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No one except an older sibling would know the burden of protecting the younger one. His mother always said for them to always take care of each other, to help his younger twin from being bullied as he was always such a high-spirited boy who just wanted to make friends and actually did better in that regard than Forte ever did, but couldn’t hold his tongue which led him to trouble. So it was by Forte’s own personal decision he would constantly watch over his younger brother, guiding him even if there wasn’t even a half an hour difference between them.
This didn’t stop him from teasing him of course, Assid was always an easy target to get the better of. The funniest ones were when Forte would tell him various ‘missions’ to do, where he would trick the other to do his chores whether it be cleaning or whatever else. It was always the funniest thing to see Assid go from uncomplicated small tasks like building nets to climbing trees, leading him up to cleaning with a towel and running across the floor only to realize he was doing his brother’s chores.
Forte had always had a way of leading Assid to whatever he wanted, before joining him to help him with the task. He would both recklessly and deliberately put himself up to ‘missions’ that his more calm and collected brother gave him. In truth, he couldn’t imagine a world without his twin brother.
One would always follow the other.
The nine-year-old boy with smooth silver hair carried home a carcass to butcher with his dad. After he put it on the table in the small shed at the back of the house, Forte let out a cool and confident laugh, shouting back to his twin who had now started to walk out of the forest carrying his own kill, “What’s keeping you? Did you trip?”
“Do-don’t – No I didn’t!” Assid barked back defensively.
“Then you got lost?” Forte smugly replied he was easy to rile up. “I’m not that hard to outrun. Aren’t you always running your mouth that you’re faster and stronger than me?”
The twin with the wild silver hair only mockingly mimicked Forte’s words in a snooty way furrowing his brows while he went towards the shed, while Forte went into the house opening the door.
He didn’t immediately pay attention to the smell of iron, each step of the wood creaked with his light weight. Maybe his parents went out to town to shop? The basket was also there too.
“It’s so quiet…” Forte spoke to himself aloud, raising his voice so he’d be audible but not loud enough to be scolded, and looking around as he looked around the house, his heart beginning to race. “Mom? Dad? Are you here?” The benches they sat at to eat next to the table were knocked over. The curtains were torn. The cast iron frying pan was lying upside down on the ground. Everything seemed … off. He couldn’t think of any logical conclusion, or rather he refused to see it. “
There was no answer when he had cautiously trodden towards the next room, his voice rising louder. The smell of iron was getting overwhelming and he felt the pit in his stomach growing. “Mom? Dad … ?” Everything in the room is in disarray, the modest collection of books knocked on the carpet mixed with the clothes are pulled from the shelves. He thought back to the room he previously was in: Was it like there too?
He clutched his vision orb reflexively.
Fear rose in his throat as beads of sweat began to form on his face.
The soles of his feet felt differently the moment he went into the room. His shoes were sticking to the wooden floor. Forte’s face blanched realizing what it was. “W-what is this…” It was spread out, seeping from – “Blood?!”
Acknowledging the unpleasant reality there, that he was doing his best to ignore. He couldn’t ignore the puddle, which made everything else appear before him.
Forte knew where to look and where the pool came from, following the trail it was right near a broken window, the afternoon sun shining on his parents who lay prone on the ground. Forte automatically rushed to them as he felt the bile coming up his throat, his anxiety spiking as he collapsed to his knees and crawled to get wake them up.
“Mom! Dad!” His voice cracked and was hoarse as he pushed over his father who was on his side, getting a glimpse at his face fully as he was now fully on his back.
His skin was turning purple and blue where he was lying, eyes rolled back and sinking into his skull, lips turning white aside from the red that stained his mouth and on the lower portion of his face framed by his dirty blonde hair. He looked down to see a horrific gash across his neck, the cut went deep and that looked like where much of came from. But there was more blood, and that was made clear by the crimson that soaked his shirt and the stumps of his hands. The old sword that he used for self-defense had somehow from that angle slid partially under the bed, red liquid staining the tip.
