GUESS WHICH STORY HAS FINALLY BEEN GIVEN AN UPDATE!

Chapter 22: Demons

When her companions caught up with their wayward elf she had found the stairs that would lead them to the upper floors. But that did not seem to concern Aria, who was sitting a few steps up with her head in her hands.

Alistair bit his lip and was contemplating whether he should try to say something. The stiff way the mage held herself did not appear to welcome the idea of him setting a hand on her shoulder though.

Morrigan also, seemed to be at a loss at their generally well meaning and quiet elf. The woman's brow was pinched and she didn't exactly know what to say to a teenager that had run off to leave a man to rot in some cell. Of course the witch had paid some attention to the conversation that had happened, and she gathered Aria and the man—Jowan—knew each other in some way.

But it wasn't exactly clear other than that their elven do-gooder was almost killed because of some foolishness or other of his.

As neither Aria or Alistair were going to speak any time soon, and the mutt was too busy nudging it's master, Morrigan crossed her arms with impatience.

"Yes, well, as fascinating as this little drama is, do we not have things to do?" she questioned, snapping the female Warden out of whatever mental diatribe she was getting into as the witch noticed the young woman was often wont to do when left to her own devices long enough.

"Right," Aria breathed a heavy sigh as she looked up at them to run her fingers through her dusty bob and ruffled the mop of hair more than it had been. "Off to rescue more people, and stop the undead, and revive an Arl…yeah, ok."

The blonde warden and witch watched the youngest of them psyche herself up to be able to stand on her own two feet. Morrigan crossed her arms and looked back down the hall they had left, a ponderous look upon her face. The effect that man had on the mage was, in a word, not good, to their already easily shaken warden. Just how affected Morrigan didn't honestly know, the minds of people were baffling to her, more so the so easily broken sort the elf seemed to be.

Aria rubbed the heel of her hands against her eyes before bringing them back to her sides.

Alistair walked up the stairs to their mage and set his hands reassuringly over her shoulders. Aria looked away from his eyes with a subtle flinch as he squeezed her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"How about I lead from here on out?" he offered.

Aria nodded her head, shoulders sagging with tired relief.

They do eventually find the daughter of the blacksmith down in Redcliff. She had holed herself up in a broom closet near the entrance to the staircase that they came in from the dungeon. The poor young woman was near hysterical and skinny from hunger.

All Aria could really do for the woman was hand her a canteen of their water that she spilled half onto herself as her body shook, and then promptly latched onto the closest being for comfort. That also ended up being Aria and the group stood there in awkward silence as the elf pat the girl on the back, sobbing up a mess.

Aria kept the fact she wanted to cry just as much with the girl more so out of a collection of mounting, overwhelming emotions than her empathy for the frightened young woman in her arms. But she swallowed down the lump in her throat and discretely wiped the tears that blurred her vision when she believed her cohorts were not looking.

She could not tell by the way Morrigan caught her eye on occasion, her gaze unreadable, if her earlier behavior towards the malificar in the dungeon was forgotten. Alistair though, seemed to put her own issues aside quickly enough to eye the ruined state of the castle interior. His own expression that of a lost boy as they walk over shattered remains and dead things.

There was little information the drunk blacksmith's daughter had been able to give the wardens, witch, and dog. She hadn't been one to keep up with manor gossip. She only knew the scary things had started around the time the head of the household had fallen ill.

"We can assume, then, that the son was perhaps struck by grief when he learned of his father's state of health." Morrigan surmised when they began to move on.

Aria did not speak much beyond an agreeable hum. She didn't trust herself to speak until the urge to cry had passed. But that was fine, as the three barely spoke as they cleaned out the hall rooms of the walking dead with shocks of arcane energy, ice and a sword; the burning rage demons that spawned from the fireplaces, or the ones as noxious and slick as oil that seeped into being from cracks in the floorboards or shadowed corners of the rooms. The mood was slowly becoming somber for them, more so as every room revealed a new threat.

The longer they went on, the more Alistair's skin would lose color and that lost, pained expression seemed to become a permanent fixture to the typically kind hearted mans face.

This had been his home once upon a time after all. He was sure to be taking this hard. Aria perhaps understood, for all the feelings she felt about the Circle of Magi, it had been her home nonetheless, and she was sure she'd feel just as Alistair looked upon the destruction of the tower.

