Granted!!
Leon simply raised his hand.
"Warden."
The single word carried more authority than a shout.
The blade paused.
"My king," snapped the guard, voice stiff.
A sliver of steel caught firelight, lifted halfway toward the old ones. Inches away, it trembled. The man's fingers gripped tight, skin pale over bone.
"Lower sword."
Quiet as it was, the order carried weight. Silence made it stronger.
The warden hesitated.
A muscle in his face twitched. Not looking away, he saw Leon first, then the old figures bent forward on the ground - thin cloth hanging loose, energy dimmed, dignity doing most of the work to keep them upright.
After that, he pulled the blade back inch by inch.
The blade slipped home again, metal whispering protest as it settled. Quiet resistance hummed along the edge before stillness took over.
Still, Leon did not look away.
