The mercenary and the man with striking features and brown hair walked together in the quiet corridors of the palace. The walls, adorned with tapestries and ornate carvings, echoed their footsteps as they made their way toward Crown Prince's chambers. The soft light filtering through the arched windows cast long shadows along their path.
Leander broke the silence first, his voice low and serious. "Since you're going to be his highness's tutor, there's something you need to know about him." He glanced around to ensure they were alone before continuing. "His highness can control darkness around him. If this information gets out, I'll personally hunt you to the end of the world."
Cedric nodded, absorbing the weight of the revelation. He could sense the distrust in Leander's eyes, a challenge that spoke volumes about their uneasy alliance.
Leander's expression hardened. "Just another good-for-nothing mercenary... I'll probably have to clean up your corpse before long."
They stopped in front of a large wooden door, intricately carved with symbols of the kingdom. Cedric turned to face Leander, a calm resolve in his eyes. "I've got this," he said simply, pushing the door open and stepping inside alone.
The room was bright with sunlight streaming in through the windows, accompanied by a gentle breeze that played with the curtains. Alaric stood before a large mirror, his gaze fixed on his reflection as if searching for answers within himself. He was a striking figure, with golden hair that shimmered in the light and eyes the color of fresh blood, a trait common to the imperial family.
Cedric moved silently to a nearby table and sat down, his presence a quiet but undeniable intrusion. He watched Alaric with a calm curiosity, waiting for the young king to acknowledge him.
Alaric's eyes finally flickered away from the mirror, narrowing as they locked onto Cedric. Without a word, he summoned the shadows in the room, twisting them into rope-like tendrils that shot toward Cedric, aiming to bind him.
But in an instant, Cedric was gone. Alaric blinked, and when he looked again, Cedric was standing right beside him, a calm but firm hand resting on his shoulder.
The young king tensed, surprise and confusion warring in his eyes. Cedric's calm gaze met his. "I know you're not just a child" Cedric said, his voice steady and composed. "Let's talk about how we can make things right."
Alaric, still on high alert, narrowed his eyes and summoned his power once more. The shadows in the room darkened and morphed, transforming into sharp, menacing weapons aimed at Cedric. Without hesitation, the shadowy spikes shot from all directions, converging on Cedric with lethal intent.
But just as the shadows were about to strike, Cedric vanished again. Alaric's eyes widened in surprise, the rapid movement of his target bewildering him. In the next instant, he felt a strong hand grab him from behind. The grip was unyielding, and before he could react, he was thrown onto the floor with a force that knocked the breath out of him.
Cedric then pinned him down effortlessly, his weight and skill holding Alaric in place. Alaric struggled, his muscles straining against the iron grip, but it was futile. A sword in Cedric's hand, the blade glinting ominously as it hovered dangerously close to Alaric's throat.
"Judging by how you react," Cedric continued, his voice calm but edged with steel, "you were probably a tyrant in your past life too."
Alaric's eyes flared with defiance, his breath coming in ragged gasps. With a surge of determination, he wriggled and struggled, trying to free himself from Cedric's grip. His pride and fury fueled his efforts, but Cedric's strength was unyielding.
In a swift, decisive motion, Cedric stabbed the sword into the floor next to Alaric's face, the blade vibrating with the impact. The cold steel was mere inches from his skin, a stark reminder of the power Cedric held over him.
Alaric's eyes widened in shock, the reality of his situation sinking in. His chest heaved with the effort of his struggles, and the defiance in his gaze was now mixed with a flicker of fear. Cedric leaned in closer, his expression unreadable, the weight of his presence pressing down on the young king.
"Now," Cedric continued, his voice low and firm, "will you please behave?"
Alaric's mind raced, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had always relied on his power to control others, to bend them to his will. But Cedric was different. His calm, unwavering demeanor and his ability to neutralize Alaric's attacks with such ease unsettled the young king.
Why did he need to change? He was born the ruler, destined to command and lead. It was everyone else who needed to change and obey him. He didn't trust Cedric, nor did he plan to. For now, he would comply, but only because he didn't see a way to win against Cedric just yet. His glare remained fixed on Cedric, defiant and unyielding.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the dust particles suspended in the air, creating an almost serene atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the confrontation.
