Bryan turned to the left and drove the car under the shade of an almond tree, turning to look at Claire. Her expression was concerned, her eyes reflecting the pity he felt for him. "Please don't tell me that you're going in there to speak with your brother again. I think this has been toxic enough, it's clear they don't want you here," Claire said, shaking her head.Bryan smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He wasn't interested in what his family thought of him. As a matter of fact, he was used to his family picking his brother over him. He just wanted to know why and precisely what that had to do with his predicament after the army."No, I'm not going back in there to rant with Josiah or Uncle Williams, I've made my peace with them," he said, his voice calm."Then what's the matter?" Claire asked, her brow furrowed with worry."I have someone I need to meet," he replied, his eyes fixed on hers."Who is this Jenkins you're speaking of?" Claire asked, her voice curious.Bryan

The next day, Benjamin called Bryan as early as daybreak. Bryan was still sleepy when he heard his phone ring and he rolled out of bed to grab it. "Hey, Ben, you're waking me up rather early, what's up?" He asked, his voice groggy with sleep.Benjamin first apologized for calling him up so early and asked how his previous day had gone. Bryan sighed, wondering how he could possibly recount his day to his friend. It was one hell of a year and it left him sour. "That's a long story, Ben. I don't think I want to talk about it," he replied, rubbing his eyes.Ben laughed and told him that he knew he'd gone home and he could guess that it wasn't such an easy day since his brother wasn't the most friendly person. Bryan scoffed, calling his brother unfriendly and was just trying to coat it up. Josiah was outrightly harsh, he was everything that someone would never want his own brother to do. "That's falling far from the mark," Bryan said, his voice laced with sarcasm.Ben sighed, telling him he

Bryan quickly tried to regain composure from the information that had just shaken him. If someone else was the supreme warlord, then it meant that the council had convened to terminate his own title and somehow found someone else worthy of such ordination. "Last time I checked, there was no one who could even compete with me. No one was worth being the supreme master, talk more of the supreme warlord. Had they suddenly dropped their standard?" He asked out loud but to no one in particular.He couldn't believe it. He was the best, the greatest, the supreme. No one could match his skills, his strategy, his leadership. He was the one who had been chosen, who had been destined for greatness.Who could even replace him? Who was worthy of such a title, the supreme warlord? Bryan snickered, wondering who could even stand behind him, he was second to none. There was no one he could think of that was even half the man he was. All his generals needed a lesson on night and courage. They couldn't

Bryan staggered back a little, struggling to process the jarring change in Jenkins’ voice. The old man he had known was frail, his voice barely rising above a whisper. Yet, the voice on the phone now was strong and assertive, unrecognizable as Jenkins'. He glanced around, half-expecting to see the old man materialize in front of him, but there was nothing—just the lingering sound of his own breathing and the hum of the city around him."Jenkins?" Bryan asked again, his voice edged with uncertainty. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t speaking to someone else, someone who had somehow gotten hold of Jenkins’ phone. His skepticism was palpable, though he hoped it wasn’t the case.“It’s me, Bryan. You said I should call you right? You did give me your card,” the voice on the line said. Bryan could almost hear the confidence emanating from the speaker. It was a tone of authority that starkly contrasted with the frailty he had grown accustomed to.“You sound different,” Bryan said, his laugh com

That night, Bryan woke up with a jerk. The cold sweat on his forehead same as the ice creeping down his spine. He had just had the weirdest dream. Or was it a dream? He couldn't tell. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. He needed water, something to qunwch his dry throat that felt like parchment paper. Yawning, he padded softly with bare feet to the kitchen, he moved through the darkened hallway, the silence of the night making his soft footfalls resound. The house was as dark as his thoughts. Speaking of thoughts, Bryan hadn't been able to keep his mind blank since the incident with Jenkins. Neither had he been able to wrap his head around all that the old man had told him. But somehow it made perfect sense. The odd stares, the way his aunt hated him but somehow loved his brother, it all made sense somehow. As he reached the kitchen, he flipped on the light and blinked against the sudden brightness. He headed for the cabinet