Eveline looked at the boy standing silently beside her, his small body trembling under the dim moonlight. His face was still wet with the remnants of tears, his cheeks smudged with dust and ash. She knelt, lowering herself to Thalion’s level. “Thalion, do you have any siblings?” she asked gently. The boy shook his head slowly, his swollen eyes staring blankly at the ground as if the world around him had broken apart. Kaelus drew a deep breath; the cold night air felt like a heavy weight on his chest. He knelt beside Thalion, his gaze fixed on the boy in an unusual way. “From now on, call me Uncle,” he said softly, his voice firm yet warm. “I am your uncle, and you will come with me.”

  Thalion seemed hesitant. His large eyes studied Kaelus with a mixture of bewilderment and fear, as if trying to grasp the meaning behind the man’s words. Eveline, seeing his doubt, smiled warmly. She placed her gentle hand on Thalion’s shoulder, offering a small warmth in the cold night. “You are not alone anymore, Thalion. We will look after you.” After a long moment of silence, accompanied only by the whisper of night wind through the leaves, Thalion finally nodded faintly. That simple motion felt like the point where a shattered world began, slowly, to be rebuilt. Kaelus took his hand firmly; his rough but caring fingers gripped the small hand and helped him into the carriage.

  Once inside, Thalion’s small body could no longer bear the weight of grief and exhaustion. He fell asleep in Eveline’s lap, breathing soft and even, though his shoulders sometimes twitched with the echoes of restrained sobs. Eveline stroked his hair gently, trying to impart a warmth words could not convey. Kaelus, sitting opposite them, watched the boy with eyes full of meaning. At last he spoke, his voice low and laden with thought. “His father was an Aurelion soldier.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Eveline lifted her face, her brows knitting slightly. “How can you be certain?” Kaelus leaned back in his seat, staring out the window that reflected their shadows in the night. “The sword,” he said softly, “that sword was forged by Aurelion smiths. Perhaps he bought it, perhaps he found it. But an ordinary man could not have held off eight bandits alone.” Eveline fell silent, letting Kaelus continue. “If he was a former soldier and married an elf, this tragedy begins to make sense,” he added in a voice barely above a whisper. “People like them have no place in a world torn by war.”

  Eveline inhaled slowly, her gaze returning to the sleeping Thalion. After a moment’s quiet, she asked, “Then how did Thalion survive while everyone else died?” Kaelus glanced at the boy in Eveline’s lap, then whispered, “I don’t know for sure. But the bandit closest to his mother had only dagger wounds on his body. The other one—his corpse was full of stab wounds, though his body bore many other injuries as well.” His eyes fell to the dagger sheathed at Thalion’s waist. “Possibly, that man was already gravely wounded, and Thalion finished him. But the one near his mother… I don’t know how this child could have killed him.”

  Eveline looked at the boy longer, her hand instinctively smoothing his hair as if trying to erase the traces of sorrow clinging to each strand. “That is why I adopt him,” Kaelus continued, his voice soft but resolute. “This child is gifted. If not properly cared for, his mind could break. He must grow up with the right guidance to leave this trauma behind.” He looked Eveline straight in the eye, his gaze honest in a way rarely shown. “I am an orphan too. I know how hard it is to survive alone. I could not bear to see this child live like that… especially in a war this terrible.”

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  But simply reading and enjoying this tale is more than enough—I am already deeply grateful.