*10 years later*

the deafening sound of the clashing of steel against steel was all you could hear in the dojo of the royal palace in the kingdom of aes. well, the grunts of two men could also be heard among the clashes, but their intensity was so low compared to the loud clangs made by the swords hitting each other.

"chin up." one of them ordered between heavy breaths, immediately causing the other to readjust his posture and lift his head.

the fight continued, their hits becoming more and more powerful with each second going, both of the men skilfully blocking the deathly hits thrown by their opponent.

and it's only after long minutes of a very intense fight that the sound of metal clashing against metal stopped, being replaced by metal clashing against the lacquered parquet and then by a silence, disturbed by the pants of two strong men.

"i didn't know it was still possible, but you improved a lot, your highness." the older man said, slightly bowing his head in front of the royal.

"it seems so." the royal replied, removing his sword from under the other man's chin and placing it back in its cover that was hanging by his waist.

at the age of nineteen, mark was perhaps one of the best swordsmen the world had ever known. him and his sword truly made one, moving together as if the blade was nothing but a prolongation of mark's body. he handled it like a master.

a few days after his father's death, mark had decided that he would honour his father's words, and actually become one of the greatest swordsmen of the silver age. but for that, he needed an instructor, and now that his father had left this world, he wouldn't be able to teach mark everything he knew about sword-fighting.

so, as the new king of aes – despite the fact that he hadn't been officially crowned and that his mother, the queen, was taking regency until it happened – mark requested for the best sword- fighting teachers to come to aes and teach him.

he improved very fast and changed instructors a few times, making sure he knew different styles and that he aced all of them. and now, after ten long years of relentless training, mark had reached a level of skill he never imagined he would be able to reach one day. but he was very happy of himself, this way, he had kept his father's words. oh, he knew that the king would have been so proud of him if he was still alive...

"let's stop the training here, your highness." the instructor spoke, bending to grab his sword that mark had knocked off his hand. "we already exceeded the time we had set."

"alright." mark nodded, wiping the sweat off his forehead with one of his sleeves. "are you available for another training tomorrow?"

"i'm afraid not, your highness." the instructor bowed all the way down. "i need to go back to the northern kingdom urgently."

"oh... how long will you be gone?" the future king questioned, slightly disappointed.

"for a few months only, your highness." the instructor assured. "the journey is around three weeks long by horse, and i'll be staying a month there."

"mmh." mark hummed, calculating in his head how long he will need to spend without an instructor.

"but if his highness wants me to find a replacement in the meantime from one of the nearby kingdoms, i'd gladly do it." the sword-fighting teacher was quick to add, not wanting to disappoint the future king.

it may be the silver age, what people called the best of all ages because of how much better the people were treated, but it was still monarchy, and being condemned to death by the monarch was still very possible.

plus, the fact people were treated better than during the previous royal ages didn't necessarily mean that they were treated well. it was just better, but it still wasn't the best.

"it's okay." the uncrowned king assured. "i'll take advantage of these few months to train on my own and improve my gestures."

"i will do my best to come back quickly, your highness." the instructor bowed again in front of the future king of aes.

"have a safe journey back and forth." mark bowed his head slightly. "i will be expecting your return."

that being said, the royal walked out of the dojo, heading directly to his bedroom where he would be able to take a long and warm bath and to change into clean clothes.

he took a while to enjoy his alone time, lying in the giant bathtub of his bathroom while reviewing the remarks his sword-fighting instructor had done while they were training together.

"your highness?" the voice of a servant was faintly heard from the entrance of the bedroom.

"in the bathroom!" mark yelled, making sure his voice could be heard through the doors that separated them.

"your highness, her majesty the queen wanted to see you in her office." the servant spoke again, not moving from behind the bedroom door.

mark sighed at her words, leaning his head back against the tub as he closed his eyes.

his mother always requested to see him at the wrong time.

"your highness?"

"in an hour!" mark yelled as he sat up in the bathtub and pushed himself up with the help of his arms. "i have something important to do before!" he continued, pulling one of the giant drapes he used to dry his body.

"thank you, your highness. i will let her majesty the queen know." the servant finally stated before getting away and giving mark back the calm and loneliness he had grown accustomed to.

the uncrowned king headed to his dressing in his bedroom, pulling out a fresh set of clothes.

he wore them quickly, and soon got out of his bedroom, finding himself in a giant and familiar corridor.

mark didn't waste a second to start walking across the gold and silver-plated corridor in which painted portraits and landscapes had been hung on the walls and up the ceiling. he barely paid attention to them, despite knowing that each of them represented things that his dynasty had lived in the past, and that in a few decades, his figure will be painted among the existing ones, venting his exploits as a king. actually, there were already a few paintings of him across the palace. the king and the queen had made a few painters come to the royal palace to make portraits of mark at different ages.

