Interlude: Aftermath and an Act

The gale gradually died down. A feeble breeze lifted a few handfuls of bloodstained, dirty snow and scattered them into the air. Red and white mingled in a desolate sight.

Crunch.

Boots pressed into the snow. A few flecks shook loose from Hornard's clothes and fell onto Delis's shriveled, headless body.

Hornard lowered his head and silently stared at the gray hoodie on the corpse.

The snow melted into the blood, soaking the fabric. Spreading damp patches darkened the already somber cloth further. One patch ran down the back and stopped at a long bulge along the side before slowly spreading outward.

—The bulge was a Melodica tucked into the hoodie's side pocket.

Hornard closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He tried to feel the biting cold, to savor its sting, but the lingering melody Delis had played on the Melodica would not stop sounding in his ears.

Delis was dead. Thoughtful, kindhearted Delis was dead.

His son had gone missing, and now his daughter was dead too. He was all alone.

Loss and pain pressed on his chest like a lump of lead.

"Master, look! There are so many people over there!" The steward's anxious voice pulled Hornard back to his senses.

Hornard raised his head in a daze. Beneath the golden sunlight, he saw Xia Lun and the dozen or so ragged people following close behind him.

He narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze across the crowd. Then he froze.

A sturdy young man followed close behind Xia Lun. He was staring back at Hornard, equally stunned.

"Horn?"

"Dad!"

Hornard's eyes widened in disbelief. A moment later, he threw open his arms and ran toward his son. Horn rushed to meet him.

Father and son embraced tightly, weeping with joy.

"Dad, I thought—I thought you'd