kid helped too — Aelar was curious about everything. Sent him scavenging sometimes. He's sharp. Learned fast."
"You did well," Rodel said. "Any regrets?"
"Not a single one," Rioran said without hesitation. "Sixteen years with him? Best thing I've ever had. But… it's time. The world's not gonna wait, and it's not safe. I brought him here so he'd be ready."
Rodel nodded slowly. "Are you gonna tell him the truth?"
"Eventually," Rioran muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Just… not today. Not if I can help it."
"Secrets don't age well," Rodel warned. "Sooner's better."
Rioran met his eyes, steady now. "Then promise me — guide him. Train him. I need to go home. Padayan."
"No hesitation — of course," Rodel said. Then, with a faint smirk, "But if the boy turns out smarter than you, I'm taking all the credit."
"Ha. If he turns out smarter than me, that's because I trained him."
"Sure," Rodel said dryly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Rioran let out a short laugh, relief written all over his face. "Thanks, Rodel. Really. I owe you one."
"I'll write it down," Rodel teased. "Big list at this point." He grew serious again. "Ship leaves tomorrow."
"Good. I'll slip out before dawn," Rioran said, rising. His metal leg gave a soft click as it adjusted. "And… say goodbye to him for me, yeah? I'm not good at that part."
"Coward," Rodel muttered with a grin.
"Yep. But a clever coward," Rioran shot back.
Meanwhile, Aelar was busy scrubbing his room like it was an exam he could fail. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he muttered about splinters in his broom.
"A clean space means a clear mind," he recited, rolling his eyes.
Still, when he looked around at the spotless floor, he smiled a little. Yeah. He'd be proud of this. Even if he pretends not to notice.