Sins of the Father

Ambrose 1.

I watch from the heavens, a helpless observer as my son is placed on the cold, damp stone steps of Angel's Keep. The woman who has carried him and cared for him, she who was once my favorite mortal, struggles with the weight of her decision. With trembling hands, she covers his face, unable to bear the sight of his eyes as she betrays him one last time. I understand her reasons, yet I cannot help but feel a deep sense of anger and heartache. How could she abandon him like this?

As she walks away, her tears mix with the rain that falls from the dark, cloud-filled sky. The stormy night reflects the turmoil in my heart. I want to reach out, to comfort her and take my son into my arms, but I am powerless in this realm. All I can do is watch and hope that fate will be kind to him.

My son's cries pierce the night, a call for comfort and love that seems to fall on deaf ears. How can the people within the keep ignore such a heart-wrenching sound? And then, amidst the storm, I hear another cry – the unmistakable sound of a newborn's first breaths. It is then that I understand why the castle's inhabitants are preoccupied. A new life has entered the world, and their attention is focused on the miracle unfolding within their walls.

A door creaks open, and a man steps out into the rain. His garments of red and silver signify his noble status – he is undoubtedly the lord of this keep. It is curious that he would leave his wife and newborn child at such a crucial time. Perhaps he is not one to stomach the messier aspects of life, or maybe he senses the presence of my abandoned son just beyond the threshold.

As the lord approaches, he notices the small bundle on the steps. His eyes widen, a mix of surprise and concern, as he takes in the sight of my son – his golden hair matted against his forehead, his delicate features creased with distress. The lord hesitates for a moment before tenderly lifting the boy into his arms, and I am torn between gratitude and jealousy. Though I am glad to see my son rescued from the cold, dark night, I long to be the one to hold and protect him.

The man looks into my son's eyes, and I can see that he is captivated by their unique beauty – a blend of his mother's and my own, with flecks of silver shining like stars in a golden sea. In that moment, something passes between them – a connection, a bond that promises love and devotion. The lord speaks softly, his voice barely audible above the rain and the distant cries of his own newborn child.

"Be welcome, son. This is your home now. Come and meet your brother. You are loved here, my boy. Marcus Ambrosius. A fine name for a fine lad. Nothing can harm you now, so this I swear. Welcome home, Marcus."

I can only hope that this man, this stranger who has taken my son into his arms and his home, will keep his word. For if he fails to protect and cherish my boy, he will face the wrath of a god, and no on earth will save him from my vengeance. But for now, I watch and wait, my heart aching with love and longing for the child I cannot hold. And in the stormy darkness, I whisper a silent prayer that he will find happiness and safety in this new life.