Part Three

The Wells' Family Legacy

"Woah,” Thomas breathed out as they crested the top of the hill. There, just a few yards away, was Castle Tascela. It looked massive, towering above the large village sprawled around it. There were four towers on each corner of the castle and a wall formed the perimeter of the grounds, enclosing it all into its own separate world. The setting sun bathed it in an orange light, casting a nightmarish look on it. Castle Tascela was, quite easily, the largest and most beautiful building Thomas had ever seen before. “It’s huge.”

He stopped, Braya slowing down as well. When he realized that they had stopped following him, Hunter stopped his horse a few feet in front of them, turning around to face them. “Welcome to Castle Tascela.” He gestured to the castle in front of them.

“You said you lived here for years?” Braya asked, looking just as shocked as Thomas by the sight in front of her.

Hunter nodded. He turned to gaze at the castle. “For seven years, I considered it my home. Now, I don’t know what to call it.”

Thomas shrugged. “It’s still home. I don’t live at the orphanage in Ridgecrest anymore, yet it’ll always hold that title for me. At least, until I find a new place to call home.” He hadn’t found that at Kathleen’s family bakery, but there was still a chance he could find that with Matheson. “So my father is somewhere in there?”

“Yep.” Hunter turned back around to look at Thomas and Braya. “Braya, are you going into the castle with Thomas or do you want to stay with me?”

Braya hesitated, looking at the castle while she considered her answer. “How strict are they on security?”

“I didn’t even think about that one.” Hunter thought for a second then said, “You would probably have to give them a good reason for staying the night there or they would act pretty suspicious. With how large the village is, you can easily pass by without suspicion.”

“Where are you staying?” Thomas asked.

Hunter gestured to the forest on their right. “In there.” He glanced over at Braya. “It’s up to you. I’m good with whatever you decide.”

Braya bit her lip as she thought. “I’ll stay with you,” she decided after a few seconds.

“Then this is where we leave you, Thomas.” Hunter turned his attention back onto his friend. “At the gate, tell the guards your name and who your father is. With any luck, he’s at the castle already.”

Thomas shifted in his saddle, suddenly feeling nervous at the idea of going into the castle without Hunter and Braya at his side. “Are you sure you can’t go with me?”

Hunter shook his head. “I can’t or I would be arrested. But I’ll be in the forest. If you need anything, you can find me. Just follow the trail and, eventually, you’ll come to a clearing. That’ll be where Braya and I are.” Thomas nodded reluctantly. Taking that as a sign that he was ready, Hunter spun his horse around and headed into the forest. “Good luck!” he called behind him.

Braya turned her horse to face the direction that Hunter had gone in, but paused before following him any further. She looked over at Thomas. “Remember what I said,” she warned. “Be careful.” With those parting words, she left, heading into the forest.

Thomas swallowed nervously then looked back at the castle. Somewhere in there was his father. Somewhere in there was a person he longed to meet. Somewhere in there was a man his mother had tried her hardest to protect him from.

“Come on, Angelina,” he whispered to his horse. With a flick of her ear, she started forward, following the path down the hill and towards the castle gates. With every step forward, the castle seemed to grow larger and, by the time he had made it to the walls, he had to crane his neck upwards to see the top of it.

When he reached the gates, he was met with two guards, one of whom had his hand on the pommel of his sword. Though his grip was loose on it and he had an air of tiredness around him, the guard seemed more than capable of using it at a moment's notice. Thomas stammered, unsure of what to say. The sight of the sword was reminding him of his experience with the Aspayan soldier at the Ridgecrest Inn a couple of weeks ago.

"What can I do for you?" the guard with his hand on his sword asked.

