The festivities were interrupted by the sound of a deep horn, its somber note echoing across the city.
The sonorous horn blared once, then twice,and then a third time.
Almost instinctively, Morgan instinctively turned his gaze to the distant gates.
"Father..."
His mouth moved on its own, whispering the word.
Morgan froze.
His eyes widened slightly. He blinked, then bit down on the inside of his cheek, until the sharp metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
The word lingered in the air, unmistakably foreign yet every so wistfully familiar.
The sharp pain brought a sense of clarity.
"Father? I don't have a father unless..."
His breathing grew shallow, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
His pulse quickened.
Something stirred in the depths of his mind.
For a brief moment, Morgan felt a powerful gaze peer back at him from within the depths of his mind.
The sensation lasted a mere instant before vanishing almost entirely but it left behind an unmistakable certainty.