Cedric slowly eased off, his grip loosening but still ready to act if necessary. He watched as Alaric's breathing steadied, the young king's eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. There was anger, yes, and a glimmer of fear, but his defiance never wavered.
The sword remained embedded in the floor, a silent testament to the power Cedric wielded. It served as a reminder that this was not a battle for dominance but a necessary step to curb Alaric's tyrannical tendencies.
Cedric extended a hand to help Alaric up, a gesture that symbolized the first step toward their uneasy alliance. Alaric hesitated, the internal struggle evident in his expression. Finally, he accepted the hand, allowing Cedric to pull him to his feet.
As they stood facing each other, the tension remained palpable, replaced by a fragile truce. Cedric's gaze never wavered, his resolve clear. "We have a lot of work to do," he said, his voice steady. "But it starts with understanding and accepting your past. Only then can we shape a better future."
Alaric nodded slowly, the weight of his past still heavy. He complied, but his distrust remained. The journey ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and trials but Alaric’s mind was already working on ways to regain control.
After hearing the noise inside quiet down, Leander hesitated for a moment before opening the door and stepping into the room, ready to drag another body out. He was surprised to find the mercenary still alive and breathing, standing over Alaric. Cedric noticed Leander's entrance, his eyes briefly flickering to the doorway.
Sensing the distraction, Alaric seized the opportunity to use his power. Shadows gathered and struck toward Cedric, but Cedric sensed the attack just in time and swiftly turned, kicking Alaric away.
"F- Your Highness!" Leander exclaimed, rushing in to help Alaric. He grabbed a nearby fire poker, his movements swift and determined. Without hesitation, Leander struck at Cedric, who blocked the attack with his sword.
Cedric tried to retaliate, swinging his sword at Leander, but Leander dodged the strike and countered with a swift blow. The fire poker clanged against Cedric's blade, the force of the impact reverberating through the room.
Leander continued his relentless assault, striking at Cedric with a fury that left Cedric feeling increasingly pressured. The fire poker moved with precision, each attack aimed to disarm and incapacitate.
Cedric parried another blow, his mind racing. Leander's skill was unexpected, forcing Cedric to adjust his tactics. He decided to use a fraction of his power, slowing down time just enough to gain a brief advantage. In the slowed world, he repositioned himself, aiming for a strategic strike.
As time resumed its normal pace, Cedric's sword moved with lightning speed, aimed at Leander's side. Leander barely managed to block it, his eyes widening in surprise at Cedric's sudden increase in speed. He countered with a powerful swing, but Cedric anticipated the move, using his enhanced reflexes to deflect it.
Leander pressed the attack, his movements fluid and deceptively simple. Cedric found himself on the defensive, blocking and parrying a series of rapid strikes. He tried to counter, but Leander's agility and speed made it difficult to find an opening.
The two circled each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Cedric's breathing was measured, but he could feel the strain of maintaining his defense against such an unexpected opponent. Leander’s strikes were relentless, each one pushing Cedric closer to the edge.
Cedric managed to deflect a particularly strong blow, redirecting it to the side. He took the opportunity to go on the offensive, swinging his sword with calculated precision. Leander met the attack head-on, his fire poker blocking the strike with a resounding clash. For a moment, they were locked in a struggle of strength, the tension palpable in the air.
Leander’s eyes never wavered, his focus intense. Cedric pushed harder, trying to break the deadlock, but Leander twisted his body, using the momentum to slip past Cedric’s guard. Another sharp clang echoed as their weapons collided, sparks flying from the impact.
Cedric adjusted his grip, his eyes narrowing. He needed to change his approach. He feinted left, then quickly swung right, but Leander anticipated the move, blocking it with ease. Leander’s combat skills were remarkable, each movement executed with a finesse that belied his role.
Leander's next strike came low, aiming for Cedric's legs. Cedric jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow. He countered with a downward slash, but Leander sidestepped, using the momentum to strike again with the fire poker. Cedric barely managed to block, the force of the blow sending vibrations up his arm.
