Chapter 15: A Hard Choice.
Cassian rested his back against the outside wall of the house, enjoying the cool relief of the stone.
"Now that he's well, what is your plan?" Cassian asked.
The old man paused, running a hand through his sparse white hair.
"I'm not sure. Perhaps try to reach out to my daughter and her husband."
"Are you going to tell him why they left?" Cassian asked, his voice entirely devoid of inflection.
The old man gave a nervous, shaky laugh. "You can't seriously expect me to tell him his parents abandoned him. He's just a child."
Cassian pushed himself off the wall and faced the old man, his expression hardening.
"The Mythril Crystal will do more than heal him," Cassian said, his voice dropping to a serious tone.
"It will give him strength and power beyond his imagination. He will one day bring wealth and be a source of hope to the people around him. I see true greatness in his future."
The old man was shocked by the sheer confidence of Cassian's prophecy.
"Do you know what will happen if he finds out the truth himself later on?" Cassian continued, stepping closer.
"Believe me when I tell you, it would be a catastrophe for his parents, but more importantly, for you."
The old man listened, his eyes wide.
Cassian was right about the risk of discovery, but he wrestled with the moral dilemma: did he want to burden his grandson with despair, knowing his parents left him for dead?
The conviction in Cassian's voice, the way he spoke about betrayal and truth, made the old man realize the impressive young mage standing before him was a victim of a similar tragedy.
SIGH.
The old man exhaled slowly. He had no idea how to approach this. Clearly, the young mage was an expert in this specific field of emotional trauma.
"What should I do now?" he asked, humbling himself to the mage's experience.
"First thing, tell him the truth. And don't make any attempt to reach out to his parents," Cassian said, the final instruction shocking the old man.
"But why?" he asked.
"His parents will only slow his growth, especially once he knows the truth," Cassian stated.
"The power and potential he possesses should not be obstructed by anyone's sentimentality. For his sake, do not seek them out."
The old man fell silent, carefully processing the advice. Cassian, seeing the internal struggle, the hesitancy to sever the familial link, knew he had to deliver the final, brutal truth.
"I thought that family loved and stuck by each other through thick and thin," Cassian said, his voice flat and cold.
"Your daughter and her husband ran, disappearing without a trace, leaving you with the impossible burden of caring for their sick child. They waited for him to die so they could avoid the pain."
The old man went quiet, the words hammering against the false reality he had forced himself to believe. He had always clung to the idea that his daughter had a 'good reason' for leaving. Cassian was now laying the full, ugly picture before him. The old man stared blankly into the distance, his face etched with pure, crushing realization.
Cassian thought inwardly: The funny thing about being human is ignorance, or forced perception. They instill ideas in their heads that contradict reality. But when the pieces are finally laid before them with evidence, their manufactured world shatters, and reality brings them crashing down.
The old man was finally grasping the reality of his situation. The false comfort of his belief had been violently shattered. He realized his daughter stopped caring and fled, leaving him to care for a child she believed was beyond hope.
"I'm a failure of a father," the man said, the realization finally dawning.
Cassian saw the defeated look on the man's face.
"You may have failed to raise your daughter," Cassian said, his tone softening only slightly,
"but you are not a failure as a grandfather."
He needed to shift the man's focus.
"I have to thank you," Cassian said, snapping the old man out of his self-pity.
"Huh? Why?" the old man asked, confused.
"For not giving up on him," Cassian replied. "And I know that a day will come when he will appreciate you for that."
The old man stood marveling at the young man's words. They were not just an acknowledgment but an immense source of encouragement.
"You may have failed with your daughter, but at least you have a second chance with the boy," Cassian said, a profound, lingering sadness entering his voice.
"Not many people get a chance to start over. Count yourself lucky."
The old man noticed the sudden darkness in Cassian's tone but wisely decided not to pry.
"Make sure you never tell anyone about the crystal, and make sure he never tells anyone either," Cassian
warned, his seriousness returning. "The repercussions would be deadly."
He turned to leave.
"Thank you, young..." The old man stopped, realizing he hadn't asked the young man's name. How rude of me, he thought.
"What is your name?" he asked quickly.
Cassian paused in his stride.
"Just call me The Mystic Mage," he said, fully embracing the adventurer's title. "It has a nice ring to it."
"Take care of your grandson. I'd like to meet him again one day." Cassian finished, walking away.
The old man took a deep breath, putting his mind at rest. He focused on the simple, terrifying task ahead: telling his grandson the truth.
"The sooner the better," he muttered, before opening the door and entering the room.