"I, uh," Thomas started to say. Then, he took a deep breath and said, "Good evening, sir. My name is Thomas..." He hesitated, not knowing if he should use Hayes, Fields, or Wells. Almost immediately, he crossed out the idea of using Kathleen’s current last name. He hadn’t felt very welcome in her new family, so there was no point in introducing himself using that name. He also hadn’t met his father just yet, so there was still a chance that he would find himself disconnected from him as well, making him decide to not use Matheson’s last name to introduce himself. That only left him with one option: using the surname he had used for as long as he could remember. “Thomas Hayes, the son of Matheson Wells.”

The guard blinked and then started to laugh. “You expect me to believe that you’re the son of the Aspayan Hero?”

Thomas shifted, twisting the reins in his hands nervously. “I am,” he insisted.

“He does look like him,” the second guard at the gates said. He was looking at Thomas appraisingly, looking at him closely with his brown eyes. They were a darker shade than Braya’s, looking less like the color of chocolate and more the color of bark from an oak tree. “It wouldn’t hurt to tell Advisor Wells about this boy’s claims.”

The first guard blinked, apparently not believing the other one. “But if we’re wrong…” His voice trailed off, making Thomas wonder what he was planning on finishing his sentence with.

“If we’re wrong, we’re wrong.” The second guard shrugged. “If he’s actually telling the truth and we turn him away, we would be in far worse trouble.” The guard turned his attention back onto Thomas. Even with his helmet on, Thomas could easily spot his fiery red hair, a color that clashed with the red Aspayan uniform he had on. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties and Thomas wondered briefly how long he had been in the Aspayan Army. Depending on his age, he could’ve been a part of the initial attack on Malin, helping the Empire to begin their world domination quest. From his accent alone, Thomas knew that he was from Aspaya, not Malin nor Tascela. “Leave your horse here. Someone will take him to the stables later.”

“Her,” Thomas quickly corrected, dismounting Angelina. Seeing the guard tilt his head to the side, Thomas rephrased his amendment. “My horse is a mare, sir.”

The guard nodded in understanding. “Well, someone will take her to the stables.” After Thomas handed his horse’s reins to the other guard, he turned sharply on his heel, heading through the castle walls, saying, “Come with me.” With a moment’s hesitation, Thomas started after him.

Only to be hit with a bustling crowd of people moving around. Despite the fact that there was a reasonably-sized town just outside of the castle, there appeared to be a small city in the space between the walls and the castle itself. A marketplace stood to Thomas’ left and people wandered from stall to stall, looking for the best priced-items. Children ran around, playing some sort of game as they squeezed past the other people walking around. Their parents called after them, some sounding exasperated and others sounding angry. Just a few feet ahead of them sat the actual castle, looking huge in Thomas’ eyes. He gazed upon it, surprised that no one else seemed awed to be in the presence of such a large building.

“That’s the stables,” the guard said, pointing to a building to their right. “And that is the main entrance to the castle.”

Thomas followed his gesture to gape at the open doors. Women and men in rich clothing, the fanciest and most expensive clothing Thomas had ever seen, were walking in and out of the castle doors. As they passed through the tall doors, Thomas craned his neck upwards, tracing the arched ceiling. Tall, ornate columns held it up, intricate designs on the top and bottom of them. In front of him was a large marble staircase, heading up to the second floor. As he followed the guard to the right of the staircase, Thomas’ eyes were fixated on the tapestries hanging on the walls. They were woven beautifully, each one depicting a family within them. Based on their clothing and the crowns on their heads, they were past rulers of Tascela. Thomas paused at the last of the tapestries, which appeared to be the newest of the tapestries, leading Thomas to believe that it belonged to the current ruling family of Tascela.

In it were three people, a tall man with sharp features standing up, a hand placed on the woman’s shoulder. He had gray hair, a crown upon it. His gray eyes reminded Thomas of Ms. Jesse’s, appearing to look deeply within Thomas’ soul. The woman standing next to him looked far more friendly than him, a warm smile on her lips and black hair that she had in tight curls to keep it up near her ears. Her brown eyes spoke of warmth and friendliness, though it seemed that there was an edge to them, as if she had a side to her that warned the viewer to not mess with her. Both of her hands were placed on a chair, a chair occupied by a girl a couple of years younger than Thomas. She sat straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and poised. Her lips were turned upwards to form a small, almost hesitant smile. She had her mother’s black hair, though she had it in a tight side braid, letting it fall near her hands. Her eyes were the same color as her father, though they had more warmth in them than his.

