the beginning after the end perfect duo

Arthur's Sacrifice

REYNOLDS POV

We were standing guard outside, a strong, well-practiced line: Adam, Durden, Jasmine, me, and the kids. The days were rolling by, and the landscape of our journey seemed both familiar and alien. It had been a little over a week since we set off on this trip, and time seemed to stretch and twist in strange ways out here. My boy, Art, had been spending time teaching the twins—Tom and the girl with the horns—some movement techniques, a challenge even for him, but his focus was unmatched. Meanwhile, Tom, ever the diligent one, had been honing his physical strength and purifying his mana core.

I watched the two of them, both so different, yet so alike in their potential. Tom was the calm, quiet one, but beneath that silence was an ocean of intellect and power. Art, on the other hand, was more dynamic, constantly in motion. His energy filled the air, and his magic was something else entirely, an extension of his body and soul. They were growing into something remarkable, something greater than I ever thought possible.

I was so proud of them, it almost hurt. They were already more talented and intelligent than I could ever claim to be. I could see it every time they practiced their magic, every time they learned something new. They could become the greatest mages Dicathen had ever known. They had the potential for greatness, and though I had no doubt in their abilities, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of responsibility for them. Was I doing enough to guide them? Was I preparing them for what lay ahead?

I was also expecting another child—my third. The thought filled me with hope. Was it to be a girl this time? I wanted so badly to have a girl. I imagined her, her laughter filling the house, her small hands grasping mine. I had two boys already, both capable and strong. A girl, though—she would be different. She would need protection, love, and guidance in a way that my sons already had.

"Father! Why are you so lost in thought? Do you want to share what's on your mind?" Tom's voice broke through my thoughts.

I smiled at him, always able to bring me back to the present. "Nothing, Tom. I was just wondering what's for dinner tonight."

"I was thinking the same thing," both Tom and Art replied at once, their voices synchronizing in a way that always amazed me.

"Like father, like sons," Adam said with a chuckle, his voice a deep rumble that echoed in the quiet.

At that moment, something unexpected happened. A volley of arrows shot toward us from the trees, cutting through the air like harbingers of doom. We didn't have time to react before Angela and Durden sprang into action, their magic flashing in the air as they intercepted the incoming projectiles with defensive shields. The twins—Tom and Art—were already in formation, their senses sharp, their magic primed for the fight. The battle was upon us.

I looked out at the shadows in the trees, my heart pounding as I assessed the situation. We were surrounded, at least twenty of them, maybe more. Bandits. I could see them now—scrappy, ragged individuals, armed to the teeth, their eyes glinting with malice.

I caught a glimpse of Helen as she reached for her bow, her movements fluid, instinctual. Jasmine drew her daggers, the twin blades gleaming as she twirled them in her hands, her expression one of calm readiness. She was always ready, always composed, but even she couldn't hide the tension in her stance.

I glanced back at my boys. They had been training for this moment, and now it was time to see how well they had learned. But there was something more to this fight. It wasn't just our lives at stake anymore. I had a family to protect now. I had to keep them safe, no matter the cost. My boys—Art, Tom—they were my responsibility, my everything. I couldn't afford to lose them.

"Art, Tom, stay close to your mother. You have to protect her," I shouted, my voice firm but full of urgency. "I depend on you."

"Got it, Father," Art said, his voice full of resolve. Tom nodded in agreement, his usual calm demeanor unshaken.