"guard." mark called, his eyes catching a figure in a silver gear – almost like an armour – standing a few metres away from him, next to a small and private interior courtyard leading to a private place.

"your highness." the young royal guard approached mark, bowing all the way down when he stood in front of him.

"make sure nobody disturbs me." mark ordered. "under any circumstance."

"of course, your highness." the guard bowed again.

"thank you." mark muttered before walking past him, right inside of the courtyard and towards the small chapel that was on the other side of it.

he reached the small chapel in which were buried the bodies of the past aes rulers in a few steps, taking in a deep breath before walking inside and bowing as low as he could to show respect to his ancestors.

after muttering a small prayer, mark headed directly to the tomb that had been the most recently filled, the one where he had watched his father be buried in ten years before.

"father..." mark spoke, head hanging low as he stood in front of the sacred box.

of course, no one answered him – the chapel was dead silent – but it's not like anyone had answered even once during his countless visits.

they used to be very frequent. right after his father's death, mark visited the tomb daily, twice a day even, right after waking up, and before going to bed. he wouldn't necessarily talk, just sit down in front of it and silently hope that it wasn't real. but nothing ever changed; the tomb remained the same, and his countless questions unanswered, leaving him with nothing but pure sadness and desperation.

time didn't heal him, but it allowed him to get used to it. after three years of daily visits, mark stopped visiting his father's tomb. perhaps was it the beginning of his teenage years, this period in which children try to get their independence, and rebel against their parents' orders. mark didn't visit his father's tomb from then, deciding that he didn't need his father anymore. he was a teenager now, he was slowly turning into an adult, and he couldn't become a powerful king if he kept moping over the death of his father – which would have occurred someday anyway.

mark's rebellious period lasted around five years. for all this time, mark barely visited the tomb, doing so only during official ceremonies, and in presence of his mother, when she requested it. but that was all.

the uncrowned king realised how childish this very comportment was after he turned seventeen years old. growing mature, he understood that grieving for a lost one – mostly if that person was someone you admired deeply – definitely wasn't something bad. quite the contrary actually. and so, ever since then, mark visited his father's tomb every once in a while, whenever he felt like he needed it. he stopped fighting the urges he had to cry over someone who wouldn't come back; those urges he had as a somehow rebellious teenager who pretended like he didn't need a father. instead, he embraced those moments fully, and allowed himself to cry in company of his father, showing him and his ancestors how important his father was to him.

and now, at the age of nineteen, mark was still visiting the chapel occasionally, spending moments in company of his father, speaking to him, telling him about his worries, and simply allowing himself to appear vulnerable when he couldn't show anyone else this side of him. but at the same time, it had always been like that with his father. even when he was still alive, him and mark had that relationship that mark wouldn't have been able to have with anyone else. they were so close, and mark truly admired his father, wishing nothing more than to become like him in the future.

"i don't know if you're watching me from above... but i'm training a lot these days." mark spoke solemnly. "i improved a lot a swords-fighting again. my instructor says he's impressed by how fast i learn. i know that you'd be too if you were here."

mark gulped the lump that was forming in his throat, something that often occurred when he was there, pouring his heart out in front of his dead father.

"you were so impressed by me when i was nine... but i'm much better now, so you'd be much more impressed." the royal added with a small smile, remembering that day he had managed to disarm his father a few times so skilfully. "i don't think i'm the greatest swordsman of the silver age for the moment, so i'll keep training hard to become it, but i need the best teacher for that... and... and you're not here to teach me..." the future king sighed, his heart suddenly feeling so heavy. "...how can i become the greatest swordsman if the best teacher isn't there to teach me...?"

there was a long silence that was almost too long to bear. but mark was able to speak out before the silence became fully unbearable.

"i-i miss you..." he stuttered; the words never easy to mutter despite the fact ten years that had passed since he had to mutter similar words for the 1st time. it was always hard, because voicing this out reminded him that he had really left and that he wouldn't come back ever again.

