A Tale from The Scattered Shards
The bluff rose behind the house in a gentle slope of clover green and periwinkle blue. The house itself was a single-story stone cottage with daisy yellow shutters that sat on the edge of town. Andre couldn’t believe his son lived in a permanent residence. How could the boy stand it? The pull of the Wanderlust would have driven Andre insane.
He shook those thoughts from his mind and stared at the blue door. That mindset wouldn’t help him. He needed this meeting to go well after the last one.
Andre stepped up to the door, but just as abruptly, he turned and paced away.
What if he couldn’t hold his tongue?
What if Elijah threw him out again?
He wanted a relationship with his son. What if this was the wrong way of going about it?
Was he right to force it? Elijah had made his feelings clear the last time Andre had come. The boy felt Andre had abandoned him to follow the Wanderlust, like all Wildlings. Was the boy right?
No. Andre thought. Never coming here. Never trying. That was true abandonment. The rest was just a child’s perspective on things he didn’t understand. Things Elijah would never understand it Andre didn’t teach him.
Andre turned back to the door. He’d keep trying. No matter how many times Elijah threw him out, he’d keep trying. He wouldn’t abandon his son. He raised his hand, took a deep breath, and knocked.