The days continued to bleed into one another, each passing moment a blur of motion and stillness. Leo hardly noticed the change in time, lost in the rhythm of his workouts. His body was slowly transforming—small physical build, strength increase, endurance improving—but his focus remained the same: achieving an natural body, a steadiness of control that could weather any storm. His body was not merely a tool, but an extension of his will, and he could feel it becoming something sharper, his getting better, though it wasn't the muscle itself that mattered.
The weight of his purpose was something far more substantial. It was still his desire to learn the mad dragon body arts.
The sweat glistened on his skin as he finished another set of exercises, his breath steady and controlled, the deep inhalations of air filling his lungs and expanding his chest. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, glancing toward the far end of the castle, where the faintest trace of sunlight filtered through the thick trees.
In the silence, he heard it again: the voice of his mother.
[Let's get everything prepared, they are arriving soon enough.]
["Patriarchs,"] Thalore had said, his words still echoing in Leo's mind. ["One day, you will stand infront of them—your strength and your manner of how you portray yourself will be shown. The balance between what you are now and what you must become lies in the heart of those who came before you."]
Those words had been uttered a month ago when he was found working out at the back of the castle, but their weight had only become clear now. Now, when the time had come to meet both the previous and the current patriarch of the family.
[I don't know how they will be like but I hope that it is good."] As he scratches at the back of his head.
A moment had arrived that Leo knew would define his thoughts for forgiving them.
He took a long breath and let the familiar scent of the sweat fill his senses. It was calming—grounding. But outside, the world was different now after 500yrs and he wants to learn. The storm that raged within the confines of the family was palpable. Both patriarchs—his great-grandfather, and the man who now bore the mantle—held the threads of power. And Leo, still too young to wield it fully but too old to remain in the quiet. Well he didn't care that much for anything as a dragon except his daughter.
The weight of history he caused loomed heavily in his chest, if he had the heart to give them a chance of redemption.
----
Later that evening, Leo stood at the gates of the family estate, his feet firm against the cold stone, feeling the history beneath him as he stared out over the estate. He'd only been here a few times, in the past, on occasion for brief family meeting, but tonight the air felt different—charged with anticipation, tinged with the scent of old leather and incense.
The great doors of the mansion groaned open, revealing the long hall leading to the central meeting room where, according to tradition, all matters of family business were addressed. Leo walked through, his steps slow but deliberate, the sound of his boots echoing in the emptiness. The room at the end of the hall was lit only by dim sconces, the glow of firelight casting shadows across the stone walls.
As he entered the room, he saw them both.
His grandfather, the previous patriarch, was seated at the head of the long table. His hair had gone white years ago, but his posture was as strong as ever, a man of iron will despite the weight of age. His eyes were sharp, though, still burning with that same intensity that had once shaped the family with his decisive leadership.
Next to him sat the current patriarch, Leo's father. The contrast was stark: where the old patriarch carried the weight of experience, the current one carried the weight of the family. His features were etched with the lines of a man who had known both power and loss. His gaze was calculating, unwavering. The mantle of leadership sat on his shoulders like a cloak that would never fully fit, heavy with expectations and responsibility.
Leo stepped forward into the room, feeling the weight of both their gazes settle upon him. There was no sound for a moment. The air felt thick, heavy with unsaid words, but he stood there unfazed by there glances and in proper form of royalty manners.
["Leo,"] the old patriarch said, his voice gravelly but firm.["You've come. I had wondered if you would."]
The current patriarch—his father—sat in silence, his eyes narrowing slightly, watching Leo with no expression and remaining quiet.
["I came when I was called,"] Leo replied, his voice steady but carrying resolve. ["You wanted to speak with me."]
The patriarch nodded, motioning to the empty seat between them. ["Come. Sit. There is much to discuss."]
Leo did as he was told, his muscles taut beneath his clothes, his posture deliberate as he lowered himself into the chair. The old patriarch studied him for a moment, as though searching for something beneath the surface.
["So, the time has come,"] the elder patriarch said, folding his hands on the table before him. ["To test the honour and resolve you have for the family."]
The words Leo heard mentally made him laugh. ["Seriously, they really are something. One with the happy feeling that he holds it in. A pretending mask, as the silence of my father showing distance is amazing. Guess they really is no love when I placed the curse."]
He had to pretend to be tense in a way, just like his 6yr old body presents.
He had heard stories of the trials from Thalore —the tests that every successor to the patriarchate had to undergo to control the curse which had been passed down through the generations. These were not merely tests of strength or knowledge, but of character, of resolve. And Leo knew that this was his trial, but also their trial for forgiving.
The current patriarch spoke up, his voice cold and commanding.["You've kept yourself well, Leo. But you've always been in the joy and happiness. It's time to see if you can step out from it."]
Leo felt a stirring deep within his chest, a flicker of something, like excitement or anger, perhaps—but he kept it buried, kept it silent. His eyes met his father's, and for a long moment, neither spoke.
["I've never been interested in standing in anyone just the stories books hold,"] Leo said, his voice calm and resoluteas he smiled. ["I'm here to face what burdens the family, not what was. I'm not my grandfather, and I'm not you. I will become my own person, as all patriarchs must."]
The silence that followed was thick, as though both men were measuring his words, considering the weight of them. The old patriarch leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with a sharpness that made Leo uncomfortable.
["You think it's that simple?"] he asked, his tone both challenging and approving. ["Fine, but hold your resolve hard cause you will feel the pain. The pain of the dragon we killed. Soon you will feel the reason why we are banished from the outside world?"]
Leo nodded slowly but he was mentally surprised, [" The pain of my daughter. How, when, I turned he body to a star. What could they have done."] The fire in his chest burning hotter. He understood exactly what it meant. It meant that something happenes, and it holds the memory of what happened that day, like a preserved word. It meant that his decisions, his heart, would affect him. Was he strong enough to see what happened in a different vision.
["I understand,"] Leo replied, his voice unwavering. ["But I also understand that the history and deeds we harbor for there greed of our ancestors, is not something we are bound to forever."]
The old patriarch smiled faintly, a look of quiet respect flickering across his face. ["Perhaps,"] he murmured. ["Perhaps you'll prove to be more than I ever was."]
The current patriarch, however, was less impressed. His eyes narrowed further. ["The truth is, Leo, you've been nothing more than a next head in title. A quiet son, always training, and waiting for a moment that may come, but you need more. You think your strength alone will make you worthy of leadership, but the bloodline demands more than that."]
Leo's jaw tightened. His father's words though harsh was true, but they also fed the fire inside him. He'd never heard these things before—and now he wants to know what was waiting for him, the suspension in his voice—but today would be something to him, a challenge.
["Strength is the foundation,"] Leo said, meeting his father's gaze directly. ["But it's wisdom that decides the future. A patriarch who lacks wisdom is a patriarch who leads a family to ruin."] Though he said what they wanted to hear.
The old patriarch's laugh was soft, but it was full of understanding. ["Well said, boy,"] he said, leaning back in his chair. ["Very well said."]
But Leo could feel the tension still thick in the air, the scrutiny of the two men weighing heavily upon him. It wasn't over. Not yet.
["Tomorrow,"] his father said, his voice now softer but carrying a weight of finality. ["Tomorrow you will prove yourself in the trial."]
The old patriarch's eyes twinkled with amusement, a glint of something dangerous behind them. ["The trial awaits, Leo. And it is one of our bloodline's making. Do you accept?"]
Leo stood without hesitation. ["I accept."]
And with those words, the die was cast.
Tomorrow, Leo would face the trial, and only one thing would determine his judgment: his ability to rise beyond the grudge in his heart and see the integrity of the family.