Morrigan, for the most part seemed more inconvenienced than anything, Aria had to wonder if there was anything that could really ruffle her other than her mother.

Aria, however, was feeling the toll of the death count more and more as she listened to the shrieks of the demons she electrocuted, or smelled the rotting fresh as she turned the undead into walking bombs that exploded into smaller bits of dead people. The mage was swallowing back her urge to be sick still; surely she'd never get use to all this violence despite the fact her own face hadn't expressed much beyond a frown or exhaustion since her confrontation with Jowan. As the bodies dropped and burned, or exploded in her case, the elf was becoming less and less willing to cast another spell and began to ponder if swinging the sword she still had strapped to her waist like Alistair would be less messy than electrocution.

But then ahead of her Alistair cut down a shrieking, oily demon and the remains splatter across his armor and she thinks otherwise about waving the heavy stick of metal at her hip. The gore was not pleasant, the sight was nightmarish, and she wished every door held the last of the once human creatures or demon.

This entire raid had her feeling off, if she was quite honest. The air around them, while stale and pungent weighed heavily on their shoulders. Every movement felt tense, and her heart had not left her stomach since they arrived on the upper level.

Morrigan assumed it only to be the tainted magic festering around the castle.

Aria had never actually felt the presence of a possessed person so she would take the witch's word for it.

Whether they saved anyone or not wasn't feeling as important anymore.

They relied heavily on Alistair's knowledge of the manor's floor plan as they moved ever closer to their destination. The main hall.

Taking a moment in the lull of danger, the women stood to the side as Alistair shoved away some heavy wooden structure that was blocking a doorway he had recalled was a sitting room. The wood, heavy and aged and was possibly a long table thumped to the stone floor loud enough to make Aria flinch at the sudden interruption of the tense silence.

"Come on, we can rest in here for a bit." Alistair guided the two mages inside. He almost brushed his gloved hand over the small of Morrigan's back as she walked in first, the glare he received however had him throw up his hand with his own exasperated eye roll.

Morrigan disappeared inside and Aria sighed. She followed after with barely a glance at the only man in the group besides Uthnehen.

Her exhaustion hit her the moment she slipped into an untouched chair as the other dark haired woman chucked some wood into a fireplace set against the far wall.

Eyeing the stone and oak of the setting, and the mostly untouched tapestries and furniture of the room, Aria had to admit: the room was lovely. If the entire castle wasn't such a wreck, she was sure the grounds were the epitome of Ferelden nobility.

Morrigan waggled a piece of wood in front of her and Aria lit it up before it was chucked into the fireplace with little care.

Alistair shut the door with a sigh of his own. They made themselves as comfortable as they could as they settled around the fireplace to catch their breath. Uthnehen sat at Aria's feet as her eyes wandered.

You could still get an idea of the castle's prior magnificence by where they had holed up in. The fire light bathed the cold grey walls with a warm orange, a flicker and dance of the candles Morrigan also proceeded to take off the iron candelabra's to light at the fire added to the coziness. There was a long, nearly untouched tapestry, thick with wool yarn and dust. It depicted some kind of battle between two opposing armies. The furniture scattered in the room, some side tables, shelves, and loveseat, even the high backed chair she glanced at were finely crafted with engraved mabari and decorative patterns. The ceiling throughout the castle floors were high and possibly stained dark, with thick support beams that had also been engraved masterfully. However, all the tall, arched windows had been covered from the sunlight by thick velvet curtains. Over all, if the rest of the manor had not been in chaos, the elf was sure it would have been as tasteful as their hide away.

It was Morrigan who broke the silence between the trio and one dog first.

"Are we not going to talk about how our esteemed leader just left a man to die in his cell?" The dark haired witch leaned back on her hands as she turned to face the elf in question who was stroking the head of Uthnehn.

"I don't really care as to the fate of the man, but I will be the first to say he could have been used and your reaction was unlike you."

Alistair, disturbed from his own brooding perked up to face the two women with a concerned frown.

"You know, as much as it pains me to say it, Morrigan is right—"

"And wouldn't you know, the fool has a brain." Morrigan's interruption was ignored by the blond.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so…I don't know? Disgusted and angry, by the sight of that mage. You called him Jowan, right? Do you know him? And what was all that about him running off and getting you almost killed?"