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The room seemed to shrink around them, the fight intensifying with each passing second. Cedric could feel the sweat on his brow, his muscles straining against the relentless onslaught. He could see the same determination mirrored in Leander’s eyes, a silent testament to his resolve.
Just as Cedric began to sense an opening, the fight was abruptly interrupted by Alaric's power. Shadows surged forth, slashing both Cedric and Leander and sending them flying against the wall. The impact was jarring, and they struggled to regain their footing.
In that instant, shadows snaked around them, binding both Cedric and Leander tightly. Alaric stood over them, his eyes blazing with fury and determination. The shadows held them fast, leaving them at the mercy of the young king's formidable power.
Alaric, with shadows still binding Cedric and Leander, looked between the two men. "Who are both of you?" he demanded, his voice filled with the authority of a king despite his youthful appearance.
Leander, struggling against the shadows, responded first. "Your Highness, I am Leander, your personal attendant. I have always been by your side, pledging my loyalty and service to you. Please, try to remember me."
Alaric's brows furrowed in concentration. He searched his memories, but the faces and names from his childhood were hazy, obscured by the fog of years spent in power. He had never paid much attention to anyone during his youth, focused solely on his path to the throne.
As Alaric struggled to recall, Cedric took advantage of the moment. He moved silently towards the window, positioning himself so that the sunlight streamed in. The rays of light touched the shadows binding Cedric, and they began to dissolve, freeing him from their grasp.
Noticing Cedric’s movement, Alaric attempted to use his power again. But before he could react, Cedric swiftly closed the distance, grabbing Alaric and pinning him against the window. Cedric's arm locked around Alaric, immobilizing him with a firm but controlled hold.
Cedric turned back to face Leander, his voice calm but authoritative. "I am here to help Alaric," he said, his eyes meeting Leander's with unwavering resolve. "If I remember correctly, you need me, not the other way around."
Leander, still caught in the remnants of the shadows, met Cedric's gaze with a mixture of wariness and reluctant acceptance. He could see the determination in Cedric's eyes, a stark contrast to Alaric's confusion and fear. It was clear that Cedric's presence, though disruptive, might be the catalyst for the change they desperately needed.
Alaric, feeling Cedric's grip and hearing his words, began to realize the gravity of his situation. The man before him was not just another tutor or advisor; he was someone with the power and resolve to challenge him. For the first time, Alaric felt a glimmer of something he hadn't experienced in a long time—hope, mixed with a healthy dose of fear.
Cedric eased his hold slightly, allowing Alaric to stand more comfortably but keeping him within reach. "Now," Cedric said, his voice steady, "let's start this again. We have a lot of work to do, and it begins with understanding each other. Can you do that, Alaric?"
Alaric’s eyes flared with defiance once more. "You will address me by my rank. I am your king," he demanded, his voice edged with authority.
Cedric shook his head, his expression unyielding. "No, Alaric. The first thing we need to fix is your attitude. Respect is earned, not demanded. If you want to be a true leader, you need to learn humility and understand those you wish to lead."
Alaric opened his mouth to protest, but Cedric’s unwavering gaze silenced him. The young king realized that Cedric was not someone who would easily bend to his will. This man was different, and his uncompromising stance was a challenge Alaric had never faced.
The tension in the room was palpable as Alaric stood there, torn between his ingrained pride and the unsettling realization that Cedric might be right. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod, acknowledging the truth in Cedric’s words.
Alaric, still grappling with Cedric's challenging stance, felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The young body he now inhabited was not used to the strain of using his powers so intensely. With a sigh of resignation, he deactivated his powers, allowing the shadows to dissipate completely.
As the shadows dissolved, Leander found himself freed from their grip. He rubbed his wrists, his gaze shifting between Cedric and Alaric. While he didn't like the mercenary's audacious approach, he couldn't deny that Cedric had handled the situation with a skill and composure that might actually benefit Alaric.
Leander stepped forward, his expression a mixture of reluctance and resolve. "I still don't trust you," he said, his voice low but firm. "But if you can help his highness become the leader he needs to be, then I'm willing to assist you in any way I can."
Cedric nodded, acknowledging Leander's willingness to cooperate. "I appreciate your support," he said, his tone sincere. "My name is Cedric."
