Still looking at the picture, Will could point out at least three identifiable features from the man in the picture. He had the same brown hair, his facial structure matched the reflection of his face he saw off the glass of the frame, and although the kings eyes were blue, Will had the same shape. Looking at the resemblance, any fight Will had was fading. If it were true and he was the son of the man in the picture, he was a prince. His mother had taken him from the life he was supposed to have when he was just a child. Even though she did it to protect him, it still hurt.
Michael stood there for a time, watching Will take in all of the change. He said nothing, knowing Will would need much time to accept the truth. Looking at the young man, Michael couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was just taken out of his life and dropped in a world he didn't think he belonged in, that would be easy to shift blame, but what if he was just brought home? It would make someone feel others were to blame. Michael understood if Will didn't want to talk to him for a while. It was quite a change to know that he wasn't the son of a traveling author, but instead a prince of a kingdom.
Michael went to make a quick meal, leaving Will standing at the picture. He knew the boy would need all the time he could get to think. Michael couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Finding out the one who raised you wasn't your father was one thing, but finding out that you are royalty? That was an entirely different set of problems. Michael didn't envy Will for what must have been going through his mind.
'Was there ever a time where I wasn't lied to?' he thought to himself. 'Was I ever happy?' the thoughts just kept looting in as he looked at his father and mother. He couldn't help but wonder what his life was truly like while he was living in Ebonhart. Was is father a good man? He looked at the picture of his father once more. He could see laughing lines within his eyes, he knew he spent a great deal either joking or laughing at other peoples expense. Will looked deep into those eyes and realized that he couldn't have been too bad of a person. He was able to smile and enjoy the company of his family. Will wondered if the Crimson King lived up to the responsibility he had been given back in the day. He wondered what would change if his father actually met him. Would he come out of his depression or would he just be at peace with himself? The last thing Will wanted was to be thrust into a world in which he was a royal and have his father step down so he could be king. Will could just imagine it, his father passing the crown with a 'good luck' wave and leave him. The most Will could think of was to keep his distance for now. When the time was right, he would find himself back in Ebonhart.
None of it was easy for Will to accept. If Jonathan wasn't his father, who exactly was he to him? There was absolutely no relation to his family whatsoever. Will sighed, even though he wasn't exactly related by blood, Jonathan still did everything he could to raise him. Will could only imagine how easy it was for him to do that. All of the history lessons, or war tactics that Jonathan had crammed into Wills skull. He tried to get him into politics, but Will couldn't get a grasp on it.
All of the cardio, upper and middle body exercise, the pull ups when entering the house, having pasta before run days, it felt as if he was being conditioned for everything he had gone through at this point. Without the training he had endured with Jonathan, Will doubted he could have survived a day in the desert. Regardless of blood, Will would always think of Jonathan as his father. Without Jonathan, he would have been dead since day one.
What Will studied during his home school period was mostly old and new war tactics. Of course he had to do math, science and language arts just like anyone else, but Jonathan always had him do triple the work on anything war related. He must have felt that someday in his life, he would need at least the basic war knowledge if he was going to lead an army. Will sighed, he was actually grateful for all the knowledge Jonathan had pushed on him. Without it, he would just be a burden.
At times Jonathan would have 'camping trips' leaving Will out in the middle of no where, making him fend for himself. Will remembered the times he would have to go fishing with no pole. He had to make a spear or find something to make a net out of. He only had the clothes on his back and the knowledge Jonathan had given him in order to survive. The sleeping bag he had in his bag and the canteens were more of a gift than anything, as Will had never expected Jonathan to sway from the training he had given Will. The more he looked back on his time with Jonathan, the more Will realized that his dad had been preparing him for this exact moment.
