Our Demonic Spawn

28

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the clearing as Yunael stood alone, a sword gripped tightly in his hand. He moved with fluid grace, his movements a testament to the hours of practice he had dedicated to mastering the art of sword fighting.

But despite his skill with the blade, Yunael couldn't shake the feeling of doubt that gnawed at the edges of his mind. Ever since they told their parents the truth, he had been plagued by self-doubt, wondering if he was truly worthy of the title of prince, if he was capable of leading his kingdom into a future filled with hope and prosperity. It was his fault for getting his cousin into this mess and couldn't provide a solution. How could he be a ruler if he couldn't find answers to complex questions and scenarios?

Lost in thought, Yunael didn't notice the approach of Ajax. Ajax watched his nephew with a mixture of satisfaction and concern, his heart heavy with the weight of the burden that Yunael carried upon his young shoulders.

"Yunael," Ajax called out, his voice cutting through the stillness of the woods. "May I join you?"

Yunael turned to face his uncle, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course, uncle," he replied, his voice tinged with warmth. "I could use the practice."

Ajax nodded, a solemn expression on his face as he drew his own sword and took up a defensive stance. "Very well, then," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let's see what you're made of, young prince."

Yunael grinned at the challenge, his doubts momentarily forgotten as he lunged forward, his sword flashing in the sunlight. Ajax met his attack head-on, their blades clashing together with a resounding clang that echoed through the training grounds.

For hours they sparred, the rhythm of their movements a dance of steel and skill as they circled each other, each striving to outmaneuver the other. But despite Yunael's best efforts, Ajax was a seasoned warrior, his experience evident in every strike and parry.

As they fought, Yunael couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration welling up inside him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to land a single blow against his uncle, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated compared to Ajax's effortless grace.

"Damn it!" Yunael exclaimed, his frustration boiling over as he swung his sword in a wild arc. "I'm useless at this!"

Ajax stepped back, his expression filled with concern as he watched his nephew's outburst. "Yunael, calm down," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not useless. You're just still learning. It takes time to master the art of sword fighting."

Yunael shook his head, his frustration bubbling over into anger. "But what if I'm never good enough, uncle?" he demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. "What if I'm not cut out to be a prince, to lead my kingdom into battle? What then?"

Ajax reached out to lay a comforting hand on Yunael's shoulder, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Yunael, listen to me," he said, his voice grave. "Being a prince isn't just about being skilled with a sword. It's about courage, and honor, and compassion. It's about being willing to put the needs of your people above your own, to fight for what you believe in no matter the cost."

Yunael's anger melted away at Ajax's words, replaced by a sense of awe and reverence. He had always admired his uncle, had looked up to him as a role model and a mentor. And now, as Ajax spoke with such conviction about what it truly meant to be a prince, Yunael couldn't help but feel a surge of determination welling up inside him.

"But what if I'm not capable of protecting my kingdom, uncle?" Yunael asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I fail, and my people suffer because of it?"