NovelEnglish“The tea is exquisite.” Jarrod’s invitation was warm, inviting them to partake in this shared moment.
Waylen’s curiosity was piqued, his lips curling into a hint of a smile as he sipped the fragrant brew.
Jarrod was seated gracefully, and his gaze turned towards the mountains, the setting sun painting the sky with hues of blush and gold.
“The sun’s descent gifts us with a breathtaking dusk,” he mused.
Waylen’s voice, a harmonious echo, affirmed, “Yes, the beauty of twilight.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtWith a graceful gesture, Jarrod signaled the end of their meeting.
“It’s time for you to depart, Mr. Fowler
As Waylen helped Rena to her feet, his movement carried a touch of reverence.
Bending slightly, he offered his gratitude, “Thank you for your time.” Jarrod’s silence held a kind understanding, a shared acknowledgement of the profundity of this encounter.
And so, Waylen and Rena left the chamber, stepping into the embrace of the outside world. As they emerged, the sky blazed with hues of crimson and gold, the sun bidding its fiery farewell to the day.
Within the meditation room, Jarrod remained still, his expression a tableau of enigmatic emotions.
A disciple knelt on the floor, tears mingling with whispered sobs.
“Why did you alter fate?”
“Rise.” Jarrod’s voice held a quiet authority, inviting the disciple to stand.
But the disciple remained on the floor, his grief uncontainable.
Jarrod’s gaze, fixed on the sunset’s glow, his words a soft murmur.
“Life is an uncertain journey, marked by twists and turns. My path, too, has led me here, and it is only fitting that it concludes in this manner. Elijah… You know what? I see Waylen like I see a younger version of myself. But I’m not smarter than him because I hid here for love.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmA fleeting smile graced Jarrod’s lips, a trace of solace in his expression,
He had not acted to alter the course of events for Waylen, but rather to find his own sense of solace.
In the distance, the bell of the ancient temple began to toll, its sound a reverberating echo across time.
The peal of the bell, haunting yet beautiful, marked Jarrod’s passing.
As the Fowler family descended the mountain, their steps punctuated by the bell’s mournful toll,
Korbyn and Waylen exchanged a knowing glance, a shared understanding passing between them. In haste, they retraced their steps, their footsteps quickened by a sense of urgency, It was Elijah who stood as the bearer of Jarrod’s final words, carrying them like a sacred treasure to be unveiled.
“Jarrod wished to convey his gratitude to Mr. Waylen Fowler.” A silence settled over the Fowler family, a sense of quiet reverence for a life that had touched theirs in ways beyond words.
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