Prophecy of Axain

Chapter 8

Seth choked down another spoonful of gruel. It was as cold as the absence of conversation at the breakfast table. He sat next to Brock; his adoptive Father couldn't even look at him. Tears ran down Sally's cheeks into her lumpy meal. He tore his eyes away from her and bore them into his wooden bowl. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I stayed out all night."

"It's okay," Sally said before bursting out into another round of tears. Unable to control herself, she rushed to the master bedroom.

Brock cocked an eye at Seth. "I believe that you're sorry, but that doesn't cover it." He leaned towards Seth. "We sacrificed everything for you, even our own lives, and you nearly pissed it all away."

"But . . . I . . ." Seth's heart hit the floor. Brock was right, kind of. When he saw their camp, all he could think about was accomplishing his mission and coming back a hero. Was it smart for three teenagers to take on several Darkstrider knights? No, no way. Pride; his pride nearly got Ellis and Jena killed. Maybe he wasn't ready for this yet.

Brock glared at Seth. "Well? Spit it out already."

Seth tried to look at him, but he couldn't. "Don't you at least want to hear what happened?" He glanced down at the pocket that held the letter Seth had liberated the night before. As if it gave him a burst of courage, he looked right into Brock's eyes. "Don't you want to know why we were out so late?"

Brock stared at the welts on Seth's right cheek. "Do I?"

The indifference ran through Seth's soul like a spear. Did Brock even care that his adopted son found the enemy, subdued one, and stole a copy of their orders? Did Brock even care that his adopted son had proof that his petty little group was already infiltrated by the Darkstriders? Seth's face reddened. Yeah, Brock should care, if he was a true leader and not some wannabe knight, unlike his real father. If his real father were here, Seth would have been greeted with pats on the back, not a slap in the face. His eyes wandered over towards the master bedroom door. What about Sally? She was always there for him and—he needed Brock to find those bastards who hurt her.

"Well?" Brock asked.

Seth swallowed. "We found them."

"Who?"

"The Darkstriders' camp."

Brock's eyes narrowed. "You what?" Veins started to pop out on his forehead.

Sweat rolled down Seth's back. "We found their camp. There were a lot of Dark Elf knights there."

"Why didn't you come back and tell us?" Brock demanded. "We could have done something about it."

"We hid and waited until there was only one left," Seth said. "We knocked him out and looked around the camp."

Brock's jaw tightened.

"After that, we left," Seth said.

"What about the Dark Elf? What did you do to him?" Brock asked.

Seth shook his head. "Nothing. We left him there. I—"

Brock punched Seth square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. "How could you? Now, all of them know exactly what and who to look for!"

Seth shook off the buzzing in his head. "What? I thought you would be proud of me!"

"For what? Endangering your family? Jena and Ellis? For nothing!" Brock leaped from the chair and headed towards the door. "I was wrong. You're not like your father, not at all." He slammed the door behind him.