“The Richter family.” Whirling around in surprise, Thomas found that the guard had stopped with him, standing behind him. “They have ruled Tascela for five generations now.”

“What are their names?” Thomas asked.

The guard blinked in surprise. “You don’t know about your own royal family?”

Thomas shook his head. “I grew up in Malin, not Tascela. I know about the Malin rulers, but little about the Richters.”

The man frowned. “Advisor Wells is from Tascela, though.”

Thomas gave the guard a confused look. “How do you know where my father is from?”

The guard shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I have known your father for over a decade now, ever since he first joined Aspaya’s forces.”

Thomas blinked. “Really?”

The guard nodded. “Yes. Now, to answer your question from before, that is King Charles, Queen Andrea, and their daughter--Princess Jacquelyn.” Then, he continued walking down the hallway.

Thomas hurried after him. “What’s your name, sir?” he asked, realizing that the guard had failed to provide that information.

The guard was silent for a moment, appearing slightly hesitant to answer Thomas’ question. Finally, when Thomas was certain that he was never going to get an answer, he said, “Samuel Atkins. You can call me Sam, though.”

Thomas nodded. “Where’s Matheson?”

“Advisor Wells,” Sam started to say, placing emphasis on Thomas’ father’s title, almost like he found it rude for Thomas to simply call him by his first name, regardless of their relationship to one another, “is eating dinner with the royal family and the rest of the court.”

Immediately, Thomas was interested in what the rest of the court entailed. Before he could ask anymore questions, though, Sam stopped in front of a closed set of double doors. “Wait here.” He pushed open the doors and Thomas craned his neck to look into the room. Before the doors shut completely, he was able to see that inside was a large dining room, three long tables in the shape of a U filled with food and people.

Upon the closing of the doors and the disappearance of his guide through the castle, Thomas waited impatiently. He couldn’t hear what was being said so he paced in front of the doors instead. After a minute or two, the doors opened again and Sam gestured for him to walk through the door that he was holding open.

Thomas stared wide-eyed at him before slowly walking into the dining room. He was seconds away from meeting his father. Excitement bubbled inside of him, but it was coupled with nervousness. Was his father going to be happy to see him? Or was he going to be upset? Would Thomas find it easy to talk with his father or was it going to be a struggle similar to how it was with Kathleen? Was he going to feel as if he belonged with his father like he so desperately wanted or was he going to feel invisible and unwanted like he had felt in his mother’s newly crafted family?

Sam left the door open while he turned to face the people at the table. “I present Thomas Hayes, the son of Advisor Matheson Wells, the Aspayan Hero and the Aspayan Advisor, to the court of King Charles Richter of Tascela Kingdom.” With that, he left the room, the door closing behind him. In the silence of the dining room, it sounded like it had slammed, the echo of it ringing in Thomas’ ears.

In the silence of the door closing, Thomas looked down at the table in the middle which formed the base of the U-shape. There in the center of it was the man from the tapestry Thomas had been looking at, King Charles. To his right sat Queen Andrea, the woman from the tapestry. And on the king’s left was the girl, Princess Jacquelyn. They looked exactly like the people in the tapestry, right down to the color of their clothes. Thomas’ gaze shifted to the right of the queen, his eyes drawn to the man sitting there.

He looked shocked, his mouth slightly open as he looked at Thomas. His eyes were the same shade of blue as Thomas’ eyes and his curly blonde hair looked exactly like Thomas’ hair, though the man’s hair was longer, falling slightly past his shoulders. Staring at him, Thomas was reminded of the words of Michael, of Kathleen, and of Sam.