"i-i wish you were here... with me... with mother..." mark sighed again.

his father had always been his idol. from his birth, he had never wanted nothing more than to be like him. but fate had decided to take one of mark's pillars away from his life, and to make the young boy's hopes crumble.

to that day, mark had managed to fix his life, to reconstruct some pillars and make sure he was still sane, but deep inside his heart, he knew that the wound of his father's death would forever haunt him. and the worst part of it was that there was nothing he could do to avenge his father, because it had just been an unfortunate accident.

mark always wondered how it was possible. how the king of aes – highly respected and adored – how such a grand and amazing man could face a death so ordinary and boring. an amazing king like mark's father deserved a heroic death, the slice of a sword on his throat in a battle, a sacrifice made to save his people... everything but a vulgar food poisoning caused because a salmon wasn't delivered from the northern kingdom in proper conditions.

but no matter how hard he believed that this uninteresting death was nothing his fathered deserved, it had occurred, and so, mark had to bear with it and learn to accept it. his way of showing his respect to the deceased king would be to become himself one of the most respected kings, in honour of his father and everything he did for the kingdom of aes.

and this was exactly was he was planning to do. from the day of his coronation a few months from then, when he would turn twenty years old and when his mother would stop her regency, he would make sure he'll become the most respected monarch of the silver age.

all in honour of his father, mark's role model.

♕

far away in the lands, in the middle of the kingdom of aes, a eighteen-year-old tanned male was in a similar environment – to a few details. there was nothing like a chapel where expensive tombs were carefully ordered, and no royal guard keeping an eye on the sacred land. this place was just a vast uncovered land on which the few small splotches of grass left had turned yellow. and the tanned male was sat crossed-legs on the ground, facing a familiar pile of earth that was slowly drying under the scorching sun.

"i still have your bracelet with me, mom." the tanned male spoke, a smile decorating his face. "i almost lost it again, but i still have it, so don't worry." he assured.

he was talking about the golden piece of jewellery, that same bracelet he had taken from his mother's tomb ten years prior, after realising too late that he had lost his own bracelet somewhere in the wild.

donghyuck had grown considerably since then, but the bracelet was still too loose on his thin wrist. the bracelet would be way too lose for most people, but it didn't use to be for donghyuck's mother. her liver disease caused her body to gain a lot of weight, and she was forced a few times to ask for a precious metal merchant to lengthen her bracelets with new gold links.

but ever since her death, donghyuck had categorically refused to remove some of the links from the bracelet to make it fit his wrist again. he wanted his mother's jewel in its full version, without anything removed, just the same way he loved all of his mother unconditionally, no matter how her liver disease had made her.

"i know you don't like it, but i stole some money from the restaurant again..." the tanned male admitted, lowering his head in shame. "i'm sorry, mom... i know you hate it but... we don't have any other way..." he sighed, his hand tracing random patterns on the dried ground in from of him. "you know how hard it has been for dad... he is still so affected by your death... i need to help him find his way to happiness again. and i know his games and going out with his friends make him happy. but he needs money for that, and we don't have enough... i'm doing this for his good, and he always looks so happy when i manage to bring him back a few coins... i know how you loved him as well, you would have done the same thing for him..."

there was a small silence, the sound of the wind going through the leaves in the nearby trees somehow creating a comfortable atmosphere around him despite the face he was in a cemetery.

"and don't even think about telling me to sell your bracelet." donghyuck warned, pointing an accusing finger at the tomb. "you know very well i could never. i wouldn't sell it, even if i was starving to death. it's too important to me."

the frown that was on donhyuck's face for a second slowly morphed back into a smile as the tanned male let out a small chuckle.

"sorry for the outburst." he apologised before looking up at the sun. "the sun is about to set, i need to go back to the village. we're going to start cooking for tonight's dinner."

the tanned male patted the ground before pushing himself up, dusting the back of his pants quickly before clearing his throat.

"see you soon, mom." he waved at the lifeless tomb. "i miss you a lot. and i love you even more."

a last wave and a small smile was all it took before the young man turned on his heels, running his way back to the village where the people were waiting for him in the kitchen to help with the cooking.

he arrived there after a few minutes, wiping his hands with a piece of cloth – which wasn't necessarily that clean – before making his presence known in the kitchen.

"donghyuck, we're preparing a fish soup tonight, can you cut the fish?"

"sure, no problem." the tanned male nodded, pulling up the sleeves of his outworn shirt before holding his hands out to grab the bucket of fish that he would need to start preparing.

he worked skilfully and in silence, listening to the conversations of the other ladies around him as they prepared the food together.

donghyuck was the only male in this very feminine kitchen, but he didn't mind. the ladies did at first, when donghyuck grew up and started really understanding their adult conversations, but after a few years, they knew that the tanned male was inoffensive. plus, he was a very good cook now, and forbidding him to cook with them would definitely make the popularity of their restaurant lower drastically.

so, donghyuck did just like he did every day and every night, putting his skills into action as he paid attention to what the ladies were saying without interfering once. it was mostly girl things anyway, some kind of drama that donghyuck couldn't care less about. but he enjoyed being around them, wondering if his mother would have been the same if she was still among the living.