Aria refused to speak for a time, her constant pets on her mabari's head stilled as she peered at nothing through tired eyes. She felt like an idiot, thinking they wouldn't bring up what happened any time soon; she had hoped she'd be able to get her feelings in check before the questions started. As she is now, Aria did not think she could hold back the torrent of tears and screams that wanted to break out of her clenched jaw.

She didn't want to speak of Jowan anymore; she wanted to shove her issues with him aside so she could focus on just living through this stupid request of saving the Arl Alistair cared about and stop the undead. Already their tasks that she agreed to were wearing her down and the elf hoped the gore splattered on her clothes would not stain.

But alas, the two humans were looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to answer for her actions. Breathing in deeply and forcing herself not to gag that the rotten smells around them, the elf fell back onto the musty carpet they were sitting on.

Staring unblinkingly at the ceiling above them, Aria spoke.

"I knew Jowan from the Circle, he was there to help me through the first year away from my family. He was my only friend."

"Recently, there had been rumors of him becoming tranquil, I didn't think it would be so bad. At least he wouldn't be so anxious all the time. But Jowan detested the idea. Other rumors about him only continued to surface."

Aria pursed her lips then, staring off into space as her mind replayed the memories of the blade slicing through the man's hand all over again.

"I don't think I told you, Alistair…But Duncan had to enforce the Rite of Conscription to take me from the tower."

Alistair frowned.

"I don't think so, but what does that have to do with this mage in the cellar?"

"I helped him escape." She admitted.

"You know, you don't exactly struck me as the jailbreak kind of girl."

Aria shrugged.

"Can't say I was proud of it either, considering we were caught and Jowan still got a way by using blood magic. Jowan lied to me, and then left me in the hands of the Knight-Commander who wanted to demand my execution."

"And then Duncan saved you by conscripting you." Alistair nodded. "You must have been grateful."

"Did he really though?" Morrigan spoke her piece. Alistair made a face so Morrigan took that moment to clarify. "Save her, I mean."

Aria turned to the witch with a rueful twitch of her lips.

"What do you mean, she's here isn't she? Saved her from certain death if I recall what she had told us." Alistair argued with an annoyed lilt to his voice.

"Yes, and then I suppose recruiting her into an army for a battle where there is certainly a chance she could have a far more gruesome death due to inexperience in a large battle was a good thing." Morrigan challenged. "Yes, your Duncan really did the girl quite the favor."

"Hey, Duncan was a good man, and we needed more Grey Warden's. If he saved Aria, then he saw her potential for greatness or whatever. And she is—great that is."

Aria watched the two bicker back and forth with tired eyes and pursed lips.

"Is no one going to ask my opinion on whether I felt saved or not?" she ask over the two humans. Alistair jumped, as if he forgot the elf was in the same room as them and looked over towards her sheepishly. Morrigan waved her hand in a motion towards her as if to say 'well?'

"Whether either of you think I was saved from certain death or not, I don't really know how I feel about what Duncan has done to me." She turned to Alistair who looked like he wanted to argue his point again.

"I didn't know Duncan like you Alistair, I'm sad he's gone, he could have taught me a lot—was teaching me things on our way to Ostagar…" Aria sighed and rubbed her scared arm tentatively.

"…I didn't want to be a Grey Warden." She said with more resolution than she typically showed.

"I accepted the fact I would live the rest of my life in the Circle—maybe writing books, I don't know. I didn't have to like it, I never liked the Circle. But it's the only home I had and I could even accept being sentenced to death because of what I had done with Jowan…we put an innocent chantry sister's life in danger because she was in a relationship with him."

"So no Alistair, I'm not thankful—but I'm not unthankful, if that makes sense."

"I don't really know what I feel when I think of how I'm still alive." Aria ended, then turned away from the two. Her turning away made her miss the conflicted expression that crossed the other Wardens face.

Morrigan simply nodded, understanding that emotions weren't so clear cut as some would want them to be.

The mabari with them whined into Aria's lap as she bit her lip from blurting out what she had wanted to tack onto her final words.

I don't really know what I feel when I think I'm still alive. But sometimes, when I have dreams of the Archdemon, or feel the nearby darkspawn it makes me wish that I had died.

