"I- What?" I gasped, "What do you mean I'm leaving? Where am I even supposed to go? There is nothing out there but the living dark! What-" Father raised his hand, I shut up. "You are commanded by the Council to join the Expedition as liaison," he stated as if discussing the snow.

"The… THE Expedition? The one towards The Citadel? THAT, Expedition?" Bile rose up in my throat, I felt numb and cold. Yet all I was met with was a simple nod. I clamped my hands tight enough to draw blood, I felt the tears building in my eyes despite my best efforts. Father said nothing. "How… How could you," my voice was small and weak, but bitterness pushed me on. "You know…" I spoke barely audibly, but as I spoke, my voice grew louder as anger replaced shock. "You KNOW, JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT'S GLORIFIED SUICIDE! HOW COULD YOU-"

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He held up his hand, I cut off my tirade with trembling hands balled into fists. He spoke, for the first time in my life with emotion, a small trembling quiver in his voice. "I know, son. I know." I saw the regret marring his stoic faćade as we lapsed into silence.

…

"Dismissed."

That was the first time he'd ever called me son.