"is it me or did some more money disappear?" one of the women asked, causing donghyuck's body to freeze, and making the head of the fish he was handling fall into the big pot in which he was cooking.

the tanned male's eyes widened as he immediately fished the fish's head again, putting it away as fast as possible while hoping that no one had noticed him.

he was nervous for a very valid reason; money did disappear from the box that was considered as their cash register. and more than simply disappearing, it had landed right in donghyuck's pocket. it wasn't much, sure, just four, perhaps five coins, but apparently, it was noticeable.

"didn't aera say that she had borrowed a bit of money to get us greens?" one woman asked, lifting her head from her pans.

"oh, yes, she went to the village next to the border. i heard they had nice varieties of greens." another piped in.

"that's why then!" the first one hummed, putting the box with the money away as donghyuck let out a long sigh, his eyes closing for a second, relieved that he hadn't been caught.

just like he had told his mother, he didn't like stealing. money, objects, food... he knew how to steal very well, and most of the time, he managed to do it unseen. he had been doing so from a very young age, so of course, eh grew accustomed to it, and learnt how to do it very skilfully. but despite being an ace at it, and despite doing it rather often, donghyuck didn't like stealing stuff.

he wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't for his father. the poor man was still so affected by his wife's death that he forgot about his own happiness. and he was the last parent remaining to donghyuck, so the tanned male was ready for anything to make sure he was happy and loved. and if that meant that he had to steal a few things, he wouldn't hesitate one second.

"donghyuck, you can go. don't forget to grab a bowl for you on the way out." one of the women inside the kitchen declared after a few hours of being in the kitchen and cooking for the customers.

"thank you. see you tomorrow." the tanned male bowed to the lady before taking a bowl of soup for himself and heading inside the restaurant, making his way towards the table his father was seated at with a few other men who seemed to be sitting in silence.

"hey, dad." the tanned male flashed his parent a smile, taking a sit on the wooden bench.

"son." the older man simply said, keeping his eyes on his empty glass.

"so, how was the food tonight?" donghyuck questioned, taking a first sip of the soup he had cooked.

"it was okay."

donghyuck smiled again. "i'm glad you liked it." he said, his heart fluttering at his father's praise – it always had that kind of effect on him. "i poured all of my love in it. just like every night."

"mmh."

the tanned male continued sipping the soup in silence, his father sitting beside him and muttering a few words to the people sitting around the table, but never enough for a full conversation.

"dad?" the boy called as he was close to finishing his soup, looking to the side at his father who was still frozen. "is something wrong?"

the adult blinked, his eyes diverting to the men around the table before locking back into donghyuck's his expression somehow saddening.

"i was just thinking about your mother." sangkyu replied, not looking away from his son.

"oh..." donghyuck hummed. "you know, maybe you could try coming to her tomb with me? i go there often, but i never see you there. you could talk to her; it helps me a lot and- "

"can you grab me another beer?" the adult declared, sliding his empty glass on the table and making it collide with donghyuck's half-empty bowl.

the tanned male looked at the empty glass while blinking before he looked back up at his father.

"h-huh..." he stuttered, his hand grabbing the glass. "they only allow one free beer for workers." he explained, quite confused that his father didn't remember. donghyuck knew beer was his father's favourite, so he always let him have his free beer.

"well, maybe they could allow two for you." sangkyu replied. "you're their best cook."

"i'm... i'm not sure they'll accept that- "

"son." donghyuck's father's tone was ice-cold. "i really need a beer right now." he added, the corners of his mouth slowly dropping in a frown.

this was an expression that donghyuck hated to see on his father's face. he looked so handsome when he was smiling or laughing with his friends, and when he was doing things that he liked. but because of the wounds inside his heart that had been left after his wife's death, his smile turned upside down, and donghyuck couldn't bear it.

his father was such an amazing man, a fearless leader who had convictions and who lived for them. he was perhaps the most important person of the anti-royalist movement that was slowly gaining in importance in the kingdom. he had so many qualities that donghyuck admired, but they seemed to fade away every time he thought about his deceased wife, and donghyuck didn't want that.

he himself wanted to follow his father's steps and become as much of a good leader as he was. but this was only possible if his father was constantly in his best form. and for that, donghyuck had to assure his father was happy.

"don't worry, dad." the tanned male beamed a bright smile, standing up before he could finish his soup and grabbing the empty glass. "i'll find a way." the boy added, leaning forward and pecking his father's cheek lovingly before heading towards the kitchen, leaving at the table his father and the half-empty bowl of fish soup – well, empty bowl considering his father had finished it right after donghyuck had walked away, in a similar way you would down a glass of alcohol.

but it didn't matter, because the same way he would never sell his mother's bracelet, donghyuck wouldn't mind starving himself if it meant that it could make his father happy and proud.