Seron's voice trembled as he took an unsteady step forward, "S-Son?"
Silvan turned slowly, his movements deliberate, his expression calm and detached. Yet there was something unnerving in the faint, bitter smile curling his lips as he locked eyes with his father.
The flicker of warmth in his son's gaze was still there, yet there was also a chilling emptiness he had never seen before.
"Father," Silvan said softly, his voice calm, yet carrying an undercurrent that sent a chill through the room, "I really wished we wouldn't see each other like this. But I suppose it was inevitable."
Seron felt a sharp pang in his chest, uneasiness stabbing at him like cold blades. He raised his hand slightly, his voice trembling as he said, "Son...please tell me this is not what I am thinking it is."
Silvan let out a low, weary sigh. His head tilted slightly as if lamenting a truth he could not change, "I am sorry, Father," he said, his tone heavy. "It is what it is."