The heavy oak doors leading to the courtyard creaked open, letting in the cool mountain breeze.
Cassian leaned lightly on a polished wooden cane, his legs still stiff from fifteen years of immobility, but his posture remained straight as he stepped onto the stone terrace.
Across the dirt training field, Aurelian was brutally laying into a wooden practice dummy.
*THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.*
The heavy iron training sword whistled through the air, splintering the straw padding with every harsh, uncontrolled strike. Sweat soaked through Aurelian's linen tunic, his long dark hair clinging to his forehead, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.
Cassian stopped a few paces away from the edge of the ring, watching silently.
*THWACK.*
Aurelian spun around to deliver a heavy overhead strike, but his eyes caught Cassian standing there. He froze mid-swing, his sword hovering in the air. His crimson eyes flashed with immediate irritation.
"I thought I told you to stay away from me," Aurelian spat, lowering the heavy iron blade with a hard thud onto the dirt. He wiped the sweat from his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
"Did you come out here to play the concerned father now?"
Cassian didn't flinch. He walked forward slowly, resting both hands on his cane as he stopped just outside Aurelian's striking distance.
"I didn't come out here to act like a father," Cassian said softly, his voice low and steady.
"I was just passing by but then I realized that your stance is quite terrible."
Aurelian's jaw tightened.
"What?"
"Your weight is entirely on your back leg, and your shoulders are tense," Cassian said, pointing his cane toward Aurelian's feet. "You are swinging with raw anger, not skill. If you were facing a real opponent right now, you would have dropped your sword three swings ago."
"Don't lecture me on swordplay!" Aurelian snapped, stepping closer and brandishing the training blade.
"Uncle Lucien and my father taught me everything I know. I don't need advice from someone who spent the last fifteen years lying in a bed!"
"They taught you how to fight," Cassian replied evenly, looking directly into Aurelian's furious red eyes.
"They didn't teach you to waste your breath beating up a wooden post just because you are mad at me."
Aurelian gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white around the hilt.
"I hate you."
"I know," Cassian said quietly. "You made that very clear upstairs."
"Then go back inside!" Aurelian raised his voice, his chest heaving. "Go back inside with your mother, your sister, and your excuses! Stop looking at me like you expect me to fall into your arms! You are a stranger to me, Cassian. You're just a ghost wearing a crown!"
Cassian went silent for a long moment. He looked at his son's shaking hands, seeing right through the harsh words to the deep, unhealed wound underneath and then he sighed.
"You're right," Cassian finally said.
Aurelian blinked, caught off guard by the sudden admission.
"I am a stranger to you," Cassian continued, stepping closer despite his stiff legs. "I wasn't here when you took your first steps. I wasn't here when you broke your arm, or when you won your first spar. I missed every single moment of your life, and no amount of apologies will ever give those years back to you. If you want to hate me for the rest of your life, then you have every right to."
Cassian lowered his cane and reached for a wooden practice sword resting on a nearby rack. He tossed his cane onto the grass, steadying himself on his feet.
"So don't hold it back," Cassian said, raising the wooden sword into a basic defensive guard.
"If your hatred is really that deep, come strike me down right now. Show me what nineteen years of anger feels like."
Aurelian stared at him in disbelief, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gripped his iron training sword.
The heavy double doors of the courtyard terrace slammed open with a sharp, resonant echo against the stone walls.
"That is enough!"
Sora's voice cut through the cold air like a blade.
Before Aurelian could drive his iron training sword forward, Lucien appeared in a blur of shadow. His boots hit the dirt between father and son, his drawn steel longsword effortlessly catching Aurelian's heavy iron blade with a dull, resonant,
*CLANG.*
With a slight flick of his wrist, Lucien disarmed the boy, sending Aurelian's sword spinning through the air before it plunged blade-first into the patch of grass nearby.
"Stand down, Aurelian," Lucien commanded, his voice low and laced with absolute authority. He didn't raise his voice, but the sudden density of black mana radiating from his body froze the courtyard instantly.
Aurelian stumbled back, his chest heaving as he wiped sweat and stray tears from his face. He glared past Lucien at Cassian, who stood unmoving with his wooden practice sword raised, his pale face showing no fear whatsoever.
Sora rushed down the stone steps, his long silk robes sweeping across the dirt as he positioned himself directly in front of Cassian. He grabbed the wooden practice blade from Cassian's hands and tossed it aside, turning to glare fiercely at both of them.
"Have you both lost your minds?" Sora hissed, his eyes flashing with genuine fury. "Cassian, your body has barely recovered from fifteen years of immobility! You can barely stand without a cane, yet you stand here inciting a duel with your own son?"
Cassian sighed softly, leaning down to pick up his wooden walking cane from the grass.
"Sora, I was merely—"
"Do not 'Sora' me!" Sora snapped, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You are completely reckless! And you, Aurelian!" Sora turned his fierce gaze toward the teenager, who immediately winced and looked down at his boots. "Raising a steel weapon against your father? Have I taught you no discipline over these past nineteen years?"
"He told me to!" Aurelian yelled back, his voice cracking with built-up rage. "He stood there mocking my stance! He acts like he can just waltz back into our lives and start playing the master swordsman!"
"He is your father, Aurelian, not your enemy!" Sora shouted.
"But he is a stranger to me!" Aurelian screamed back, tears finally breaking past his lower lashes and tracking through the dirt on his cheeks. "He left us! He left you! And now he comes back expecting everyone to bow down and pretend the last fifteen years never happened!"