“You look exactly like your father.”

“Forgive me, but you look very much like someone I used to know.”

“He does look like him.”

And, just as suddenly, Thomas realized who the man sitting beside Queen Andrea was: Matheson Wells, the Aspayan Hero and his biological father.

Matheson seemed to come to the same conclusion as Thomas at the same moment, for he stood up from his chair, staring at him. “Thomas?” he breathed out.

Thomas nodded, finding himself unable to speak as he took in his father for the first time in his life.

“My son.” The man blinked, appearing to chase away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He turned to face the other people in the room, who were watching the exchange with intense concentration.

“This is my son, who I haven’t seen in twelve--almost thirteen--years.” He looked back at Thomas, a wide smile on his face. Seeing it made Thomas smile as well, a feeling of warmth flooding through him. It chased away all of his questions, all of his doubts, and all his indecision about being here. Still, he felt some hesitation and there was a voice whispering in his mind that it could all change like it had with Kathleen, that there was still a chance that he wouldn’t belong here with Matheson just like he hadn’t at Kathleen’s.

“Well, Advisor,” a voice said. Thomas looked away from Matheson--the first time he had done so since realizing who the blonde man was--finding that King Charles had stood up. He was taller than Thomas’ father, making him realize that his father shared in his short stature. “I’m certain that you and your son”--he spared a glance at Thomas, looking hesitant and somewhat uncertain, two emotions that confused the boy--“have much to discuss.”

Matheson looked at the king, his smile becoming tighter. “Yes, we do. We will take our leave now.” He strode away from the table, heading for where Thomas stood. Upon reaching him, he placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder, guiding him towards the door. Thomas looked behind him to find King Charles was staring at him, his facial expression guarded. He looked…almost angry, Thomas realized, as if he disliked the sudden appearance of Thomas. Thomas frowned, trying to understand why he would already dislike him after a five-second meeting. Before he could figure it out, he and Matheson had left the dining room, the doors closing behind them.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Follow me,” his father said, beginning to walk down the hallway. “As the king so graciously pointed out, we have many things to talk about.”

Thomas quickly fell in step with Matheson. Similar to when he was talking with Kathleen for the first time, he didn’t know what to say now that he was meeting his father. “Where are we going?” he asked, settling upon a subject to discuss.

“My study,” Matheson answered, opening a door. Thomas walked through it, finding himself in a stairwell. “It’s on the fifth floor.” He began climbing the stairs, Thomas staying right behind him.

“On the fifth floor?” Thomas asked. “Why so far up?”

Matheson shrugged. “It’s where all the other advisors have their studies so that’s where mine is as well.”

Thomas frowned, hearing a word that many people had used so far in the ten minutes he had been inside the walls of Castle Tascela. “What’s an advisor?”

Matheson laughed. “What’s an advisor?” he repeated, still laughing. “Do you know nothing about the kingdom of your birth?”

Thomas felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. It was exactly like he had feared: there was no place for him with his father, not if his questions and confusion were met with laughter. He looked away, not answering Matheson’s question.

“Forgive me.” Thomas’ head snapped up, his eyes meeting Matheson’s apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It’s fine,” he said, prepared to let it go.

But that didn’t seem to be enough for his father. “It’s not. But I still wonder why you don’t know about Tascela’s government.”

Thomas shrugged. “I didn’t grow up here. It might be my birthplace, but besides that, it means nothing to me. I’m from Malin.”

Matheson blinked. “Malin? Is that where you’ve been all these years?” When Thomas nodded, he asked, “Why?”

He ran a hand through his hair, not sure how to answer that question knowing that it was because Kathleen wanted to hide him from the man he was talking with. “It’s complicated. After you left, my mother sent me to an orphanage in Ridgecrest Fief, which is where I was raised.”

“An orphanage,” his father scoffed, looking away from him. “No son of mine should have been raised in such a place.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Thomas defended, thinking about Ms. Jesse, the twins, and the other kids.

