The King's Guard

Chapter 2

Kael stepped out of the wine shop and into the cool night air, his mind buzzing with excitement and nerves. The village was quiet at this hour, with only the soft rustling of leaves in the trees and the distant hoot of an owl breaking the stillness. The cobblestone streets were illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, casting long shadows that danced as he walked.

His house wasn’t far—a modest, single-story home nestled near the edge of the village. The familiar scent of pine and earth filled the air as he passed by the small gardens and workshops that lined the street. Each step brought him closer to the conversation he had been dreading but knew was necessary.

As Kael reached his front door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. The wooden door creaked softly as he pushed it open, stepping into the warm, dimly lit interior. The comforting smell of burning wood from the hearth greeted him, along with the faint aroma of his father’s pipe smoke.

His father, a tall man with broad shoulders and greying hair, sat in his usual chair by the fireplace, a newspaper spread out in his hands. The flickering firelight highlighted the lines on his face, lines etched by years of hard work and loss. His father didn’t look up immediately, absorbed in whatever news the paper held.

Kael’s heart raced as he crossed the room, the worn floorboards creaking under his boots. He stood silently for a moment, watching his father’s focused expression, the flames from the fireplace reflecting in his piercing blue eyes—the same eyes Kael had inherited.

Finally, his father looked up, sensing Kael’s presence. He folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside, his gaze settling on his son. "You’re back late," he said, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity.

Kael swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment. "I need to talk to you about something important, Dad. It’s about the choosing ceremony tomorrow.”

“What about it?” His father's brow furrowed.

“I know you have your reservations about the Shadow Corps but it has always been my dream and I can make any decision concerning my life but out of the love and respect I have for you, I've come to seek your support and approval.” Kael began.

“I know if mom was alive, she would let me do this as long as I would be happy with. I love Mom as much as you do even if I can't remember much about her but the few memories I have, I cherish and I know she would want me to do anything that makes me happy. This would make me happy Dad and I need your support.” 

Kael’s words hung in the air, the silence between father and son stretching out, thick with unspoken emotions. His father’s brow furrowed deeply, the lines on his face growing more pronounced as he absorbed Kael’s plea. The crackling of the fire in the hearth seemed distant, almost drowned out by the tension that filled the room. Kael’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited, his eyes fixed on his father’s, hoping to see some sign of understanding, of approval.

His father leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as if the weight of Kael’s words had settled heavily on his shoulders. He looked away, his gaze drifting to the fire, the flickering flames reflecting the turmoil in his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured, carrying a gravity that Kael hadn’t often heard.

"Your mother," his father began, "she was the most caring person I ever knew. She had a heart big enough to shelter the whole world if she could. From the moment you were born, she made it her mission to protect you, to shield you from anything that might harm you. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep you safe."

His father paused, his eyes misting over with the memories of a time that was long past. "When you were just a baby, you were always curious, always reaching out for everything around you. One time, you crawled straight for the hearth, your little hands reaching for the flames. Your mother—she was terrified, but she scooped you up before you could get hurt. She held you so tight, Kael like you were the most precious thing in the world. And to her, you were. She would have done anything to keep you from harm, and every time I see you, I see that same determination in your eyes, the same fire."

Kael listened in silence, his chest tightening with the weight of his father’s words. He had heard stories of his mother before, but each time, they felt like new revelations, bringing him closer to the memory of the woman he had lost too soon.

"I know you think I’ve been hard on you, Kael," his father continued, his voice tinged with regret. "And maybe I have been. But it was never because I wanted to stifle your dreams. It’s because I wanted to protect you, the same way your mother would have if she were still here. I’ve seen too much in this world, son. I’ve seen what happens to men who throw themselves into danger, who believe they’re invincible. They get broken, Kael. They get broken, and those they leave behind are the ones who suffer the most."

His father’s words were heavy, each one carrying the weight of years of grief and fear. Kael could see the pain etched into his father’s features, the deep-seated worry that had driven him to try and keep Kael from following the path he so desperately wanted.

"But you’re right," his father said after a long pause, his voice softening. "You’re not a boy anymore. You’re a man, and I can’t keep you from making your own decisions. I can’t hold you back, as much as I wish I could keep you safe forever. You’ve got that same fire your mother had—the same fire that made her stand up for what she believed in, no matter the cost. And I can see that this is what you want, Kael. I may not agree with it, and I may be afraid of what could happen to you, but I can’t stop you. I won’t stand in your way."

Kael’s breath caught in his throat as his father met his gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and pride. "If this is truly what you want," his father said, "then you have my blessing. I only ask that you take care of yourself and that you remember what you’re fighting for. Not just for the kingdom, but for the people who love you."

Kael felt a swell of emotion rise within him, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a fierce determination to prove himself worthy of his father’s blessing. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his father in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Dad," Kael whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise, I’ll make you proud. I’ll make Mom proud too."

His father returned the hug, his arms strong but trembling slightly. "I know you will, Kael," he said softly. "I know you will."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the warmth of the fire casting a golden glow over them. When they finally pulled apart, Kael saw the traces of tears in his father’s eyes, mirrored in his own. But there was also a quiet acceptance, a recognition that Kael was ready to take the next step on his journey.

"Get some rest, son," his father said, his voice steady once more. "Tomorrow’s a big day. You’ll need all your strength."

Kael nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose surging through him. "Goodnight, Dad," he said, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

"Goodnight, Kael," his father replied, watching as his son turned and headed toward his room.

Kael practically bounced to his room, his heart pounding with excitement. He could hardly contain the surge of energy as he flung himself onto his bed, the mattress creaking beneath him. With a deep sigh of relief, he stared up at the ceiling, a grin spreading across his face. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to drift into a daydream, one that had fueled his ambitions for as long as he could remember.

In his mind’s eye, he saw himself standing tall among the ranks of the Shadow Corps, their imposing figures cloaked in dark, flowing robes. The mask, a symbol of their mysterious power, covered his face, leaving only his eyes visible—cold, calculating, and ever watchful. He imagined moving silently through the shadows of the royal palace, his every step calculated, his every movement precise. The weight of the twin daggers at his waist felt natural, an extension of his will.

He envisioned protecting the royal family from unseen threats, thwarting assassins, and unraveling plots against the kingdom. The sense of purpose, of belonging to something greater, filled him with pride. Kael’s heart swelled at the thought. Tomorrow, his journey would begin, and he was ready.