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> July 17th
>
> After a week of observing Alaric's personality during my lessons, it's clear that he is not the type to back down easily. He is hot-headed, power-hungry, self-centered, and violent.
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>
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> His stubbornness and aggression make me miss the simpler times when I was with Alex and Whiskers. Despite the challenges of guiding Alex through his new life, there was a sense of mutual respect and cooperation. Even Caspian, with his pirate's spirit and rebellious nature, was more cooperative than Alaric.
>
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> Come to think of it, I've sketched him while we were on The Second Wind. Maybe I should finish it.
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> Leander has tried multiple times to get through to Alaric, offering support and trying to reason with him. But it's like talking to a brick wall. Alaric's pride and defiance are so strong that any advice or guidance just bounces right off.
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> I need to find another way to reach him, to break through the wall he has built around himself. This will require a different approach.
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> https://i.imgur.com/LWwMsrW.png [https://i.imgur.com/LWwMsrW.png]
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> July 24th
>
> Alright, this is getting nowhere. Alaric's still not improving; he seems to hate other people, especially when commoners are mentioned.
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> I can guess the reason behind his regression now. Most likely due to either betrayal or rebellion.
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> I guess I'll have to use this other method. The emperor isn't going to like this, but this is the best way I can think of.
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>
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Cedric and Leander walked from the side palace, making their way to an audience with the emperor. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the palace grounds.
"This is not going to work," Leander said, his voice filled with doubt. "The emperor will never agree to this."
Cedric didn't respond, he remained silent as they approached the grand doors of the throne room. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside, Leander following close behind.
The emperor sat on his throne, his face lighting up with a smile as he saw them enter. "Ah, Cedric! Leander! It is good to see you both. For the first time in a long while, a tutor has managed to last longer than an hour with Alaric." His voice was lively, filled with a rare warmth.
But the emperor's smile faded quickly as Cedric made his request. "Your Majesty, I request permission to bring His Highness to live outside the palace for a time."
The chief advisor, standing beside the throne, looked scandalized. "This is an absurd request! Your Majesty, you should fire this man at once!"
The emperor raised his hand to stop the advisor, his gaze fixed on Cedric. "Explain your reasoning behind this request," he demanded.
Cedric met the emperor's eyes without flinching. "In order for His Highness to see the world, he needs to go out and experience it firsthand. Living among the citizens will teach him more about his kingdom and the people he is destined to rule than any lesson within these walls."
The emperor considered Cedric's words carefully. "And does Alaric agree to this plan?" he asked.
Cedric shook his head. "I do not plan to tell him, Your Majesty. But if you are skeptical, I will take Leander with us to ensure His Highness's safety and to provide additional support."
The emperor thought for a minute, the room silent with anticipation. Finally, he sighed, a mix of resignation and hope in his eyes. "Very well," he said. "I will allow this ridiculous request. But know this, Tutor—Alaric's well-being is your responsibility. Do not fail him."
Cedric bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not let you down."
As they left the throne room, Leander turned to Cedric, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I can't believe he agreed."
Cedric gave a small, determined smile. "This is just the start. We've got a long road ahead of us, but it's a necessary one."
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The rhythmic clatter of the horse-drawn carriage echoed through the still air, accompanied by the occasional creak of wood and jingle of harnesses. The steady sounds were almost soothing, a lullaby of travel.
Suddenly, a bump on the road jolted the carriage, causing Alaric to wake up abruptly. Disoriented, he looked around, realizing that this was not his room. Panic surged through him, and he thought the rebels had captured him again.
Without hesitation, he summoned his power, and the carriage door flew out from the force of his magic, splintering as it hit the ground. Alaric was ready to leap out when he heard Cedric’s calm voice from the driver’s seat.
"Go back inside, Alaric," Cedric commanded, his tone steady and firm.
Alaric paused, confused. He looked around and noticed the area they were traveling through. The road was flanked by treelines, the dense foliage suggesting they were on the outskirts of the kingdom.
The carriage came to a slow stop on a hill overlooking a village below. Alaric climbed down from the carriage, his confusion giving way to anger. "What the hell did you do, Cedric?" he demanded.