“Still.” Matheson shook his head. “When your mother and I got married, I was an archer apprentice. Even though I wasn’t fully a Tascelan Archer, I was still treated as an officer of the Tascelan Army. It was an honor and I treated it as such. And then I was dismissed, told I was unfit to actually become an archer.” Near the end of his words, his tone had become disdainful, bordering on bitter. Seeming to realize that, his father shook his head before continuing to speak. “But I arrived at Aspaya and rose in their ranks, quickly becoming an officer in their army. Now here I am, an advisor in Tascela’s court.” He paused on the landing leading onto the third floor and looked back at Thomas, who had paused on the step before the landing. Gesturing to the stairwell they were currently in, he said, “You should have been with me, being raised in literal castles like this one. Not in an orphanage in a kingdom where you weren’t even born.”

“Then why wasn’t I?” Thomas asked before he could stop himself. Seeing Matheson blink, he hurried to say, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

But his father only shook his head. “No, it’s a valid question and one that you feel that I should answer. And I will, once we get up to my office.” He started back up the stairs, not waiting for Thomas before doing so.

Thomas nodded, though he knew that his father had already removed himself from the conversation by turning around. He followed Matheson up the rest of the way, following him down the hallway. They turned to the right, walking down another hallway and heading to the last door on the right. Matheson opened the door, gesturing for Thomas to walk into it. He looked around, finding papers strewn everywhere.

“Forgive me for the mess,” his father said, making his way past the spot where Thomas had stopped. “I arrived here at the castle just a mere two days ago, shocked to see that there was no available office for me. Though I quickly fixed that fact by pointing out that the person who used to have this office is no longer part of the Tascelan Court.”

Thomas debated asking about who that person was and why they had lost their place on the court, but decided against it in the end. He had his own questions he wanted to hear his father answer.

Matheson picked up the pile of papers sitting on a chair, placing the stack on the ground. “You can sit here.”

Thomas did so, waiting for his father to sit down on the chair behind the desk before picking up the conversation from the third floor landing. “So why were you gone for so long?”

Matheson chuckled. “You don’t like waiting, do you?”

He shifted in his seat. “I guess I don’t, not when I’ve been waiting for your answer for years now.”

His father nodded, a sharp and decisive action. “Then I should start my story. First and foremost, Thomas, know that I have always cared for you. You were never far from my thoughts and I have always wondered where you were and how you were doing.” Thomas nodded, surprised that his father’s words were nearly identical to Kathleen’s words from last night. They brought with him a sense that, at his birth, he had two caring parents who did everything they could for him. But that still didn’t change the fact that Thomas grew up without them, without knowing what their names were or even where he was born. “My biggest regret in life was leaving you and Kathleen. I can’t express to you how much I wished that I didn’t go, how much I wish that I had stayed, and I can’t give you anything that would excuse my actions. If you hate me for my decision, I completely understand. If you want nothing to do with me because of my actions that night, I understand. In fact, it would surprise me if you don’t hate me or if you still want to be here with me.”

Thomas looked at the honesty in his father’s clear blue eyes, seeing true sadness and regret swimming in them. The look on Matheson’s face tore at him, evaporating any chance of him harboring any anger or hatred over his decision to leave. All that mattered to him at that moment was striving to never see that expression again.

“I don’t,” he hurried to say. “I don’t hate you nor am I angry at you. It’s in the past. What matters to me now is your current self.”

Matheson went silent, staring at Thomas, searching his face for something that Thomas didn’t know. Appearing to have found it, a small smile graced his father’s face, chasing away the look of despair that Thomas had been so keen to fix.

“Thank you, Thomas,” he said. “It means the world to me that you would still be here at my side, even knowing how I failed you. I promise to not fail you again and to be a father that you can be proud of.” He paused before continuing his story.

