Aleister khalifa(1)

The sun had begun to set behind the dense trees of Blackwood when Sebastian heard the sound of wagon wheels creaking through the thick underbrush. His sharp eyes caught movement in the distance, and then he heard voices—unfamiliar men approaching their hidden cottage.

"Father, someone is here to see you," Sebastian called out, his voice steady but cautious.

Sir Frederick stood up from his wooden chair, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his pistol. He knew their location was well hidden—only those who dared venture deep into the dangerous side of the woods would find it. That meant whoever these men were, they had either come by accident... or with purpose.

When the three men finally stepped forward into the clearing, Sir Frederick's eyes narrowed. Two of them were covered in thick robes, their weapons hidden beneath the heavy fabric. The third man, however, stole Frederick's breath away.

It was an old servant of his—one who had once stood loyal at his side.

"You... you're alive," Sir Frederick muttered, almost unable to believe it.

The man, his face worn by time and hardship, nodded with a heavy heart. "I barely escaped, my Lord. For years, we searched for you. The countryside is filled with rumors—some say you ran from battle, others believe you were slaughtered in the great massacre. Many thought you had been captured and imprisoned in your own mansion. No one truly knew what happened to you."

Sir Frederick remained silent, his expression unreadable. He had sacrificed everything to protect his family, but now his past was catching up to him.

Then, one of the hooded men spoke. "Khalifa is growing old, but you must know—he has a son."

The words sent a shock through Sebastian. He was about to ask for the name when he noticed his father's tense expression. The change in Sir Frederick's demeanor was enough to silence him. He didn't need to ask. Whoever this son was, he was dangerous.

The men spoke in hushed voices as they ate a warm meal prepared by Petrova, the delicious scent of roasted vegetables and broth filling the room. The night was unusually quiet, a heavy silence settling over the small cottage.

By dawn, the men were preparing to leave, and Sebastian was tasked with leading them out of the woods. As they walked, they spoke of how Khalifa ruled Blackwood Town with an iron grip.

"He is a fierce opponent," one man said. "A monster in the eyes of many."

Another added, "But the people still whisper about you, Sir Frederick. They wonder how a man of such strength produced a son like this one." He glanced at Sebastian, his expression one of admiration and disbelief.

Sir Frederick gave a weary nod. "My son is strong, but strength alone is not enough. He still has much to learn."

Sebastian remained quiet. His father rarely praised him, but when he did, it carried great weight.

Later that morning, Carolina approached her husband with a concern.

"We are running low on food," she said softly. "We need to go to the Blackwood market."

Sebastian's eyes lit up. He had never been to Blackwood before. For years, he had only known the forests—the rustling leaves, the whispering wind, the silent trails of the hunt. But now, he would finally see the town his father had warned him about.

Though part of him was thrilled, another part knew this journey would not be as simple as buying food.

Sir Frederick prepared him carefully. He dressed Sebastian in a dark English coat, fitted for a warrior. Two pistols were tucked into the fabric, hidden but ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

As he fastened his belt, his father placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Remember your training. Be fearless."

Sebastian gave a sharp nod. "I won't forget."

His younger sister, Petrova, was also set to join them. She had never left the woods either, and her excitement was evident. She was beautiful, graceful in a way that made people turn their heads. But she was also wise, with a sharp mind that could read people's intentions instantly.

The siblings walked together, stepping over dry leaves as they made their way toward town.

Blackwood was more breathtaking than they had imagined. The stone roads were lined with market stalls, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and spiced meat. People bustled about, exchanging coins, haggling over goods.

Sebastian and Petrova took their time exploring. For the first time, they felt free.

But freedom was short-lived.

A group of young men loitered near a weapons stall. One of them noticed Petrova immediately. His eyes widened as he studied her face, then turned to a taller man beside him.

"Sir Aleister," he whispered. "You must take a look at this beauty."

The mention of the name made Sebastian's heart freeze.

Sebastian barely had time to react before the cruel man approached them. He was tall, strong, and radiated an aura of power. His eyes darkened as he circled Petrova like a predator sizing up its prey.

Sebastian instinctively stepped in front of his sister.

Aleister smirked. "What's this?" His voice was cold. "Step aside, boy. I'd like to speak to the lady."

Sebastian's hand tightened around his pistol. "She is not here to entertain the likes of you."

A ripple of shock spread through the crowd. No one spoke to Aleister like that. No one dared.

Aleister's men immediately drew their weapons, but he lifted a hand, signaling them to stop. He wasn't finished playing with his prey.

"You must be new here," Aleister said, his voice laced with amusement. "You don't seem to know who I am."

Sebastian held his ground. "I don't care who you are. Leave, and I'll let you walk away in one piece."

Laughter erupted from Aleister's men. The audacity!

Aleister's smirk vanished. His eyes burned with something dangerous, deadly.

For a moment, he simply stared at Sebastian.

This man—this stranger—was unlike anyone he had met before. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't begging for mercy, he wasn't lowering his gaze.

Aleister's fingers twitched near his belt. Would he draw his pistol? Would he fight?

The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. The crowd watched in anticipation.

But then, Aleister's lips curled into a sinister grin.

"I like you," he said slowly. "But you've made a mistake. And I promise you, you will regret it."

Sebastian didn't flinch.

Neither did Petrova.