“Home sweet home, eh, son?”

Fiel was finally putting his things down next to his bed, ready and eager to wash the stench of Orr off him.

“To me, maybe. This is not your home,” he scoffed.

Farrin’s features twisted in mock grief. “My only son… so eager to toss me out in the jungle, where rabid saurians and carnivorous flora may feast on my old bones… have you no heart?” He chuckled. “Are you that eager to see me leave, Fiel?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” The necromancer shrugged. “As much as I like having you around, Father… I do value my privacy. Besides, it’s about time you should return to Mo–”

A crackling at Fiel’s lapel. His guild communicator came to life with the voice of Pall Gilmore, the guild’s notary.

“Fiel? Have you returned? There’s a message for your father here, a raven just delivered it through the waypoint. From Hoelbrak. It says ‘Urgent’.”

Fiel and Farrin exchanged a look. They didn’t need to say anything. They both knew what it meant.

They barely had the time to set their packs down that they grabbed them again, and made a mad dash towards the guild’s waypoint, and after that, to Hoelbrak.

Author BluJ
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