“After leaving behind Tascela, angry at myself for leaving you and Kathleen, angry at the archers--especially my former mentor”--Thomas shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with Matheson speaking about his old mentor, knowing that he was talking about Michael--“I headed east, content to get as far as possible as I could from Tascela and all my failures there. I found myself in the south of Malin, standing on a cliff overlooking a waterfall, far above a lake. I didn’t know what waterfall that I was beside, nor even where exactly in Malin I was in, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was the fact that I had left you and my wife. All I kept thinking about was that I had failed at becoming a Tascelan Archer, that I had failed my family, that I had failed my mentor. Staring down that waterfall, I realized that I had nothing to live for anymore. I had no plans for the future, I had no place in the family that I had helped to create but had ended up abandoning, and no motivation to fix my situation. In my mind, I was at the end of everything. So why not just end the last thing I had: my life?” Thomas stared at Matheson, not believing what he was hearing. To hear how heartbroken he was after everything that had happened, to know just how close he came to not ever having the chance to meet his father--it scared him to his core. Softly, his voice so quiet that Thomas had to strain to hear him, Matheson whispered, “And that was where they found me.”

“Who?” Thomas asked, desperate to understand what his father was saying. “Who found you?”

Matheson cleared his throat, speaking at a normal volume now. “Aspayan scouts. There had been rumors about a war between Aspaya and Malin and it seemed that they had been correct. King Elliott--for he was king then, not emperor--had sent spies into Malin. And they had accidentally stumbled upon me. They captured me and took me back to their commanding officer. I told them who I was: a man who had lost everything, a failed apprentice to a Tascelan Archer, a horrible husband, and an even worse father. Upon hearing that I used to be an officer of the Tascelan Army, they wanted to kill me, wanted to destroy any evidence about the fact that their kingdom was planning on starting a war with Malin. And I was willing to let them. I had lost everything that made me, well, me, so why not lose the only thing I had left? I was already contemplating leaving this world when looking down that waterfall, so why not just let the Aspayan spies kill me instead? I closed my eyes, preparing for the end, but then…I thought of you.”

He paused, looking Thomas in the eye. “I thought of you.” Matheson repeated. “I thought about how much I care about you, how happy I was when you were born, how much you had come to mean to me in just the three years you had been alive at that point. I thought about my last words to your mother, how I had promised her that I would be back, for you. I had told her that I would return one day, return to Tascela, return to see you again. And I realized at that moment how much I wanted to do that, to fulfill my promise. I realized that I couldn’t die. Not then, not without ever seeing you again. And so, I gave them a deal. I would help King Elliott take over Malin Kingdom. In exchange, they would let me go afterwards so that I could be with you again. I wasn’t expecting them to agree, but--for some reason I still don’t understand--they did. They took me to Castle Aspaya after that, bringing me in front of King Elliott. I told him my story, telling him that I was a desperate father who wanted nothing more than to be with his son again. I stressed to him that I would do anything, absolutely anything, to see you again. And he believed me, letting me be in his army, just until Malin had fallen.

“And, two long years later, the days filled with bitter fighting and the nights filled with thinking endlessly about you--wondering about where you were, what you were doing, how you were--Malin was conquered, King Elliott became an emperor, and Aspaya Kingdom became the Aspayan Empire. It was just a little over a week after our victory, a couple of days after the royal family of Malin was killed, when I went to Emperor Elliott, reminding him of the promise he had given to me when I first joined the ranks of the Aspayan Army. I begged him to let me go, to allow me to travel back to Tascela to see you again.”

Matheson’s face contorted in anger. “But he denied me. He told me I was so influential in Malin’s defeat that he wanted--no, needed--my help in taking over Tascela. Because it wasn’t enough for him to take over Malin. No, he longed to rule over the entire continent of Esmaya. I told him that he was crazy, that I would no longer have anything to do with the dreams of a mad man. He got angry at that point. He threatened to kill me, but I told him to try, to attempt to follow me back to Tascela. At that point, Emperor Elliott realized that it wasn’t the threat of my death that concerned me. No, it was the threat of your death. I knew you were only five at that time, nowhere near capable of defending yourself from an attack. If the emperor wanted you dead, you would be, and there was nothing I could do to prevent that. And so he told me that he would kill you, my son, if I didn’t help him in taking over Tascela Kingdom.”