Silence fell over the courtyard.
Lucien slowly sheathed his blade, his expression softening as he looked at the heartbroken boy. He stepped forward and placed a heavy, gloved hand on Aurelian's shaking shoulder.
"Aurelian," Lucien said quietly. "Your anger is valid. You suffered because he wasn't here. But striking him down will not erase the nineteen years you spent waiting for him."
Aurelian pulled his shoulder away from Lucien's grip, biting his lower lip until it bled. He looked at Cassian one last time—his eyes cold, hurt, and brimming with bitter resentment—before turning on his heel and sprinting out of the training grounds toward the outer estate woods.
Sora let out a long, ragged breath, resting his face in his hands as the boy vanished past the treeline.
Cassian stood silently, resting his hands on his cane, watching the empty dirt path where his son had just fled.
Sora lowered his hands from his face and turned to Cassian, his eyes burning with a sharp, immediate anger.
"What were you thinking, Cassian?" Sora demanded, his voice dropping into a tense, dangerous tone as he stepped right into Cassian's space.
"You woke up less than twenty-four hours ago after many years of cold coma. Your muscles are practically paper! If Aurelian had landed one full-force blow with that iron training sword, he could have shattered your ribs!"
Cassian leaned a bit heavier on his cane, his posture remaining composed despite the harsh reprimand.
"He needed a target, Sora. Leaving his anger bottled up inside was only making him bitter."
"And offering yourself as a target is your grand solution?" Sora snapped, throwing his hands up. "You haven't changed one bit! You still throw yourself into dangerous situations without thinking about the people who have to pick up the pieces afterward!"
"Sora is right," Lucien added, stepping up beside them. His tone was far calmer, but the weight in his voice was unmistakable.
"You are missing the whole point here, Cassian. Aurelian isn't just angry that you left—he's terrified of losing control. Forcing him into a physical fight to 'vent' only made him feel like you were mocking his pain."
Cassian looked between the two of them, his eyes dimming slightly. The small defensive wall he had put up crumbled.
"I don't know how to talk to him," Cassian confessed quietly, his voice barely carrying over the mountain breeze.
"On Earth, I was just a student. I didn't raise a child. I didn't watch him grow up. I came back hoping I could just... step into the role, but every word I say seems to be the wrong one."
Sora's expression softened slightly, though his shoulders remained rigid. He let out a slow sigh, reaching out to steady Cassian by the elbow.
"You can't fix nineteen years of absence with one dramatic duel, Cassian," Sora said softly. "He doesn't want Crown Prince Cassian the sword master right now. He just wanted a father who was actually there."
Lucien crossed his arms over his chest. "Give him space for today. Go inside, sit down with your mother and sister, and let your body heal. Sora and I will make sure Aurelian comes back safely from the woods."
Cassian nodded slowly, looking down at his cane.
"Alright. I'm sorry... to both of you."
*****
A few minutes later after the exchange at the training court.
The heavy oak doors of the dining hall swung open with a slow, heavy creak.
Inside, the warm glow of magic-lit brass chandeliers cut through the cold mountain evening, illuminating a long mahogany table laden with roasted meats, steamed root vegetables, and warm bread.
Lady Fransia sat at the head of the table, her hair immaculately pinned, though her eyes were filled with quiet concern as she conversed with Zelda. Cassian sat to her right, his wooden cane resting against his knee, looking pale and exhausted as he nursed a cup of warm tea. Lucien stood near the hearth, leaning against the mantle with his arms crossed over his chest.
The chatter in the room instantly died the moment Sora and Aurelian stepped over the threshold.
Aurelian kept his head down, his bruised right hand cleanly wrapped in Sora's silk handkerchief. His eyes were still slightly red, but his posture was no longer rigid with defensive rage. Sora walked half a step beside him, a calm, protective hand resting lightly on the boy's back.
Lady Fransia set her fork down with a soft click against her porcelain plate. "Aurelian, my dear..." she began gently, her voice full of maternal warmth.
"I'm sorry for storming off earlier, Grandmother," Aurelian said quietly, his voice raspy as he finally looked up, avoiding Cassian's gaze entirely. "And for creating a scene in the courtyard."
"There is nothing to apologize for, sweet child," Fransia replied softy, gesturing to the empty seat beside Zelda.
"Come, sit down. The food is still warm."
Aurelian nodded, quietly pulling out his chair next to Zelda, who offered him a soft, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder as he sat down. Sora took his place at the table across from Cassian.
Cassian watched his son carefully from across the table.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something—perhaps another apology, or a word of caution about his wrapped hand—but Lucien gave a very subtle, firm shake of his head from near the fireplace.
Give him space, the gesture clearly said.
Cassian closed his mouth, taking a slow sip of his tea instead. The silence over the table was heavy, but it was no longer volatile.
Sora reached for a serving dish, breaking the tension as he served a portion of roasted vegetables onto Aurelian's plate. "The stew is exceptional tonight, Fransia. You and the kitchen staff truly outdid yourselves."
"They were happy to prepare a proper feast," Zelda chimed in, smiling warmly at her family. "It isn't every day we share a table with a Crown Prince."
Zelda teased and Cassian offered his sister a small, mocking smile, though his heart remained heavy. He looked down at his own plate, realizing that rebuilding this family wouldn't happen overnight—it would take patience, silence, and perhaps a very long time.
*****