Will didn't know whether to be happy, confused or angry. Was his life never his? the preparations he went through as a kid were anything but normal. If you dropped a regular person in the position Will had his whole life, they would just try to find civilization and ask for help. Will had a fighting chance no matter where he would go because he didn't think like a normal teenager. He kept trying to think of what his life could have been like had he never went to live with Jonathan. There was so much that he didn't know about this world, so much he didn't understand. He may have gone through all that training with Jonathan, but none of it had to do with magic or defense of this world he now lived in. He couldn't even protect anyone from the wraiths. Will thought of Maya, of her last screams before she went silent. 'I swear Maya, you will be the last friend I see fall by the hands of those monsters,' he thought as he played the battle over in his head. 'I need to get stronger,' He clenched his fist as he remembered the final moments when his flame went out. It couldn't happen again.
Standing there, staring at the baby version of himself, Will couldn't help but wonder how strong he could have been if he grew up in this world. As the baby version of Will stared back at him from the picture, he clenched his fist with a determined expression in his eyes. 'I'm not going to get any stronger just standing around,' he thought as he turned away heading to the door.
Michael watched his nephew leave the cottage. Will wasn't in a talking mood and Michael could sense it. Before he left the cottage, Michael saw the look on Will's face. It was a look of determination, of resolve. It was the look the older man had been waiting for. Soon he would be able to start his nephew's training. Soon he would be able to make a prince out of someone who had just gotten to the realm. Soon he would have someone available to slap some sense into the king, to take the advisors out of office. Michael was beyond tired of the state Crystallia was in. He was tired of seeing the good people of Ebonhart fearing for their lives. Soon he would be able to shape a weapon to thrust into the heart of the capital, to finally have a way to strike back. Will had no idea the amount of responsibility that was about to be placed on his shoulders, even though Michael was happy, he also did not envy what Will would have to be put through to save the kingdom.
Smiling to himself while adding strips of meat to the stew he was making, Michael turned to the picture of himself, his sister and her son. He said nothing aloud, yet his thoughts turned to Isabelle. 'I may see you sooner than I thought my sister,' he thought while stirring the pot. At the thought, his smile vanished and a vacant state settled on his face. 'Soon'.
With Michael in the cottage, Will had enough space to clear his head. He picked a tree on the side of the small home and sat down. With everything that had happened that day, Will didn't have enough time to train his flame. Having done the same thing every day for months, he felt his daily routine hadn't been accomplished yet, besides with everything that had happened, he felt that training was all that he could do now.
Sitting down at the base of the tree, Will crossed his legs and opened both hands palm up on either side of him. Will felt for his aura as he had done Every day since getting to Mama's small cottage. Sensing the second skin around his body, Will felt a difference.
Usually his aura felt like himself, an aura of his identity. One in which had his sorrow, happiness and anger, this one however had a sense of purpose, of duty. Conflicted with the change, Will channeled the aura to his hands. What greeted him was exactly that, yet different. Will examined the summoned flames, while they were still a red shade, there was gold mixed within.
It was as if the flame noticed the changes within him. As if they knew he had accepted his old identity within himself. As he stared into the flames, Will realized that the gold could represent the royal blood within him. All the trials he had already been put through flashed through his mind. He thought of all the friends he had made in his life, all the happy memories he had as William Carter. He thought of Jonathan and all the lessons that were taught to him. Lastly he thought of his mother and father in the picture, he knew what was the truth now. Even though he knew, he still could choose to live the way he wished. After all, it was his life.
"Whoever I was before my life with Jonathan, it doesn't change who I am now." Will told himself as he looked into the flames. "I am William Ragnos II and William Carter, though I have blood of a king in my veins, I will always be the soldier I was trained to be." he said, thinking only of Jonathan and his mother and the years in which he spent with them. He wouldn't trade his idea of family he had for anything in the world. He understood that his father had been looking for him, and that his mother had run away for his protection, but Jonathan had always stayed exactly where Will needed him.
Now filled with new found resolve, Will emptied his mind while looking into the gold center of his red flame. He allowed his mind to become one with his power, and lost himself in his trance.
Standing at the entrance to the cottage, Michael watched Will in his meditation. The flames in his nephew's hands grew in size as he watched, until they reached the first branch of the tall tree. With a smile on his face he went back inside to dish out good for himself. He know Will might take a while before he was ready to eat, let alone talk. So he left the young man to his training, knowing he would need all the strength he could get for what was to come.