The old man sits by the embers of the fire.
He quietly rises, a tear on his cheek.
He knows they are safe, his family and his protectors, though he is fully capable of protecting himself. It is like so many times in his life, this is the third time his family has been driven out of their home, it happed twice in the cisworld to him.
He spots a key next to the table. Taka's key.
Silently he puts it into his pocket, leaves the food on the table, and goes to the front door.
The house is empty. Others will need to make their own now.
He opens the door, and gently locks it, and carrying a diamond encrusted walking stick, he sets off into the setting sun.
Blessings my dear ones.