The Man At The Gates

[ALANOR]

He needed to say goodbye. He needed to get his closure, but where was he even supposed to start from when there was no trace of life in this forest? Looking around him, Alanor saw nothing. Devastated, he walked around before seeing an older man at the gates of the forest.

He looked a little over eighty and wore a look that Alanor couldn't help but wonder what it was. there was something about his man, something that made him want to go on and lean on him. This man was probably all the hope that Alanor Wynter needed.

However, that was just impossible right now. Alanor ad lost his parents because of the King, and from what he was seeing, it seemed like the people of Udrad had taken part in it. But what if they hadn't? then again, there was no point in him having hope when everything was slowly fading.

"Excuse me, sire, do you know where they took my parents? Which dog station were the Wynter bodies taken to?" Alanor asked the old man at the forest gates. The young Wynter may have been tired from all the pain, but he wasn't about to give up.

He needed to know whether his parents had already been completely devoured or not. He needed to know. And if he had to go back into Udrad to find his parents, Alanor Wynter would. He didn't mind the consequences, he didn't care that the king would want his head on a spike.

He would get his parents no matter what happened.

Ashes or no ashes, they were his family.

His people.

During the trials, Alanor had told himself he couldn't look away. He would watch everything down to the last bit. It would fuel his desire to find out what had happened to his parents. It would be the constant reminder that his parents had been innocent and Udrad had taken their lives.

It was unfortunate that he had fallen asleep, but even then, he would get answers.

Udrad left him an orphan, and Alanor wouldn't forget that.

The old man was about to lock the entrance to the lycan kingdom because he had thought that Alanor had died out there. And instead of having the kid fed to dogs, he hoped that someone would find him and give him a decent burial.

Funny how that was already a predetermined fate for the young Wynter.

However, now that he was awake, the old man didn't know what to tell him. The young boy looked so lost. He looked desperate, with his tears still subconsciously flowing and his eyes swollen. Maybe he could give him the truth. That was better than lying to the young boy and giving him false hope.

And so he did.

Told him the truth that would hurt him for more years than he would fathom.

However, that was better than having nothing to remind him of his home

"Your parents are buried in the farthest end of the southern forest my child, be careful though, there are hounds there, and they may not take kindly to you going into their territory," the old man said to Alanor, gently cupping the child's face like he was wishing the kid all the best.

He seemed to know something, but he couldn't tell it to the young child.

"Tha— Thank you, sir. May the stars grant you a long life" Alanor said before bowing and walking away from the man.

However, the man stopped the young Wynter, like there was still more to the kid that he needed to tell him. Alanor wasn't sure if it was a good idea but the man had told him where his parents were. So he was going to give the man the same courtesy.

"Alanor Wynter."

"What is it, sire?" The hopeless kid asked the old man, his quiet voice barely being heard. If they hadn't both been lycans, it would have been difficult to know what the kid was talking about. There was so much pain already.

"Don't be sad too long my child. There is nothing you can do for them right now. You have to mourn, but don't mourn your whole life, child. Go out there, go to Greroth, I have two friends expecting you, Criselda and Heide.

"Tell them that 'he who must not be named' sent you. They will know what you mean. And they will take you in. When you get to Greroth, train yourself. Learn to be strong. And when you're ready, come back to Udrad, I will be waiting" The old man said, making the child wonder who this was.

It was creepy that the first person who talked to him after the murder of his parents was a man who wanted to save the young Wynter's life. The alarms should have blared off, but unlike all the other times, this time, none went off.

For some reason, however, Alanor trusted him. Maybe because this was the first person who didn't look at him with spite, or maybe because this man was also the only person who seemed to care about him. But could Alanor trust him?

Could Alanor trust a complete stranger who held the keys of his home but seemed to not want to let him back in Udrad?

And even if the old man changed his mind, was he supposed to trust anyone in Udrad again?

The Lycans had betrayed his family. They had done the unthinkable. They had given him a scar that would last forever and certainly, Alanor was never going to forget it. Not in this life, and definitely not in his future lives.

Even though the kid wanted to leave, he wanted to know more. Besides, his parents were already dead. They could wait a little longer. Hopefully, the hounds weren't already feasting on their bodies.

"Why?" Alanor asked angrily.

His parents were already dead, so why was he standing there offering him a hand when everyone had been condemning his family earlier? He wanted to lash out, but somehow, Alanor trusted this man.

What was it about the old man that he wanted Alanor to trust him? And who even told him that Alanor wanted anything to do with Udrad anymore?

"Why now, huh? Everyone watched what they did to my parents. They all knew it wasn't right, they knew my parents were innocent and instead of stepping up, instead f coming forward and challenging the trial, they all just stood there, stones in their hands.

"Why should I believe you after all the damage this kingdom has done? who's to tell whether you are just one of the king's spies? You are interested in me right now, because of how pitiful I look. You don't mean any of that.

"You are just like them, you take pride in making people suffer because it makes you feel good. You're here standing with the keys in your hands like it was the trophy of how many times you have locked the gates. maybe you're older and I shouldn't be ranting at you, but why now?"