With the seed of doubt lingering in his mind, Nathan came out of the building with a heavy heart. The sounds of his relentless punches still echoed within him, and his emotions were in turmoil.
As he stepped out, he spotted his father, Rodrick, approaching, concern etched on his face.
"Hey, Nathan, are you alright? We heard the sounds of punches from inside, and your expression seems troubled. What happened?" Rodrick inquired, his voice filled with fatherly worry.
Not wanting to burden his father with his inner turmoil, Nathan made a forced smile and replied in a somewhat flustered manner, "No, no, I'm fine. I was just furious about the destruction they caused and wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine, that's all."
Hearing this, Rodrick placed a comforting hand on Nathan's shoulder, his eyes still searching for answers. He sensed that something was amiss in his son's demeanor but didn't want to push him.
"Well," Rodrick said softly, "I know you'll make the right decisions, but remember, I'm here to help. If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm always here to listen."
Nathan maintained his facade of a fake smile and nodded. "Thank you, Father. I'll keep that in mind," he replied, though his thoughts were far from the words he spoke.
Inside his mind, he grappled with uncertainty, thinking, "Father still believes in me, but I don't know if my decisions are right or not."
Then Rodrick said to Nathan, "Let's get back to the castle, we have to discuss the future plans to rebuild the city square and other stuff."
Turning to Liam, Rodrick issued clear instructions, emphasizing the importance of their tasks. "Liam, you will stay here and coordinate the efforts to clear the rubble, assist the wounded with the healers, and if any issue arises, contact me at the castle. Make sure to handle the deceased promptly and bury them to prevent the spread of disease."
Liam, a trusted and loyal companion, acknowledged his orders with a respectful bow. "Yes, King," he affirmed.
With a shared nod, father and son mounted their horse, leaving behind the scene of their confrontation with the captured mages. Liam, their loyal companion, stood watch, ready to take charge of the recovery efforts in the city.
As they rode back towards the castle, the path ahead seemed uncertain, and Nathan's thoughts continued to swirl with doubt.
In the days that followed, King Rodrick wasted no time in mobilizing the city's recovery efforts. He hired skilled builders and craftsmen, and with the assistance of dwarf technicians sent as part of the trade agreements with the Ulaborg kingdom, they embarked on the monumental task of rebuilding the devastated city square.
Nathan, initially enthusiastic about helping with the reconstruction, found himself increasingly consumed by the words of the captured mages. The cryptic accusations and doubts planted in his mind continued to torment him.
As he worked alongside the builders and technicians, his thoughts often drifted, and he couldn't escape the gnawing feeling of uncertainty that ate away at his resolve.
The weight of guilt and self-doubt bore down on Nathan, infiltrating his dreams like a relentless storm. Night after night, he was haunted by the specters of those who had perished in the attacks, their accusing voices echoing in his nightmares.
"We died because of you," they lamented, their words like a dagger to his heart. "Why didn't you agree? Why didn't you save us? You are our prince."
The anguish in their voices was unbearable, and Nathan's soul was torn apart by their accusations. His sleep, once a respite from the world's troubles, had become a battleground for his deepest fears and regrets.
But it wasn't just the victims of the attacks that tormented him. The nightmares reached even further into his psyche, dredging up memories from his past life on Earth.
In these dreams, he saw his mother, her loving gesture of offering him a popsicle hauntingly intertwined with a tragic accident.
In the vivid scenes, the truck struck her, but instead of succumbing to the accident, she turned to him with accusing eyes. "It is because of you," she whispered, her words a painful reminder.
"I died because of you. If you hadn't made a scene, I would still be alive. You made me die."
Each night, Nathan was jolted awake, his heart racing and his body drenched in sweat. The weight of the nightmares and the relentless accusations left him in a state of mental and emotional turmoil, with no respite from the darkness that had engulfed him.
As the days went by, Nathan's nightmares kept affecting his well-being, making his daily life difficult. His father, King Rodrick, noticed his troubled state and felt concerned for his son's welfare. He knew he had to help Nathan with his growing distress.
One night, with the moon high and the castle quiet, Rodrick went to Nathan's room. Rodrick made his way to Nathan's room. He was worried about his son and wanted to offer support and understanding.
Gently, Rodrick knocked on Nathan's door and waited for a response. His voice carried a soft yet determined tone as he said, "Nathan, it's your father. May I come in? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
At that moment, Rodrick's only concern was the well-being of his son, and he hoped that their conversation would help ease the burden of Nathan's troubled nights.
Nathan, consumed by his inner turmoil, heard his father's footsteps approaching his room. In an attempt to hide his distress, as Rodrick entered, Nathan feigned a false smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Nathan's room was dimly lit, and as Rodrick entered, he found his son sitting by the window, gazing out at the moonlit kingdom below. Shadows danced across Nathan's face, mirroring the inner turmoil that had consumed him.
"Father," Nathan greeted, his voice carrying a forced cheerfulness. "What brings you here?"
Rodrick studied his son's face, seeing through the façade of the smile. He sighed inwardly, knowing that Nathan was putting on a brave front.
"Nathan," he said gently, his voice filled with fatherly concern, "we need to talk. These past few days, I've noticed that something has been troubling you. The look in your eyes—it's as if something gnawing at you within your soul."
Nathan remained silent, his gaze fixed on the moon as if searching for answers in its silvery glow.
Rodrick's patience waned, and he reached a breaking point. In an unexpected move, he slapped Nathan across the face, the sound echoing through the room like a thunderclap. The shock of the slap reverberated through Nathan's being, snapping him out of his reverie.
Their eyes met, and Nathan's expression mirrored the shock that coursed through his being.
"Nathan," Rodrick's voice, though stern, was now infused with a depth of emotion that demanded attention, "you cannot continue to bear these burdens in silence. They are tearing you apart, and I refuse to stand by and witness my son suffer in himself."