Out of instinct, he moved to his mother who was near the broken window – her hands caked with reddish-brown dried blood, flat on her face with the only way to tell who she was her wild silver hair still in its messy bun. Forte looked by looking at her fingers had long turned purple from the tips of them. There was a large puddle of blood beneath her body.
The boy on impulse flipped her over despite her weight, her body cooperated with how limp it was. He had to see her. He had to know –
They’re dead.
He let out a chilling scream and he couldn’t stop.
Assid didn’t want to immediately go into the house, expecting that Forte would be out soon with Dad to help them. He set up their kills properly on the table and for him to wait. He leaned against the wall, his arms propped on the back of his head and putting his foot flat against it. Forte always thought he was so cool with how he always had an answer to everything.
Then he heard screaming, which made him stumble. The other twin picked up the screaming but it sounded like Forte – that wasn’t like him. He never got so upset, not enough to do this. Something must have happened, he knew it as their connection of twins, he felt his blood run cold. Without any other thoughts, he immediately dashed into the house, noticing how messy it was, his feet loudly hitting the hardwood flooring as he ran into the room where his brother was bawling, “Forte?! What’s wrong?! Why are you –”
He wasn’t able to finish that sentence, he barely got a glimpse of what was going on in the room but he saw a lot of blood, and a broken window, and as his eyes drifted down – Forte ran out to push him down against the ground. Assid was seeing stars and spots before his eyes with the crash. His face which matched yours, was contorted and twisted with his eyelids red from the sobbing. Snot was coming out of his nose and he smelt vomit as he hyperventilated and screamed in his face to the point that he thought his voice would give out.
“They’re dead!”
The younger twin had to let those words sink in, tears forming in his eyes. “Wha-what?” No, this couldn’t be happening. They were supposed to get back from hunting and their father would help gut their kills at home, then they would cure the meat for them to have enough to eat for months.
Assid tried to push Forte off, but his brother once again slammed him down, keeping him pinned, squeezing his arms, and slamming him down while he hyperventilated.
“Forte –” Assid started to panic himself, terrified of his older twin brother – he never felt such physical strength from his brother even from their years of roughhousing with each other, “He-hey easy – you’re hurti–”
Hearing the voice, his brother’s hands were shaking at what he realized he was doing – as he let go. Finally rising up, his expression mortified while he slowly exhaled. The silence had returned, as a wave of calm came over him and he shakily whispered to himself with a distant voice and equally distant eyes. “Ah… You. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll handle this, I have it figured out.”
Spinning on the sole of his shoes, he walked back into the room and closed the door behind him.
Assid had a million thoughts race through his mind in that instant, he heard a scraping of wood before something thumped against the door. The brother outside the room was able to smell the blood from behind the door and tried to repeatedly ram his shoulder into it in desperation.
“Open the door!” He yelled out in desperation. There was nothing in response. Assid in desperation punched at the door, the crack of his fists reverberating throughout the house to which Forte did not bother to reply.
He got an idea.
Darting around the house, to the broken window, looking inside – Forte was doing his best to roll their parents, their bodies caked with blood and their faces long turned purple and blue from the ways they lied as they died, now the sheets he placed down by himself alone. The only way he could tell it was his mother’s face, was her two moles, one under her right eye and the other near her mouth.
His eyes had the same detached expression with glazed-over yellow eyes that terrified Assid when he went into the room by himself.
Without a single second thought, Assid climbed into the room where Forte stopped in his tracks stunned at what he was witnessing. The boy crashed to the floor accidentally getting the cloth of his pants leg caught on some of the stray shards of broken glass in the process. But Assid shook it off like it was nothing.
The older of the twins, exhausted from his now silent tears, let out an exasperated sigh. “To see your face here … You really are an imbecile.”
“Heh, says the guy who locked me out,” Assid forced a brittle toothy grin attempting to hide his grief, as they wrapped the bodies of their parents up together in the sheets. Twins always had to stay together.
His body couldn’t stop shaking, and it wasn’t from despair.
