Nether Dao
There had been no warning. No spine tingling sensations or gut feeling. It had just happened.
His parents had had a fight. No, it was not the kind of word exchange fight that mundane parents have that sometimes lead to divorce.
No, it was the earth-shattering fight to the death between two enemies. If his maternal uncle and paternal grandmother had not intervened, his parents might have killed each other.
He had watched his father, the stern but affectionate father who had kissed his head the night, who had never secluded himself for more than three days since he was born stared at his mother with killing intent and a bloodied sword.
His mother who always entered the kitchen to cook his meal had just walked away.
Lyle had run up to her as fast as he could, his heart pounding. He held her robes and looked at her with a questioning gaze. He did not know what was going on and he wanted her to carry him and console him.