The first door they come across, after their break in the barricaded room, was the one which Alistair had said should have lead to the main foyer was locked tight and the wood unable to burn. Aria studied the door, finding it strange how it was closed, as she quietly mused to herself, "A force field made by the demons, perhaps?"

So Alistair led them down a flight of stairs and down another long hallway he informed them was a servant's path that led to the front courtyard. Opening the door caused Aria to squint her eyes due to the sunlight peeking through the clouds over head.

Filing out into the walled off yard of dead grass and carriages that had been left in disrepair. The majority of their view was blocked by a wall of stone that was the rising staircase to the platform that wound to their right where stone blocked them in some more. It had to possibly stretch the length of the castles façade. To the far left of the courtyard was a closed gate that led back out to Redcliff, the same gate that had to have opened the night they helped the village defend from another wave of walking dead. Without thought, Aria began the short walk across the lawn, onto worn down cobblestones that made an old road that would lead back into town, to find a way to open the gates and hope what soldiers remained would be able to make it up to them.

She was just crossing onto the cobblestone path when Uthnehn let out a series of sharp barks. Aria jumped in shock and made to turn around when the whistling of an arrow narrowly missed cutting more than a shallow line across her cheek. The mage flinched back, bringing a shield up around her as a piercing shriek exploded all around her. Alistair shouted in surprise as knobby, boney things with holey armor and skin stretched across them to attempt in some way to hide the bones protruding from their shoulders and hips rose from their hiding place from behind the railing at the top of the stairs.

Morrigan clicked her tongue when a hellish creature, that would have towered over even Sten had he been there, rose up from a rippling effect in the ground. Green sparks and a dirty, corrupted red energy came with the tear in reality as the figure shrieked an unholy noise and shook Aria to her core.

"A Revenant! He will pull you in should it get the chance." Morrigan warned as she threw out a hand. A runic formation sprung out from under the creature and arcane sparks danced and connected to the edges of its robes to paralyze it. But considering the rune and its magic were easily broken as it made a move to swing at Alistair as he charged for it the rune was not strong enough.

Aria shook herself out of her own fears long enough to set fire to more of the emaciated pawns that cropped up at the Revenant's side and bolting past them to the enemies shooting arrows at the top of the stairs.

"Alistair, open the gates!" she shouted as she ran past. There was a sound of meeting for sword and shield and the elf was unsure if he had actually heard her, but she cast aside the possibility of a failed order to stun a pair of demonic archers with a mind blast before setting them on fire with naught but an uncomfortable expression flitting across her face. The choking smell of burning things started, she turned to another row, the first in it aiming its rusted looking bow at her.

Knocking it back with a bolt into the fiend behind it she would have electrocuted them. But spikes of ice materialized from under their booted feet to impale them. Looking down the stairs, Aria relaxed her shoulders into a relieved sigh at the sight of Morrigan's hands surrounded by the cold blue energy of her preferred element. Spikes of more ice surrounded her with dead enemies that had gotten too close to the prickly witch before she shattered it with just a wave of a hand not holding her staff.

Aria ran down the steps two at a time to join the dark haired woman just as Alistair flew past with a surprised cry.

"Some help would be appreciated!" Alistair griped the moment he quit sliding across the ground.

In answer, Uthnehn barked threateningly at the tallest of their problems and then proceeded to jumped up to lock its jaw on its wrist.

The trio took a moment to watch with varying expressions as the Revenant flailed its arm—admittedly—a little comically.

"I suppose I can see the benefit of the mutt staying with us." Morrigan said after a moment.

"Grey Wardens! Open the gate. My men and I shall assist!" came Sir Perth's call from across the court. Aria looked to Alistair, who nodded and bolted for the gates. Morrigan covered him by roving her staff in an arc to form an ice wall directly behind him.

Uthnehn yelped then and crashed to the ground with a sword as long as he was following suite. It had been the sword the Revenant had held opposite its shield. Taking the chance, Aria cast another spell, arm up high before forcing them down, causing the Revenant to struggle. It tried to break the added weight of unseen pressure from its shoulders. However, Morrigan, again, cast a paralysis rune under the monster just in time for one of Sir Perth's men to stab it in the side with a sword.

