Misbegotten world

Chapter 4: Son and father

In his first year under the dominion of the grey snows, he supplied them with armor and weapons. As they came to collect their goods, they donned his creations, even using the very armor and weapons he had crafted for himself when illness had prevented him from forging. He kept only his greatsword and a ring of lordship, symbols of his knighthood and honor. As months passed, the grey snows began to intrude upon his cabin.

Despite his warnings, they forced their way in, spewing threats and foul language. They were unaware of his wife's presence, knowing only of his two sons. Whenever they visited, his sons assisted him in delivering the forged items. Unfortunately, the grey snows eventually caught the scent of a woman.

During one of their visits, they barged into the cabin. He hid his wife each time they came to collect. They sat at his table, consuming the food he had hunted the night before in preparation for an approaching snow blizzard. Hunting would be impossible once the blizzards raged across the northern lands.

He could do nothing but let them have their way. Although he was a knight capable of besting fifteen men with ease, he chose restraint. He prioritized his family over engaging in bloodshed.

He gestured to the grey snows, signaling if they had finished eating and urging them to leave at once. At first, they remained silent, casting keen glances around the cabin. The scent of a woman lingered strongly in the air. They did not leave. Breaking the silence, the chieftain spoke in broken Sofiar tongue, surprising the aging knight. "Where is woman? I smell woman," the chieftain demanded, his words poorly constructed but clear in their intent.

As many moons passed, he developed a rudimentary sign language to communicate with the grey snows. They quickly adapted to this form of communication. One day, when tensions were high and hearts raced with anxiety, he gestured to inform them that one of his sons had a fondness for creating his own scents using ointments, herbs, and flowers.

The chieftain, skeptical, approached the boys who had just turned sixteen. Taking a long, scrutinizing look at one of them, he spoke in broken Sofiar, "You lie."

Silence filled the cabin until the boy, in a burst of courage, tackled the chieftain to the ground and reached for a small knife on the table used by the grey snow warriors to eat their provisions.

The aging father, realizing the gravity of the situation, shouted in clear Sofiar to his second son, "Get my greatsword and run with your mother!" The boy sprinted to the basement where his mother was hiding, retrieving the greatsword. They fled through a tunnel the father had painstakingly dug every night, leading to a river that would guide them to their second cabin.

At this hidden refuge, a horse and armor forged from dragon scales awaited them, prepared for the escape. The father had taught his sons daily how to fight like knights, even when outnumbered.

As the day of reckoning arrived, he knew that both he and his eldest son would perish, but they would ensure the safety of their loved ones. The day had indeed come, and they stood ready to face their fate.