The Spark

The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of Lord Alaric's castle, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished stone floors. The castle, usually a place of grandeur and activity, was now cloaked in a somber stillness. The battle at the eastern gate had left its mark, not just on the city but on the hearts of those who called the castle home.

Kael sat in his chamber, his mind still reeling from the conversation with Lira. The decision to return to his village had been made, but the weight of his guilt and self-doubt lingered like a shadow. He stared at his hands, his fingers trembling as he tried to summon even a flicker of his time manipulation. The curse had left him feeling hollow, a shell of the person he once was.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, pulling Kael from his thoughts. A guard appeared at the door, his expression a mixture of relief and urgency.

"Kael," the guard said, his voice respectful but firm. "Lord Alaric has awakened. He's asking for you."

Kael's heart skipped a beat. Lord Alaric—the man who had taken him in, trained him, and believed in him when no one else did—was awake. For a moment, the weight of his guilt and despair lifted, replaced by a surge of hope and gratitude.

But as he rose to his feet, the doubts crept back in.

Kael stood outside Lord Alaric's chamber, his hand hovering over the door handle. The grand wooden door was carved with intricate designs, depicting scenes of battles and triumphs from Prima's history. But Kael barely noticed the artistry. His mind was consumed with guilt and self-doubt.

How can I face him? Kael thought, his chest tightening. After everything he's done for me, I've failed him. I'm not worthy of his kindness.

He took a step back, his hand falling to his side. The weight of his failures felt like a physical burden, pressing down on his shoulders and making it hard to breathe.

"What are you doing?"

The sharp voice startled Kael, and he turned to see Elara, Lord Alaric's daughter, standing behind him. Her blue eyes burned with anger, and her expression was one of pure frustration.

"I… I was just…" Kael stammered, his voice trailing off.

Elara crossed her arms, her gaze piercing. "My father asked for you. He woke up, and the first thing he did was ask for you. Not me, not his advisors, not even the doctors. You. And here you are, standing outside his door like a coward."

Kael flinched at her words, but he couldn't deny the truth in them.

"Do you have any idea how much my father has done for you?" Elara continued, her voice rising. "He took you in, trained you, and believed in you when no one else did. And this is how you repay him? By wallowing in self-pity and hesitation?"

Kael's fists clenched, his frustration boiling over. "You don't understand! I'm not the same person I was when I first came here. The curse has weakened me. I'm… I'm nothing now."

Elara's expression softened slightly, but her tone remained sharp. "Then stop acting like it. My father didn't waste his time on you because he thought you were weak. He saw something in you, something worth believing in. If you can't see that, then you're the one wasting his kindness."

Kael stared at her, her words cutting through the fog of his despair. For the first time in days, he felt a spark of something other than guilt—anger, determination, and a faint glimmer of hope.

"You're right," he said, his voice firm. "I've been acting like a coward. But I'm done with that."

Elara nodded, her expression softening further. "Good. Now get in there before I drag you in myself."

Kael pushed open the door and stepped into Lord Alaric's chamber. The room was spacious and well-lit, with large windows that offered a view of the castle grounds. The walls were adorned with weapons and trophies from Lord Alaric's many battles, a testament to his strength and skill.

Lord Alaric lay in a large bed, his body propped up by pillows. His face was pale, and his breathing was labored, but his eyes were as sharp and commanding as ever.

"Kael," Lord Alaric said, his voice weak but filled with warmth. "It's good to see you."

Kael's chest tightened, and he had to fight back tears. "Lord Alaric… I'm so sorry. I failed you."

Lord Alaric shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "You didn't fail me, Kael. You fought bravely, and you survived. That's all I could ask for."

Kael's guilt threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to stay strong. "I… I don't know if I can keep going. The curse has weakened me. I'm not the same person I was."

Lord Alaric's expression grew serious, and he gestured for Kael to sit by the bed. "Tell me everything."

Kael hesitated, but he knew he couldn't keep the truth from Lord Alaric. He explained the curse, the vision Chronos had shown him, and the despair that had consumed him.

Lord Alaric listened in silence, his expression thoughtful. When Kael finished, he nodded slowly.

"I could sense that something was wrong," Lord Alaric said. "You've grown weaker, and it's not just physical. The curse has taken a toll on your spirit as well."

Kael looked down, his hands trembling. "I don't know what to do. I feel like I've lost everything."

Lord Alaric placed a hand on Kael's shoulder, his grip firm despite his weakened state. "You haven't lost everything, Kael. You still have your strength, your determination, and the people who believe in you. The curse may have weakened you, but it hasn't defeated you. Not yet."

Kael looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. "But how do I overcome it? How do I become strong again?"

Lord Alaric's expression softened, and he leaned back against the pillows. "You start by believing in yourself. You start by taking small steps, one at a time. And you start by letting the people who care about you help you."