This was something they didn’t think never thought they would have to do so soon.
After burying their parents in a shallow grave, and piling rocks on top of them to avoid monsters from desecrating their corpses, the twins discussed what to do next. They decided to put their childhood game had changed now, they had a new set goal and mission. The hardest one they had to do together yet.
“Assid, do you think this is wise?”
“Wise? Hell no. Why are you asking me this, you’re the smart one. But what other choice do we have?”
“... Excellent point to make, for you I suppose. There isn’t any other choice but to go forward with this. We can only be grateful that they made it obvious.”
For the two, it wasn’t hard to figure out where the bandits ran off to. There was such a long trail of blood that Forte was positive that their parents were just overwhelmed, caught, and cornered when they weren’t ready to fight. Despite how horrifying it might have been for them, they put up a fight judging by the inconsistent red trail leading towards the town. The simple-minded fools were shameless and arrogant to go this route.
If the world knew their reasons for doing what they were planning, no one would cast their judgment on them if they knew the reasons.
The hideout was a rundown old house, with a rotting porch and decaying foundation. Although the trail led long evicted and uncared for most people on the side of this small town avoided it knowing full well of the shadiness of the place. At one point in time, the twins were the same as the people in the small town – but with the demise of their parents, their fates had changed.
Peering through the window, was a group of three bandits around a table, having a game of playing cards while sharing a drink that Forte recognized as a special wine for his parents that was unopened – they were waiting for their ten years of being together. But here it was, casually being poured for themselves as they laughed together at the only thing of value to them they managed to plunder.
They all wore bandanas on their heads, marking themselves as part of the same group all the same color of a dark navy almost black, one couldn’t be sure if it was the intended color or if it was faded from the elements.
One with brown hair peeking out from the sloppily placed bandana, a heavy set sort who had some haphazard bandages on his right arm while he chugged down the alcohol, it seeping out the side of his mouth and letting out a dignified burp with a roar of laughter from the other two in response. His face was red with some type of rash that made it look uneven and patchy.
The second one noted had a sharp angular face with a nose that had been cracked one too many times to the point it no longer seemed to match his face. His form was bony and as he cackled he showed his missing and yellowing rotting teeth.
The final one was the most massive, a man who had air and the presence of being the leader with how he was counting the gald he stole from the home he raided, with a smug expression painted on his face. He was clean-shaven and the muscles in his arms were bigger than the children’s heads which gave Forte internally an idea of what type of person they were dealing with.
Assid in barely contained rage gripped the hunting knife, gritting his teeth. Of course, it was a group of them, and for what? They had little, they had a modest living off the land itself, and lived outside of the small town. Their father built this house himself, and their mother helped grow their humble garden, can the food they grew in the garden where they would help her…
Twisting the handle of the blade, he was ready to attack seeing how smug they were before he felt the comforting familiar hand on his shoulder from Forte as if to wordlessly say ‘no’ – they had to go with what they came up with.
The plan was to lock them inside their shoddy house, then burn it to the ground with them inside of it while they were asleep at night. This gang of bandits terrorized the small town, as they have been trouble for as long as anyone could remember but it never escalated to what they just did earlier that day. There were only rumors up until this point they were responsible for break-ins – but no actual evidence or proof. But to claim they were popular or even beloved in the town would be far from the truth. This was just meant to assess the situation.
A dark judgmental thought crossed Forte’s mind: No one would miss them.
And as their laughter echoed as they were having a good Assid impulsively punched the wall of the rotten foundation, it was just a small thump but it was enough for the three to look up.
Forte looked at his brother in shock before shouting, heart racing at this thoughtless action. “What are you doing?! They might hear u–” Unable to finish what he was saying, the door slammed open, the boy was grabbed by the throat before he could finish the sentence and was thrown aside into the dirt road, where he tumbled and rolled gasping for breath. Assid sprung into action at this sight, jumping forward only to get the wind knocked out of him with an elbow to the gut from the stocky man with the injury, sending him falling from the old porch of the building.
