Old Festering Wounds

Erickson leaned back, enjoying the attention and curiosity from his son.

Avond could see it on his face—the giddy expression he was trying so hard to conceal, only to fail miserably as his lips bloomed into a rare, simple, toothless smile.

"Why. Why, oh why, indeed," Erickson said, his gaze falling on the tea in front of them. And then, slowly, his expression faded into sadness—the look of someone who was hurt underneath it all.

"What happened between you and Jordan? I knew you weren't always on good terms with him, but was there a time when you two were close?" Avond asked, his eyes carefully studying Erickson's face as he looked up.

Erickson nodded. "Yes, that's true. There was a time when we were close. So close that I saw him like he was my brother."