"Ding."
"Oh, hello, Aiden. How are you?" the shopkeeper asked when she saw me enter. Her voice trembled slightly, as if every word cost her effort.
The old woman seemed more tired than ever. Her features were marked with exhaustion, and her eyes, once bright, now held a permanent shadow. Her hands, gnarled and worn from work, shook slightly as she leaned against the counter. Behind her, the shop was nearly empty, shelves half-bare, like a silent reflection of the kingdom's decline.
"I'm well, grandmother. I came to pick up the usual groceries, as always."
"Groceries for the princess, huh?" She attempted a smile, but it looked strained, forced.
She turned slowly to prepare my purchases. I could hear her short breaths and the slowness of her movements. It wasn't just physical fatigue but the weight of a life darkened by sorrow and resignation.
"Here you go. That'll be five coins."
I took out my purse and paid, but just as I was heading toward the door, she called out, her eyes suddenly sharper, lit by a glimmer of contained anger.
"Tell me... this war, it really can't be avoided?"
I froze, my purse clenched in my hand. My thoughts clashed, searching for words to express a truth I never wanted to admit.
"Yes, unfortunately," I murmured.
She shook her head, a tremor running through her hunched shoulders. "Then why is Her Majesty sending children? She's sending them to their deaths... has she lost her mind?!"
Hearing her words, a distant, painful memory resurfaced: my own separation from my mother, back when illness kept me in the hospital, and the cold walls deprived me of her warmth. At that time, I was too young to understand. Too young to defend myself, or even to tell her I was scared. Just like that boy, over there, being pulled from his mother's arms.
I forced myself to shake off the memory and return to the present, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. To mask my distress, I tried to imagine that these cold walls weren't those of a hospital or a desolate city, but of a united, protective kingdom.
"Grandmother," I said, my voice almost breaking, "please try to understand Her Majesty. I'm sure it was her last resort. She never imagined it would come to this."
She looked at me, the sadness in her eyes hardening into something sharper, keener.
"Maybe... but now, she'll have the blood of children on her hands."
My throat tight, I left the shop and headed toward the castle. The streets around me were unrecognizable. Where, during the Harvest Festival, everything had been vibrant colors, laughter, and sweet scents, the city was now a shadow of itself. Doors and shutters were closed, as if every household had barricaded itself against the world's suffering. Sad whispers rose here and there, murmurs about loved ones sent to the front lines and the famine that grew worse with each passing day.
An image of Ciri, laughing as she ran between the stalls during the festival, came to mind. It was so recent, yet it felt like it belonged to another life, like an almost unreal dream, something fragile that we could never grasp again. Today, those smiles had vanished, replaced by closed faces and muffled sobs.
As I walked, I heard a woman weeping, desperately trying to stop the soldiers from taking her son. Her voice trembled with terror.
"Please, he's only fourteen!" she pleaded, clutching her son's arm.
"Mom... I'm scared," the boy whispered, clinging to his mother, just like I had once done, unable to imagine a separation.
"We're sorry, ma'am, but we have orders," one of the soldiers replied, averting his gaze, ashamed, helpless. The soldiers attempted to separate them, the mother screaming, her nails clawing at her son's arms, holding on with all her strength.
"No! Give me back my son!" Her voice broke into a heart-wrenching cry, filled with a pain so intense it seemed to resonate through my entire body.
I couldn't look away. Silently, I clenched my fists until I felt my nails digging into my palms, a reminder of my own helplessness, of my past, confined within the walls of a hospital, far from my mother. Finally, I turned away, continuing on, but with another weight pressing down on my shoulders.
At the castle, I climbed up to the princess's chamber. Voices rose behind the door, a muffled argument filled with anger and sorrow.
"YOU SEND CHILDREN TO BATTLE, AND NOW YOU WANT THE ONE I'M CLOSEST TO TO GO AS WELL?" Ciri cried, her tone desperate, almost pleading.
The queen's response was calm, icy, almost mechanical.
"It's his duty, Ciri, and he's of age. He has no choice."
"I don't care! I HATE YOU! GET OUT!"
A heavy silence settled, and the door opened. The queen stepped out and saw me in the hallway. She stood still for a moment, her emotions masked, but I thought I glimpsed something else beneath that mask: a pain hidden behind her distant gaze, and a regret she couldn't let show.
A silence stretched between us until she finally spoke, her voice low, almost resigned.
"Do you hate me too?"
I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "No, Your Majesty. You gave me a new life, a chance to dedicate everything I am to protect the one I must protect. So no, I don't hate you."
She seemed to relax, if only slightly. Her shoulders, usually straight and sure, sagged a little, and her face, so hard, betrayed her age for just a moment, the years of sacrifice and impossible decisions.
"Aiden... this request isn't from a queen but from a grandmother."
"Yes?"
"If disaster strikes... protect Ciri. Take her far from Cintra."
I was taken aback by her request, feeling the gravity of her words weighing on me. She approached, placing a hand on my shoulder, a gesture that, for the first time, wasn't that of a queen but of a desperate grandmother.
"I beg you... promise me," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, almost like a prayer.
I nodded, feeling the weight of her request and her trust. "Yes, I swear it."
She nodded, her eyes shining with restrained sadness. "Thank you, Aiden. Now, I can worry a little less."
She stepped back, giving me one last look, then walked down the hall, her footsteps echoing faintly in the oppressive silence. I watched her until she disappeared, then took a deep breath and opened the door to Ciri's room.
(Just one more chapter until the war. This moment will be essential for Aiden's development and the revelation of his powers. I hope some of you will guess what this upcoming chapter holds. Thank you for reading!)