The leader of the bunch scoffed, looking towards the bony one who followed him peering him out from the entranceway as stopped in the doorway, “Hey, wasn’t it yer job to get rid of the brats while we got rid of the parents?”
The smaller simpering one winced, “Well ya see, I have a good reason wh–”
“Ya lied about killing ‘em,” He let out an irritated breath from his nose, snorting up the snot so it dripped down his throat to spit it out of his mouth to the floor. “Which means we won’t be splitting the spoils with ya.”
He gave a slight nod to the stockier man who went into action taking out a crude rusty sword from his sheath, who strut up to the other to sink the weapon into the chest, cleanly between the ribs then sliced outward with his muscular arms sending the sniveling man with a gasp as his eyes widened in shock as he didn’t get even the time to scream, as the blade crudely stabbed into his throat for good measure, pulling it across with his strength, before leaving the blade in the neck. The pitiful man gurgled on his own blood as he collapsed to the ground, but to claim he was anywhere near life was only a formality.
Forte who was now coming to look on in terror at realizing what they were dealing with, knew these bandits were terrible, but witnessing it was an entirely different story as the boy unthinkingly gripped his vision orb. All of this happened in under a minute and seeing the man drop to the ground with a dull thump.
Assid was not on the same page, jumping ahead with his hunting blade – blindly going ahead with an enraged scream that strained his vocal cords swinging it at the burly leader who just killed his comrade. His older twin brother couldn’t shout out his name before he was elbowed to his chest knocking the wind out of sending his lightweight body to the ground, with the knife falling out of arm’s reach from the impact.
“I’ll take care of the feisty one, ya take care of the pansy standing back.”
The chunky one cracked his knuckles, giving Forte a good look at his yellowing teeth chipped from decay. Forte saw out of the corner of his eye with his heart beating out of his chest that Assid was struggling to get back to his feet and unintentionally looked at the corpse of what was one of these bandits' co-conspirators, whose face had relaxed with half-lidded eyes and a dumbfounded expression. Forte couldn’t help but look that long at the sight, if only because he was the one who couldn’t help but look at his parents for the same reason – it made him feel lightheaded.
The leader casually meandered to his twin brother, “Hah!” He let out a boastful laugh, looking down, and mockingly teased Assid on the ground. “Ya got yerself a knife and thought you could kill me, ya little brat?”
He raised his foot and dug his heel into Assid’s hand which used to be holding the knife as he was struggling to get up, then kneed the boy in the face, striking him in the nose. Dragging him up in a matter of seconds like a sack of potatoes, the ruffian yelled in his face, while he roughly grabbed his arm, “‘IT WILL TAKE HELLUVA LOT MORE’N THAT!”
The ruffian pulled his arm back, making a fist, and swung with all his force to crack Assid in the face, the blow was so loud it echoed to the people in the surrounding area. The grown muscular man threw him to the ground.
What was most disturbing to Forte was that he noticed Assid wasn’t making any noises, it set off his panic alarms as tears streamed down his face. The only note of him even being alive was the fact the boy moved his arms to protect his face and chest, not that it did much good as the other burly man continued to stomp and kick him, each blow sounding more sickening than the last. He was so focused on the horrific violence happening to his brother, it was too late to realize that he felt his own wrist grabbed by the overweight man who was ordered to do so earlier.
“Heh, ya both have that woman’s face,” The man pulled Forte close, cupping his chin forcing him to look directly at him and the alcohol reeking from his breath. Forte was overwhelmed by the presence of this horrid man, his stomach swirling making him want to vomit. “She was a pretty one, too bad we had ta kill her – right boss?”
The leader, however, wasn’t listening because he was having too much of a delightful time attempting to smash Assid into a pulp whose pale skin was now becoming black and blue, with blood pouring from his face from the blows.
Forte clutched his vision orb in the palm of his hands, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he began to hyperventilate.
Then he remembered the conversation with his mother.
The vision orb – she cautioned him to think carefully of when to use it, that condemning someone could not be undone and to be responsible for it.