Matheson stopped talking, a distant look in his eyes as he stared off into the distance. “And I knew that he was capable of doing so. He had no qualms about killing an innocent five-year-old boy. I knew he would do it, if only to aid him in his goal of being emperor of the entire known world, if only to ensure that he had my help. So I agreed. I agreed to wait to see you again, just until after Aspaya had taken over Tascela.

“It broke my heart, knowing that I was helping him to destroy the kingdom of my birth, the kingdom that I had, once upon a time, been a sworn protector of, a Tascelan Archer apprentice devoted to protecting the citizens of Tascela Kingdom. But I knew it had to be done. It had to be done to ensure your safety, to prevent Emperor Elliott from killing you, to see you again. And, when I reminded myself of how I had failed to become an archer, it seemed almost fitting that I would return, not to reclaim my title as an officer of the Tascelan Army, but as an attacker, focused solely on taking it over. I reminded myself of how angry I was, how bitter I was, and I poured it out upon the kingdom.

“It took longer to take over Tascela than Malin, five years total in fact, but we did it. Just three months ago, I managed to help the emperor accomplish his goal. Again, I approached him, telling him that I wanted leave to find my son. Again, he denied me, claiming that he needed my help to defeat Eskil, the fourth kingdom of Esmaya and the only kingdom yet to not be in the Aspayan Empire’s control. He threatened again to kill you if I refused.” Matheson paused, staring at Thomas. “And I offered him a new deal. With Tascela defeated, there was nothing left for me to return to. I knew after spending twelve years away from her, your mother would hate me. I even knew that there was a chance that you would hate me for my disappearance. If that was true, the only thing I had left was my life, my desire to see you again, and my title as the Aspayan Hero, Emperor Elliott’s right-hand man. If I left to see you, I would lose my title, and there was a chance that Emperor Elliott would send men after me for my desertion and kill us both. And, once I saw you and if I found out that you did, in fact, hate me for what I had done, I would lose the only thing keeping me alive, my desire to see you again. And I would be back to where I was that day, staring down a waterfall in southern Malin, a failure of a man, a husband, and a father. And I wouldn’t go back there. I refused to. So, I told Emperor Elliott that I would return to his side as soon as I saw you. I promised that I would meet you and that I would then travel back to Castle Aspaya to help him in his final step of world domination.

“And he agreed. He gave me the title of the Aspayan Advisor in the Tascelan Court, telling me that I was in charge of overseeing the transition of power from King Charles to Emperor Elliott. It gave me a chance to be here in Tascela, to search for you, for I would have never thought that your mother would’ve sent you to Malin. I traveled as fast as I could, but it still took me weeks to make it to Castle Tascela. While I was traveling, I told the soldiers in my command to search for a boy around your age that looked vaguely like me.” Matheson paused, glancing at Thomas. “I didn’t realize just how much you would grow up to look like me.”

“I didn’t know how much I looked like you, either,” Thomas admitted, not mentioning that he had never even thought about who he resembled as he had no way to know if he looked more like his father or mother. He then added, “I think I came across one of your soldiers that you sent out.”

His father blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Thomas nodded. “Just a few days before I left the orphanage to come here, there was an Aspayan soldier asking me questions about my parents and about where I was from. He mentioned that there were rumors of you having a son, but he didn’t say anything after that. It never crossed my mind at that moment that I might be the son you were looking for.”

And it hadn’t. It hadn’t even entered his mind even when Hunter started talking about those rumors. It wasn’t until Hunter had said, out-loud, that he was Matheson’s son that Thomas had thought about that possibility.

