Ansel actually knew why Mr McVeigh chose a dog. Yet, Ansel chose to remain silent, allowing Mr. McVeigh to reveal his reasoning in his own time and words. There was a weight in the air, a heavy silence that spoke louder than any confession.
He felt completely unconcerned about every fact that surrounded him now.
His mind drifted back to the darkest memory he carried: the first time he killed a puppy. It was the worst day of his life, a day etched into his soul with sharp claws of regret and sorrow.
After that day, Ansel felt devastated, broken in a way that no words could mend. Depression wrapped around him like a suffocating fog, and every breath felt heavier than the last.
Mr. McVeigh's voice cut through the silence, steady and deliberate. "Cat, there is none of that has a fighting instinct to defend itself. Snake, the venom is too poisonous. Maybe you can kill him, but after that, you will also be killed by his venom. Dogs have many species. There is an adorable dog and a dangerous dog. It's a perfect way to freeze your feelings."
Mr. McVeigh's eyes glinted with a mixture of cold calculation and something almost like sorrow. He wasn't just speaking about animals; he was speaking about survival, about the brutal choices one must make in a world that demanded strength and cunning.
Without another word, Mr. McVeigh walked towards the sword Ansel had thrown aside moments before. He picked it up with a firm grip and handed it back to Ansel.
"Remember one thing, never make a mistake like your brother did. You only fight to the end but never sacrifice your own soul." Mr. McVeigh advised, his voice low but resolute.
Ansel's fingers tightened around the hilt. He replied, his voice steady but carrying the weight of unspoken fears. "Okay, I get it."
Ansel knew the path would be treacherous, but with the sword in his hand, he was ready to face whatever darkness awaited.
****
Ansel walked slowly through the park, the crisp morning air brushing gently against his skin. The world around him was alive with the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, but amidst the natural symphony.
An unmistakable tune that tugged at his heartstrings. It was "Tears in Heaven," the hauntingly beautiful song that seemed to echo from somewhere nearby.
Curious and drawn by the music, Ansel moved quietly, weaving through the winding paths of the park. He followed the sound, his senses sharpening as he sought its source.
The melody led him to a secluded garden, a hidden sanctuary framed by blooming flowers and ancient trees. At the center of the garden was a small, serene pool, its surface shimmering under the soft sunlight.
And there, in the middle of the pool, sat a woman playing a grand piano. Her fingers danced gracefully over the keys, coaxing the poignant notes from the instrument with a tender precision that spoke of deep emotion.
Ansel's breath caught as he recognized her. She was the same woman he had seen at Andrew's vuloyi shop, the mysterious figure who had lingered in his thoughts since that day. She wore a wedding dress, pure and white.
He watched her intently, captivated by the surreal beauty of the scene. The music seemed to weave a spell around him, pulling him deeper into a dreamlike state.
When the last note of the song faded into silence, the garden began to shift and blur. The edges of his vision softened, and the tranquil pool transformed before his eyes.
The garden melted away, replaced by a wedding altar adorned with flowers. Ansel felt a strange pull, as if the scene was beckoning him forward, urging him to step into a fate he could neither understand nor escape.
Suddenly, the vision shattered like glass, and Ansel jolted awake. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat dampening his brow. The dream lingered in his mind, vivid and unsettling, as if it carried a message meant only for him.
He didn't understand why this haunting vision kept returning, why it felt like a burden pressing down on his soul.
His thoughts drifted to Heka, who had warned him of a bloody marriage, a union stained with violence and sorrow.
Yet Heka had never revealed when or where this ominous wedding would take place. The uncertainty gnawed at Ansel, filling him with a restless urgency.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 10 a.m. He had overslept. Rising from his bed, he moved downstairs, hoping to find his Grandpa and perhaps some answers.
"Seems like he is not at home." Ansel murmured to himself, scanning the empty rooms. The house was quiet, the absence of his Grandpa adding to the growing sense of unease that clung to the morning.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. He walked forward and immediately twisted the doorknob. He pulled the door open. He was Andrew carrying something. He guessed it was definitely a sword.
Andrew smiled broadly as he stepped closer, proudly showing Ansel the sword he had just finished crafting. The blade gleamed under the soft light, its edges sharp and perfectly balanced.
But then Andrew's smile faded, replaced by a sudden flash of frustration as he spoke in an angry tone. "Ansel, what's wrong with you!!! Can't you guess what I'm carrying?"
"I know. It's a sword." Ansel's reply was curt, almost indifferent.
They had known each other for years, their bond forged through countless shared experiences and unspoken understanding. Their relationship was close, almost like brothers.
Yet this time, Ansel's demeanor was different, cold, distant, unchanged by Andrew's usual warmth.
He understood Ansel's naturally expressive and gentle character; every time they met before, Ansel's face would light up with a smile, his eyes reflecting kindness and life.
But now, something has shifted. Ansel's feelings seemed locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. He was no longer the same person Andrew had known. The change was striking, unmistakable, and it unsettled Andrew deeply.
"Come in." Ansel said quietly, gesturing toward the house.
Andrew hesitated, annoyance flickering across his face. "Ansel, what happened to you? You look so different. You're not Ansel who I knew before."
Without warning, Andrew drew his sword and aimed it at Ansel, his voice sharp and demanding. "Tell me who you are really? Where is the real Ansel?"