Don’t look at it as the solution to all your problem. Her expression looked so sad and distant.
Not everything can be solved with this tool, even if it was gifted by the Goddess. She said with a hint of bitterness.
Forte thought about his mother’s face when he flipped her over on her back, how cold her body was, and the stickiness of the blood that covered their home.
He kicked the who was holding him by the scruff in the groin, which caused him to impulsively grip it, cursing to himself as Forte was dropped to the ground. The boy continued to grip the vision orb.
He remembered his father when the three walked into town together while their mother was at home doing household chores – Forte never had the talent of Assid had of one-for-one conversation, making friends on a whim, but he had a skill for public speaking when they were in town enough that multiple people would crowd around him, praise him as a bright young boy to which his father would laugh giving a ruffle of his hair saying he learned from the best while puffing up his chest with pride. Forte remembered being annoyed about it, smoothing it back into place but now he longed for it.
Those hands were removed from his body, cold, never to pat him on his shoulder, lift him up, or hold his own again.
Neither of his parents would teach him lessons or even speak again.
But this could stop what was happening to his brother. It would get rid of all of them. He had no guilt in condemning any of them.
With tears streaming down his face, he angled himself at the right perspective to catch the man wincing in pain but now approaching him and angling it against the bastard who was kicking his little twin brother –
Forte raising his Vision Orb from it hanging on his neck, a righteous fury with a wave of calm consuming him, he spoke. “My parents were killed… killed by these bandits, after we went hunting,” His breathing was controlled, and his eyes were red from the salty tears welling up, but he had to keep his restraint. “We came home, and… they left a trail of blood leading them to their hideout, at the end of town.”
The blue jewel began to glow eerily as if synching up with his voice.
“And … now they’re doing this to my brother too!!!”
An unsettling ringing began to play in the two remaining bandit’s heads.
The large blue orb held up by a pedestal in the town they lived on the outskirts of – in all towns – began to pulsate, a low unsettling humming. The voice of a young boy, explaining his horrible fate interlaced with the recordings from the blue vision orb.
From the perspective, they heard the footsteps, how he called for his parents - a record playing before their very eyes. The sight of their now cooling bodies, as he ran up in desperation and screaming sobs, echoed throughout their minds. They saw the droplets of blood they followed to find where the bandits were.
They saw the blatant cruelty as they killed their own.
They witnessed the brutal bloodied beatings of a child, with each sickening blow sounding increasingly like cracks of broken bones.
“How could they?! I can’t believe it, they were such a sweet family…”
“They were nothing but kind, why kill them?!”
“I knew they were not to be trusted.”
“Condemn them now! They orphaned those two boys!”
“The world will be better off without those murderous bastards! They already killed one of their own anyway!”
“WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING, THEY’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!”
Begone.
Begone.
BEGONE.
BEGONE.
BEGONE.
BEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONEBEGONE
BEGONE!
The vision orbs that the two remaining bandits carried, exploded into a blaze of flame as they were overwhelmed with the tens of thousands of voices of condemnation, wrapping around the two of them.
“Urgh,” the leader beating Assid to a bloodied pulp, did it enough that stepped back as he held his forehead at the unsettling screams of what felt to be a crowd of people, “What the hell–”
The man holding his groin who was attempting to approach Forte, screamed in pain – a new one than the blow that hit him prior as his eyes widened in dawning horror as a brand twisted itself charring his skin. He could hear a thumping in his head, ringing from the screams of damnation. “H-hey… Boss…”
A similar brand marked the leader of the bandit’s arms as well as he gritted his teeth.
And with a flash of blue light – white flowing robes floating in midair, ghostly figures swiftly moved in the wind towards the two. First, with the immediate threat with the focus – that being on the man beating the little boy to death.
