Nox was lying on the dirty, bloodstained ground, clinging to his father's lifeless body like a child. He was in despair, falling to pieces.
His face was pressed against his father's blood-stained chest, arms wrapped tightly around him, as if holding on could somehow bring him back. He hated the person who had taken his father's will away, and he hated himself just as much for dealing him the final blow. He could feel the warmth leaving his father's body, fading little by little, until only the cold remained.
Every cell in his body screamed. It was hard even to name his emotions, anger, sorrow, probably both. But there was also bitter disappointment. Disappointment in himself. Nox blamed himself for not returning home sooner, for not being able to say goodbye the way he had wanted to.
Karn's father's face was still, expressionless. His jaw, usually set with quiet strength, now hung slack. The familiar scent of leather and sweat still clung to him, but it was fading fast, overtaken by the iron stench of blood. His calloused hands, the ones that had taught Nox to grip a blade, were limp and stained red. And eyes, once sharp and steady, always watching, always reading the room, were glassy and open, staring at the sky.
But Nox wasn't focused on that. He seemed distant, almost absent, as though a wall had dropped between him and the world. He couldn't accept that the warmth had left his father's skin, or that the strength he'd always leaned on was gone.
Nox's thoughts returned again and again to the last person his father had spoken about: Abram.
It was a name spoken with weight, like a message, like a plea.
Abram. His little brother. There had been a time when Nox would ruffle his brother's hair in annoyance, trying to stop him from clinging to Nox like a shadow. But deep down, he had always loved Abram fiercely. He was protective of him. Proud of him.
His father hadn't said "he's gone." He had said "Your Brother..." with intent. As if he were entrusting Nox with something. A final mission.
Even in the depths of despair, that single truth anchored him. If Abram was still alive, Nox had a purpose. Whoever had taken him from the estate would live to regret it.
He didn't even notice when Torven knelt quietly beside him. He didn't rush him, didn't speak. He simply stayed, unmoving like a statue, his face hard as stone. Yet in his eyes, there was pain, and maybe, somehow, a sense of relief. Perhaps even gratitude that at least Nox was still alive. Anyone seeing Torven from the side would have seen a tormented traveler: dirty, unshaven, clearly exhausted after many days in the saddle.
But Nox saw none of this. His heart was elsewhere.
A long time passed before Nox began to calm down, and even then, he would still break into sobs.
They remained in the courtyard until dawn. No one could say how many hours had passed. Nox seemed lost, his face buried against his father's lifeless body. Only when the first drops of rain began to fall did Torven rise, slowly, as if afraid to disturb the silence. Carefully, he reached out and tried to lift him. Nox didn't resist, he let himself be moved, limp as a broken doll.
Torven carried him back into the house, leaving his father's body behind in the courtyard. Nox drifted off to sleep in his arms before he even reached the building. As soon as he stepped inside, he kicked open the nearest door. 'The kitchen', he thought, and moved on. He opened a second door, which was just a storage room. Behind the third door, he found one of the bedrooms. Gently, he laid Nox on the bed, careful not to wake him, and then lay down beside him.
As the rain thickened outside, pattering softly against the roof and windows, the silence inside the room deepened. Nox lay curled on the edge of the bed, breathing unevenly, his body still trembling. For many hours after, Nox would wake from time to time, sobbing softly.
Each time, Torven would whisper, "Sleep. I'm here". He simply stayed, a silent warrior with an unreadable face, keeping watch. Time passed unnoticed as the room settled into quiet grief. Torven remained awake for a long while, eyes half-open, listening for the sobs, for the hitch in Nox's breath. Only when Nox's breathing evened out did Torven allow his own eyes to close, not from peace, but from pure exhaustion.
And so the two warriors, one broken, the other burdened, slept through the storm, not knowing what the next dawn would demand of them.
...
Nox woke with a jolt, heart pounding. He sprang from the bed, shouting:
"Father! Abram!"
The world swam with confusion. Then, slowly, the confusion faded, and he began to understand where he was. He was awake. The bed. The room. Torven. The silence. His father was dead. He had to set out immediately to search for his brother; there was no time to lose; Abram could be in danger.
"Calm down, wait," said Torven soothingly, stepping closer. "Before you go anywhere, listen to me," said Torven soothingly, stepping closer from the doorway. He had left the room earlier, but returned the moment he heard Nox's voice break the silence.
But Nox wasn't listening. Shaken, he was already pulling on his boots, his hands trembling. Torven stepped in front of him, grabbed his wrists, and gently but firmly pressed them to the mattress on either side of his body, waiting for Nox to calm down a bit.
Torven waited a moment, then knelt and began tying the boots for him.
"Just listen for a moment. First of all, I've looked around the estate. There's no sign of your brother. We need to think about how to find him, we need a plan."
Nox immediately noticed that Torven wasn't talking about him anymore. He said we, as if he planned to go with him. It wasn't just his burden anymore. Torven wasn't leaving him alone in this.
"Secondly," Torven continued, "we need to bury your father. I moved the body behind the building so it wouldn't lie in the courtyard. When you're ready, I'll help you."
At that, something inside Nox cracked, not completely, but enough to let the pain leak in.
He turned his head away, jaw clenched hard enough to hurt. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "How... how did you know what I needed to do?"
Torven hesitated, as if weighing something heavy.
"I promise I'll answer all your questions," he said softly. "Later tonight."
Nox nodded, and they eventually walked in silence to the back of the building, where, under the shade of a wooden awning, Karn's corpse laid still. Covered in a white sheet, gently folded at the corners.
Nox stopped, hesitating, but when Torven gently placed a hand on his shoulder, it gave him strength.
His breath trembled as he stepped forward, and they approached Karn's body together.
Nox's hands hovered over the sheet. He didn't want to do this. He wasn't sure he could. But eventually he forced himself to pull it back.
Karn's face stared up at him, pale and still.
Nox took in a sharp breath through his nose. No tears. Not yet. Just that tight feeling in his chest, like something had been clamped down hard around his ribs.
The memories came hard and fast, the screaming, the blood, and none of it felt distant. It was yesterday. And yet, beneath the pain, somewhere deep within the rawness, he knew he had to keep standing. He had to keep breathing. For Abram.
His father's body had been carefully cleaned and prepared. Nox could only guess it had been Torven's doing, but he didn't say anything.
Later that day, they dug a grave together behind the estate and laid Karn to rest. Nox looked around. The grave was the fourth. Next to it was that of his wife, and behind them, two belonging to their sons.
For a brief moment, a thought passed through his mind: I wonder if mine will be next. But he didn't say it aloud. He didn't say anything at all, he was sure that if he opened his mouth, something inside him would break.
So instead, he simply nodded to Torven, and the two of them returned to the house.
Torven moved around Nox's home as if he had lived there for years. He prepared a light meal for them both.
"Let's talk now," he said, not waiting for Nox's agreement.
"If you think I wanted to save you that night, when I found you on the hill... you're very wrong." He looked Nox in the eyes. "I didn't come to rescue you. You made me save you."