Chapter Twenty-Two: Home Sweet Home

Father Escobar walked inside the front door. Giving a sigh, he was exhausted. Walking forward, he looked around, then stopped and peered at the painting on his wall. Then he heard rushed footsteps coming down the stairs. Going to greet them, he saw, "Sarah!" His daughter leapt up into his arms.

"Daddy!"

He caressed her hair, "How was your day sweetheart?"

She dropped down and tapped her chin, "It was fine," she sounded disappointed.

"What's wrong," Francis Escoabr had knelt to her eye level.

"Well daddy,I want to help you fight those heathens," she kicked her foot against the ground.

"Sarah we spoke of this already, your ten. No is no."

"But I-"

"But nothing," he kissed her forehead and stood, "Who's daddy's little girl?"

She smiled, "Me!"

He rubbed her head, "Now go, your friends were outside calling for you."

She ran out.

Coming around the corner, it was his wife. "Look who decide to return from his holy duties," she said sarcastically.

"Shush my love, fake or not, Jesus is our guide."

She chuckled, "Well if he said this family was to die for him, would you?"

"Never," Francis said loudly, "I love both you and Sarah, and I wouldn't let you be sacrificed."

"Even if it ment those heathens go on?"

"Yes, even if."

Later that night, Francis felt a burning sensation in his heart. In bed with his wife, he smoothed out her hair, got out of bed, tossed on a white robe, and went outside. Taking a stroll around town, he looked around and about. I must protect them from those...heathens. Walking by him were two drunk men. The two had swung themselves onto his shoulders.

"Hey...man," the man in red was slow in reaction, "Can we get summmm money?"

The other fellow practically was close enough to kiss father on his lips. "HEY!...nice robe daddy," he feel backwards.

Francis ripped his shoulder from the man in red and walked on, "Disgusting filth." Finishing his stroll, he ended up at a small shop, this was my dads. It was an blacksmith's place. His father was a fine blacksmith, but was ultimately killed by an elven archer, but atleast he died quickly. Thinking back, he wished his mother would left Francis, she could've ran, escaped, but when they caught up to her,they tortured her to death, all because she wouldn't tell them where he was hiding. From that bush, I lost my mother. Looking for me, they used his father as bait, alas, he wished to let him live, so a bow to the head he took. Francis shook his head. Filth, they need to disappear. He went back home, opening and closing the door quietly, so neither of his girls awoke from their slumber. Going back upstairs, he decided to give Sarah a goodnight kiss. Peering in, slowly opening the door, he saw her using light magic to read a book. "Sarah sweety, whatcha doing?"

She looked at Francis, "I want to help you fight the heathens one day," she showed him the book, "So I asked the book keeper if I could borrow this book, learn powers to help,"she shouted, but also manage to keep in a low tone.

Studying her face, he knew she had her mind set up. "Then I wish you luck," he leaned in, kissed her on the forehead and went to the door, "But don't skip school," he pointed at her.

"I won't," she rolled her eyes as he closed the door.

"I'll rid this world with those heathens soon, so you don't have to fight," he clenched his fist tightly, the released.