Chapter 26: Preparing for the Journey — The Promise to Faye

The cabin was still, the fire's soft crackle the only sound within its wooden walls.

Kratos sat silently on the bench, elbows on his knees, hands clasped as though holding something fragile between them. His eyes, however, stared into the flames, far away in thought.

Leonidas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp gaze flicking between his father and Atreus, who sat by the bed — the one that had belonged to Faye.

Atreus was quiet, small hands in his lap, eyes cast downward but filled with sadness that was impossible to hide.

Finally, Kratos stood, his massive form looming in the dim glow of the firelight.

"We leave… at dawn," he said, voice gruff and low, as if each word weighed on him like a boulder.

Atreus looked up, startled.

"Leave? But where, Father?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

Kratos turned toward the window, looking out at the falling snow, his expression unreadable.

"Your mother… wanted her ashes spread from the highest peak in the realms."

The room was heavy with that declaration. It was the first time Kratos spoke her final wish aloud.

Leonidas took a deep breath. Even though he had sensed this day would come, hearing the words made it real.

"Then we will do it," Leonidas said firmly, breaking the silence, stepping forward. "For her."

Kratos glanced at his elder son. There was a moment of shared understanding between them — a moment of unity in grief.

"For her," Kratos echoed, nodding slightly.

Atreus looked between them, a glimmer of resolve beginning to form behind his sadness.

"For Mother."

—

The hours that followed were spent in quiet preparation.

Kratos moved methodically, checking supplies — food, furs for warmth, sharpening the axe. His movements were precise, controlled, yet Leonidas could sense the tension radiating from his father's back.

Leonidas himself prepared his sword, running a whetstone along the blade's edge, checking the enchantments he had painstakingly inscribed over the past months. His hands were steady, but inside, thoughts swirled.

"This journey… it will not be simple. I can feel it. The realms will not remain silent."

Still, he did not speak these doubts aloud.

Atreus sat on the bed, quietly fletching arrows, careful as Leonidas had taught him. His young face was set in concentration, though his eyes would sometimes wander toward where his mother's axe had rested on the wall — now in Kratos' possession.

—

As night fell, Kratos stood before the hearth, holding the small pouch containing Faye's ashes. His fingers curled tightly around it, as though letting go would make it all real.

Leonidas approached, stopping just a pace away.

"You think we are ready?" he asked quietly.

Kratos was silent for a long moment before answering.

"No."

Leonidas nodded slowly.

"But we will do it anyway."

Kratos looked at him then, his hard gaze softening just enough for Leonidas to see the sorrow behind them.

"We will."

—

Later, when Atreus had gone to sleep, Leonidas stepped outside the cabin, staring at the night sky. The moon hung high, its pale light casting long shadows over the snow-covered ground.

He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching inward, feeling the power of his template, feeling the presence of the demons bound to him — silent and obedient, waiting for his command.

"I promised to protect them both. And now, we go into the unknown."

Opening his eyes, he looked up at the stars.

"Mother... I will see this done."

—

Inside, Kratos sat by the fire, speaking quietly to Faye — as if she were still there.

"You said he wasn't ready," Kratos muttered, glancing toward Atreus' sleeping form. "But neither am I."

His hand tightened around the pouch.

"Still… we will do this. I will see it done."

The fire crackled, its glow softening the hard lines of his face as he stared into its depths.

"For you."

—

Morning would soon come. And with it, the beginning of a journey that would change all their fates.