Cedric greeted him with a calm smile. "Welcome to your new home"
Cedric threw a bundle of commoner clothes to Alaric, who caught them with a look of disgust. "Do you really expect me to wear this?" Alaric sneered.
Leander stepped forward, his tone respectful but firm. "Your Highness, you need to wear it. We must blend in with the villagers."
Cedric nodded in agreement. "You have no choice, Alaric."
Alaric still refused, crossing his arms defiantly. Cedric sighed, then removed his own cloak and forcefully draped it over Alaric. "If you won’t wear the commoner outfit, at least wear this," Cedric said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Grabbing Alaric's hand, Cedric led him towards the village, with Leander following closely behind. They walked down the hill towards a small house on the edge of the village that had been prepared for them.
As they made their way through the village, Alaric observed the bustling activity around him. Villagers were going about their daily routines—some cleaning pigs, others mending fences, and children playing in the mud. The sights and sounds of village life were completely foreign to him, and he found it all repulsive.
"How can they live in this dirty place?" Alaric muttered, his face twisted in disgust.
Cedric gave him a pointed look. "You're one of them now, Alaric. You need to witness how these people live their regular lives. And remember, they might be living in even worse conditions if the emperor didn't manage the empire properly. Like a certain someone who probably did that before."
Alaric’s eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and realization flashing across his face. Cedric's words struck a chord, and although he didn't respond, he couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance about the lives of these lowly villagers.
After arriving at the small house, they settled in with some basic everyday items that Leander had brought along, including spare clothes and essentials for cleaning and starting a fire.
Alaric sat down on a wooden bed, wincing at how hard and uncomfortable it felt. "How does anyone sleep on this?" he muttered to himself, clearly displeased.
Cedric and Leander spent the day cleaning and making preparations around the house. They swept the floors, set up the sleeping areas, and arranged their supplies. Alaric, meanwhile, sat and watched them, his expression a mix of boredom and disdain.
As the sun began to set, they started a fire in the small hearth. Cedric prepared some soup for their evening meal, using the small amount of ingredients they had and some bread. He managed to make a simple tomato soup.
Alaric tasted the soup hungrily, his initial enthusiasm quickly fading. He grimaced, thinking to himself that he might act like a spoiled brat, but one thing was certain: Cedric should never be allowed to cook again. Leander seemed to agree, making a face as he took a sip.
Leander gently took over the soup from Cedric, adding a few more spices and adjusting the flavors. Thankfully, with Leander's intervention, they were able to enjoy some edible soup that night.
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Later that night, Alaric lay on the wooden bed, trying to sleep. The bed was cold and hard, nothing like the comfortable, plush bed in his room back at the palace. He missed the warmth and luxury of his former life.
As he stared at the ceiling, Alaric's thoughts drifted to his death. He tried to remember the faces of those who had killed him, but their features remained blurry and indistinct. Not that they were worth anything compared to him anyway, he thought bitterly. His mind kept replaying the moments leading up to his demise, the chaos, the betrayal, the searing pain of the blade.
He kept rolling around on the wooden bed, the creaking noise it made adding to his discomfort. He shivered in the cold, pulling the thin blanket tighter around himself. Every part of this experience felt like an insult to his former status. The small fire's warmth eventually lulled him into a restless sleep, but his dreams were plagued by shadows and indistinct faces.
Outside, Leander stood leaning against the house, deep in thought. His face was etched with sadness, like he was thinking about someone dear to him, memories and emotions stirring within him. The cool night air did little to ease the heaviness in his heart. He sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts evident in the lines on his face.
Cedric came around the corner, breaking Leander's reverie. He tossed a wooden sword on the ground in front of Leander and raised another, pointing it at him.
"Let's have a rematch," Cedric said calmly. His tone wasn't provocative or vengeful; it was filled with respect for another skilled swordsman.
Leander looked down at the wooden sword, then back at Cedric. He picked it up, a small smile forming on his lips. He understood Cedric's intent—this wasn't about settling scores, but about mutual respect and the shared bond of their craft. The memory of their last encounter still fresh, Leander welcomed the challenge.