Matheson shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe that they had managed to find you. I thought that I would be the only one to be able to.” Matheson shook his head again, the motion seemingly done to clear his mind. “But that’s beside the point. All that matters is that you’re here now. I told you my story, Thomas, and I hope you understand now why things had to be the way they were. I was gone for so long, my son, and I apologize sincerely for that. I never wanted to. I never wanted you to grow up without knowing about me, but the Empire and the emperor gave me no choice. Like I said earlier, I understand if you hate me for that.”

Silence met his words, a silence that seemed to stretch around them, holding them tight in its grip. In it, Thomas thought about what his father had told him, comparing it to Kathleen’s story.

Matheson’s story was different from Kathleen’s story. In her story, Kathleen stressed that she had done what she had done in the name of love, that she was simply trying her hardest to protect him from his father. But her current actions, her actions since that day, seemed to have been done in effort of moving on, to forget all about Thomas--at least, it seemed that way to him. She had remarried, had another son, and there was no place for him in her new family. In the past, she had loved him more than anything in the world--he knew that--but in the present, he couldn’t say the same.

Matheson’s story, however, was the complete opposite. True, his initial actions regarding Thomas had been terrible--after all, he had simply walked away from Thomas and Kathleen when he had failed his final exam. After that, though, everything he had done had been to see Thomas again. To find him again. To be the father that he should’ve been from the start. It appeared that Matheson was just as desperate to have Thomas with him as Thomas wanted to be with him. That simple thought, the simple knowledge that his father had done everything just to be with him again, wiped away any mistakes his father had done twelve years ago when he left. It told Thomas that all his doubts that his father wouldn’t want him, that there was no place here for Thomas, that he didn’t belong at his father’s side, were all wrong.

He had a father named Matheson Wells. A father that loved him, that cared about him. He had a father who had been desperate to see him again, whose actions in the past twelve years had all been done for the sake of finding him again. He belonged with him, had a place at his side, and would always be wanted here.

It was different from what he had experienced with Kathleen, Henry, and Petrus, and was exactly what he had been looking for in the past twelve years, what he had been hoping to find when Hunter uttered the words “I can take you to Castle Tascela to meet your father.” And, looking up to find his father staring at him, holding his breath while he waited to hear Thomas’ reaction to his story, Thomas knew there was only one response he could give, and it was something he hadn’t even told Kathleen when he had met her and heard her story behind why he hadn’t lived with her.

“I’m proud to call you my father. I love you.”

Matheson sucked in a breath, his eyes blinking rapidly in surprise. “I-I--” he stuttered, appearing to have been rendered speechless by Thomas’ declaration. “Thank you,” he finally said. “I’m happy to hear that and I’m glad that you’re here.” He leaned back in his seat, a smile gracing his face. “I’m sure you had a long journey and are tired. Let me show you to your room.” He stood up, beginning to walk out of the room. Thomas followed behind him, the excitement and happiness running through him making it impossible for him to even contemplate the idea of being tired.

Everyone’s words of concern and caution had been proved wrong. Matheson wasn’t evil, he wasn’t a bad person, Thomas need not be careful around him. The Aspayan Hero had turned out to be a normal person, a desperate father who wanted to atone for his past mistakes, who wanted nothing more than to be with his son. He was everything Thomas wanted him to be and more. He was real and was all that Thomas envisioned him to be.

The fictional version that he had of Kathleen had turned out to be false, but the fictional copy of Matheson had been proven correct. And it was that fact that let Thomas know that he had taken the right risk, that everything he had done and was still doing was the right thing to do.

And it gave him large amounts of elation, of excitement over learning more about his father, of joy at knowing the kind of person his father was.

Thomas finally had what he had always wanted: he knew who his parents were, he knew the truth about his family, and he had a father that he knew would always be there for him. Everything in his life had been made complete and there was nothing that could make Thomas think otherwise.