Page 63: The Insufficient Hero

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"Do you have a speech prepared?" Leonard asked, following after Alexander as he paced through a hallway. "Anything to say to him right off the bat?"

"No, Leonard." That was all Alexander told him. "I don't care enough," he said, speaking through his grit teeth and clenched jaw. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his fists were clenched as he took step after step, treading forward to Archibald's office.

Lumiel sped ahead of Alexander, just to turn around and face him, walking backward. "I don't know," she spat out, her face wrinkling with confusion. "It seems like you do care. A lot."

"Give him some space, Lumiel," Liam said aloud, until Lumiel finally let out a grumble and let Alexander pass.

It was only two days after Alexander was freed. He had cut his hair, shortened it to an unnecessary extent. After his transformation, his hair seemed longer, lighter, softer. That strange condition was solved by a simple cut, which Alexander deemed necessary anyway.

He had cleaned, ridding himself of every single stench he found in the Second Circle. He had burned the garments they had given him, with the help of Leonard, of course. And now...

All the Virtues gathered with Alexander as he went to meet his father, even despite his wishes. It was right in the middle of the day, a school day at that. But for nearly an hour, right in the middle of the day, students at the Magecraft Academy went to lunch.

That was the assignment, anyway. And with no regulations on who went where...

Alexander decided this would be the best time to meet his father. Even after telling his mom that such a meeting should only occur with her involvement. Even after trying to rid himself of his friends. He had made his decision, and he continued.

With each step they took, Alexander seemed to grow weary and strained. They had left school, they had transported themselves to Pendragon, and they had found Archibald's office. And with each passing second, with the slow burning of silence in the elevator, he found it more and more difficult to push down the stress in his stomach, the unease in his soul.

Adam Lane was always a mystery to Alexander. In all of Alexander's life, he had only seen three photos of him. Two of those pictures had his face scratched out, torn out, removed as a whole, leaving his existence behind.

He only had a single photo of his father's face was all he had ever known of him. According to his mom, Adam had remained by his side until he was two years old. But that wasn't enough for a single memory.

And now, with his father just a handful of meters away, Alexander didn't know what to feel. His stomach churned with a whirl of emotions, a confused blend of anger and worry.

Even so, he kept stepping forward. It wasn't long before Alexander's quickness led him to Archibald's grand office, the spacious room of bookshelves and couches and coffee tables, all extending backward into a single desk ahead of a single imposing window.

The same oak door that he had seen countless times finally stood before him. And as simple as it always was to swing that door open, Alexander paused, he hesitated to grab the doorknob.

They were all behind that door. Just that door. Just an inch of wood away from the man who was his father. A man who he had no memory of, no thought towards.

He couldn't deny the feeling that poked at his gut and urged him to run, purely so he wouldn't have to see that man's face. But at the same time, he couldn't begin to run away now.

Once again, he clenched his fist. He took in a sharp inhale and spoke. "Okay..." He wrapped his fingers around the bronze doorknob. "Let's go."

With a twist and a push, the door swung open. And the Virtues crowded the door to get a single glimpse of Alexander's father.

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