The soldier's made quick work of the leftover pawns and by the time Alistair finally sheathed his sword the courtyard was just another part of the castle with the twisted, corrupt bodies of what could have been the previous soldiers serving under the Arl, collapsed and mangled in their own dirtied blood.

Aria tried to not breath in too deeply as their groups conversation from earlier that day popped into her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and let Alistair deal with speaking to the knight that had come to their aid and walking up the flight of stairs where at least her fire had burned the skin off the bones of most of the archers and the stink or corruption wasn't as distracting.

Morrigan promptly followed, not at all interested in the thanks coming from Alistair's mouth.

They stopped at the doors, heavy and foreboding. Whatever they were to expect in this ploy to save the Arl and his family was just beyond here and it was like the icing to this overly messy affair.

Morrigan eyed Aria with an unreadable expression before she sighed.

"This is taking more out of you than I expected." She admitted. Aria faced her with an equally unreadable expression.

"You called it," the elf pointed out. "Beyond focus exercises and learning to cast in a controlled environment the first time I actually fought anything was when I agreed to clean the cellars for a Senior Enchanter…And those were spiders."

"I don't think I will be able to continue if every time I have to set a humanoid…thing on fire I throw up."

"You want to throw up?" Morrigan furrowed her brows, Aria grimaced.

"Very much so. But I haven't yet and I don't know if that is a good thing or not."

Morrigan pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Do tell me that is not the reaction you have every time you kill something…" Aria continued to stare at the woman so Morrigan sighed.

"When this fruitless endeavor is complete I will see to it that I brew you something to settle your stomach to this…gore."

The women stood there once more after their talk before Aria reached out to Morrigan's arm and squeezed it in appreciation.

"Thank you, Morrigan."

The foyer was perhaps the first room they have been in that didn't show the wear and tear of a castle under siege by corpses or demons. The walls echoed with the shrill giggles of a man not in his right of mind, no one could quite stop Alistair from pushing forward into the center room with the fireplace roaring warm and Bann Teagan dancing. His feet tap tapping on the royal blue rug he stood over as a young boy, maybe no more than ten stood on the elevated part of the floor. Isolde stood beside the boy, tense and miserable; a grimace marred her pretty features.

The boy clapped his hands to the jerky jig Teagan danced. This boy must be Connor. A boy who laughed in a distorted voice too deep to really be his. His eyes clouded, not really seeing anything.

Aria reached out to grab hold of Alistair before he could speak, the clinking of his armor drew the attention of Isolde who looked up at them pleadingly. Her arms crossed, holding onto herself as if she would fall apart should anything be said.

Aria looked upon the scene with a furrowed brow. There was a row of guard in full armor just behind the woman and her possessed son; by the glazed look in their eyes and unreadable expression she could only assume these men were being possessed to. Or controlled, the mage didn't really know what to expect anymore.

And then the boy spoke, noticing them over his uncles shoulder.

"So these are our visitors mother?" he asked in that deeply distorted voice of his. The boy raised his hand and Teagan's dance came to a halt and he walked up to the boy to sit at his feet.

Aria wanted to flinch away at the manic grin on the older man's face.

"Y-Yes Connor." Isode answered her son and squeezed her arms tighter around her frame.

Connors eyes roved across the group, passing over Morrigan and Uthnehn, his gaze did not linger too long on any one person.

"And these are the ones that defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?" he asked no one. Connors roving eyes stopped on Aria then and a shiver ran up her spine at the corpse like glaze over the boys eyes and felt the terrible magic that ensonsed him. Connor sneered, leaning back as if in disgust.

"It's staring at me now mother! What is that thing?"

Isolde seemed to be unsure of how to answer, confusion mixing with misery.

"It is an elf, Connor. You…you've seen elves before, we have them here in the castle."

The boy barked out a fit of sudden laughter.

"Oh, I remember now! I had their ears cut off, fed them to the dogs! They chewed for hours you know? I watched, shall I send it to the kennels as well mother?" The possessed boy threatened; gleefully eyed Aria with those deadened eyes. Aria froze in her place and let her nails dig into her palms as she fisted them tight. Her wide, uncomfortable eyes the only indication of her fear at their words. Alistair shuffled more in front of her, a hand placed hesitantly to the handle of his blade.

"C-Connor, I beg you, please…please don't hurt anyone!"

From the back of the group, Sir Perth stood with his men, a strangled look to his visage.

