I was sitting in the small book room of our house, reading spells, when it happened. The door flew open and standing there was my mother, her bright blue eyes looked worried. "They're coming." She whispered under her breath.
I knew what she was talking about from the start. The government. The banishing.
We darted to my father's room, down the creaking narrow hallway until we opened the molded door. As we walked in, my father was coughing, lying in bed, the usual. "Father, we must go. They're coming." I said quietly. "No, I wouldn't *cough* last a day in the woods." He replied. "Father, you must come!" I answered. Just then, us three heard the door be broken open and government advocates yelling. "I said no. I'm your father I can't loose you. I've lived long enough, you haven't." He said, his voice unsteady and tears in his eyes. "But-but, I an use magic, I can fight them." I stammered. "You are one against an army, You must go." Father whispered. "Without me."