It's possible that you, the reader, might be thinking that Cedric isn't inherently a bad person; rather, he simply chose not to follow in his father's footsteps. His intentions seem to stem from a desire to prevent his son from experiencing the same fate he faced—being trapped in a painful existence without making any changes. Cedric's reluctance to embrace his father's legacy reflects a deeper struggle with the consequences of inaction and the weight of family expectations.
The old couple's announcement grew heavier with each passing second, the silence in the room thick with unspoken truths. Alastair's mother stared at her son with a mix of awe and fear. It was as if she had suddenly realized she had been raising a sleeping giant, unaware of the power that lay dormant within him.
The old man, his grandfather, cleared his throat. "We must begin your lessons immediately," he said, his eyes shining with a fierce determination that seemed to illuminate the room. "The kingdom calls, and you must be ready to answer."
Alastair's heart skipped a beat. Lessons? For what? The weight of his newfound identity as a prince was already crushing him, and now he was to be saddled with the responsibilities of a king? His mind reeled, trying to process the sudden turn his life had taken.
"What lessons?" he managed to ask, his voice barely audible amidst the caous of his thoughts.
The old man's eyes grew serious. "You have much to learn about your heritage, your responsibilities," he said, his voice a gentle yet firm command. "We leave for Tadieya tonight, young prince. There is no time to waste."
Alastair felt his stomach drop. "But... I have school," he protested weakly, grasping at the familiarity of his mundane life like a drowning man clutching at a rope.
The old woman, his grandmother, shook her head sadly. "The throne waits for no one, child. Your destiny calls, and it is not one that can be ignored."
Alastair stumbled over his words, trying to form coherent sentences. "But, I... I just made friends. And Destiny... she." His voice trailed off, the reality of his situation crashing down around him like the walls of a sandcastle under a relentless tide.
The old couple exchanged a knowing glance. The grandmother spoke up, her voice tender yet firm. "Friendship is a treasure, Alastair, but it does not negate your duty. Your newfound connections in this land are precious, but your true destiny lies in the kingdom that awaits you."
Alastair swallowed hard, his eyes darting between his mother's stunned expression and the determined faces of his grandparents. "What about Mom?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion. "Can't she come with me?"
The old woman took his hand, her eyes filled with compassion. "Your mother has her own path, Alastair. One that does not lead to the throne." She paused, her gaze drifting to his mother, who nodded solemnly. "But you must remember, you carry a part of her with you wherever you go. Her love, her strength, they are your shield."
The gravity of the situation settled over him like a cloak made of lead. He thought of Destiny, the kid who thanked him. Her warm smile and gentle touch. His kind words and warm smile. The kiss that had sent his heart soaring, the word that boy spoke, now felt like a distant memory from another life.