"Maker's Breath…what has happened here…"

"Please!" Isolde begged the party, the desperation heavy in her gaze, "Please do not hurt my son Grey Wardens, he is not at fault, he does not understand what is happening!"

The child at her side lashed out his arm. In anger, a burst of magic the color of the veil pushed Isolde away. She hit the stone floor with naught but a sharp gasp.

"Quiet, fool woman! I know exactly what I am doing, it was a fair deal. Father is alive and I get my turn to rule, I send out my armies and crush those who oppose me." He barked, lips twisted into a toothy grin. Isolde looked crestfallen as she looked up at her boy. Alistair tried to make for the Arlessa, but again Aria held him back with a light jerk. He looked down at her, lips pursed and brow furrowed.

'Wait' she had mouthed. The man looked at her for a long moment before giving her a sharp nod.

"So, tell us, what have you come here for?" Connor demanded. Aria answered.

"To help, if we can."

"Help who?Me? Father? Yourself? Well, which is it?"

"Anyone who needs it. I seem to have a knack for it." Aria surmised. The Arl's son looks down his nose at them.

"Help? I do not need help. I can do everything on my own now, isn't that right, mother?" the boy turned to sneer at the fallen woman who turns away from his corrupted gaze and to her hands fisted on the ground.

"I…I don't think…" she very nearly sobbed. Again the boy laughed.

"Of course you don't. Ever since you sent the knights away to look for some mythical woman's ashes you've done nothing but lay in fathers bed and be a dull bore. I'm bored!" Connor complained and turned his gaze back to Aria and the soldiers.

"Entertain me, perhaps your screams will cure me of this boredom!"

The soldiers had all moved as one; there was a rush of fear for perhaps only a moment until Morrigan's quick wit had her erect a wall of ice to block off the opposing soldiers long enough for Aria to send an arch of lightning that connected from one body to the next.

The magic was able to paralyze the troops long enough for Sir Perth and his men to surround and disarm them all.

Aria ran around the ice to head for the boy, but he was gone, all that was left was Bann Teagan, shaking his head and Isolde who held the man steady.

Off to the side a door was left swinging ajar.

"Teagan, oh Teagan! Blessed Andraste, I would never have forgiven myself had you died!" Isolde cried where she sat, holding the red haired man up as the heel of his hands dug into his eyes. He groaned in pain; Aria turned away from the door after closing it. She was unsure if the possessed Connor would bother them so soon after running off, but she'd rather have warning through the door bursting open rather than give him the chance to sneak up on them.

In the background, Sir Perth and his men were assisting Alistair as they restrained the still breathing soldiers that had been knocked out cold in the previous scuffle. Morrigan stood off to the side with a shrewd eye towards their chore.

Aria looked back over to the hysterical arlessa and couldn't stop the heavy sigh from leaving her mouth.

"Please, please do not be angry with Connor! He isn't in control of himself!" the orlesian woman faced the exhausted Aria. "You must save him."

Morrigan's lips pursed as if she would regret what she was going to say, but pushed on anyways.

"The boy is clearly an abomination. There is only one thing—"

"I will not be part of killing a child Morrigan." Aria interrupted sharply, her face set in disgust.

"I am not one to kill a child…" Alistair flinched at the scathing look the arlessa threw his way, he turned from her to face his party. "but…"

"We will find another way." Aria hissed, her body tense as a coiled snake.

"The apostate, surely he would be able to fix the mess he's made! Make him fix this!" Isolde pleaded. Both Alistair eyed Aria with a look of discontent, but the elf shook her head sharply.

"More blood magic is not the answer if it is the cause." She stated resolutely. A thought then entered her mind, and dread expressed itself in her features. "But the Circle of Magi may know how to fix this."

"But Connor—" Isolde protested.

"Should have been entered into the Circle the moment you became aware of his magic." Teagan reprimanded the woman.

"It was you hiding it and hiring an unknown apostate that started this nightmare! This has to end Isolde, before more people die."

Isolde looked crestfallen and looked to the others for help. But Alistair refused to look at her and Aria was far too focused on her own mounting dread to show care to the distraught mother.

Isolde looked down at her dirtied dress where her hands gripped and twisted the fine material and let out a wounded, high pitched noise.

"I just didn't want my son to leave me…"