For the first time in a very long time, the leader felt fear. However, he grits his teeth, and swung his fist into the wispy figure in his final moments, “H-huh – ya think ya can stop me? Piece of shi–”
His fist sunk into the cloak of the floating specter, which turned out to be his greatest mistake. He let out a scream, only able to make choking noises as he attempted to pull his fist out. “NO – no no no!” He repeatedly begged as he shook his head in disbelief at what only others on the outside could begin to comprehend. “HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE–”
His scream echoed as he was pulled away in a flash of light.
With that, he was gone.
Forte stared in complete awe, collapsing to his knees at what he had just witnessed. Judgment and righteous justice had arrived with a growing smile on his face. Assid was saved and the sinners were being punished before his very eyes – if only he had done this sooner. Embracing himself, he giggled excitedly at these monsters being executed.
The other man began to shake, moving away from the two, raising his hands towards the other specter that appeared – stumbling back on the ground. “Ple-please…” The heavy-set bandit started doing a crabwalk as he was moving away from the floating figure, “It – It wasn’t my idea! It was – we were taking orders! We were being paid!!!”
Pathetic sobbing came from the man, “PLEASE YOU GOT TO BELIEVE ME, WE WERE JUST DOING THIS FOR THE MONE–”
He didn’t finish his sentence. By then the flowing robes covered him entirely and in a flicker of unnaturally blue light, both were gone. Not even allowing a scream.
For a brief moment in that flash of light, he saw a figure in the distance – floating, shapely, with tired red eyes before it closed. It could have been a hallucination, but it was something to believe in.
Forte’s mind running a mile per minute, came to one conclusion: This way of eliminating the worst of the worst, was clean. Not bloody, filthy, and lowly like the dirty lives of the sinners and transgressors of the world.
The Goddess.
Forte’s raw uncontrolled laughter was the first thing that Assid heard when he came to.
Forte’s view of the world changed on that day.
People could say that something broke inside of him, or something corny like that.
He wished he didn’t trip and fall on a tree’s root dragging home an animal's carcass during the race or at least he took the shortcut he thought about, so this wouldn’t have been Forte’s burden to have and find by himself.
They would have a more normal life, maybe he might have an actual girlfriend or something, an existence away from worshipping a Goddess and sending transgressors to their demise.
Maybe they shouldn’t have gone out to hunt that day at all. He still thinks that would have given their family a chance, no matter what Forte says.
Ever since that happened, Forte’s been different.
But so was he.
Assid couldn't deny his own faith in the Goddess with all he witnessed in trying to make sure Forte could keep on living.
King Gadel simply needed clarification of what they were doing with his facilities, nothing more. Seeing the results of their experiments of creating more competent enforcers pleased him. If it was to get rid of the lowest of the low in his kingdom and even beyond, all could be done in the name of that.
As he watched them leave, talking amongst themselves he found himself there were things that were frustrating about the two twin scientists, particularly the fact that the one with the messier and wild hair was so disrespectful to him openly with his casual talk and the other with the smoother hair was condescending to him like he didn’t understand with a sense of superiority.
He let that slide for a few reasons: Their unparalleled intellect in the kingdom and their competence in their jobs. They had recently destroyed the Nation of Sin with their creation, which was a blessing to the world, and would put his name into the history books.
The two twins working for him one of the most beautiful women he laid his eyes upon had also returned as well. It took him admittedly by surprise when he first met them, but there was no doubt about it. The silver hair, one had a mole under his mouth and the other under his right eye. There was no doubt about it, they were the children of one of the women who escaped his clutches years ago. They had her face.
He obsessed with her for years, trying to find which town, city, or more where she ran off to. Eventually, when they found them out in the outskirts of a small town after several years, he had one of his commanders pay the bandits to kill off the man and the now hideous corrupt woman he tainted along with their brats. But in the end, the two sons managed to survive with the power of the vision orb. It was of no consequence, the men that were hired were stupid brutes and ones they could afford to lose.
But that wasn’t the reason why he didn’t mind their open disrespect.
When he caught sight of their yellow eyes, he knew she carried his seed and raised them wherever she went to her dying days.
It was only fitting, that what was rightfully his returned to him.