Chapter 35
**CHAPTER_TITLE: Dreams That Slip Away**
But the reality that met him as he grew was far from smooth. Endless scrutiny from the elders, nightmares that defied explanation, and perhaps… a prophecy manipulated for some hidden reason. The dream once within arm’s reach had now receded like a distant mirage, slipping farther and farther away. Even the throne succession felt uncertain. The grand ambition to become the magnificent leader like his great-grandfather seemed a luxury he could no longer afford.
Still, Arkin could not let go of that future. No, he *could* not. It was the only hope that kept him afloat.
From over his shoulder, Seneca’s explanation continued, but Arkin’s mind had wandered elsewhere. Suddenly, a fragment of memory long forgotten resurfaced and surged toward him like flotsam on a wave.
***
Seven years old, or so he had been. Arkin had journeyed with his father to meet his great-grandfather, who lived alone in a secluded hut at the heart of the Winter Forest’s deepest reaches.
They had set out before dawn, when the forest’s twilight still lingered. The king had given orders: no guards, only father and son to climb the pilgrimage path together. The frost-covered trail was slippery, and the young prince struggled to match his father’s stride.
They walked without pause until the sun reached its zenith. Only then did they pause to share a simple loaf of bread before urging each other onward once more. As the afternoon light began to tilt westward, they finally reached the forest’s innermost sanctuary.
“There it is.”
Nestled among the towering ancient aspens stood a modest hut that looked shabby and worn to Arkin’s eyes. Yet his father seemed more tense than during any temple ceremony. With each step closer to the destination, his father’s gait slowed, forcing Arkin to glance back at him several times.
“My legs are sore,” he muttered, though he had not asked.
The two reached the hut’s entrance, and suddenly his father’s hand shot out to seize Arkin’s own, squeezing it tightly.
“Arkin, you will soon meet your great-grandfather—the great King Chefkin. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”
His father’s palm was damp with sweat. The trembling in his voice passed straight to the boy, making Arkin’s young heart race in turn.
“The great sage… he sees through everything.”
Father’s voice trembled slightly. As if he himself feared his ancestor’s gaze, he fixed his eyes on the hut’s door and went on.
“Lies and pretense are useless. Show me what you truly are.”
*Tap. Tap. Tap.*
In the hushed forest, the sound of knocking echoed.
*Whoosh.* The cold winter wind swept through the branches. Only the rustle of dry leaves remained, and nothing stirred within the hut. Arkin stared wide-eyed at the door. After a long while, a creak split the silence as the old hinge groaned and the door slowly opened.
Through the gap emerged an old man with hair as white as snow, falling to his waist. His beard, thick and white, covered his chest like a shroud, hiding his eyes when he stepped forward.
The old man’s deep gray eyes first locked onto the king. Draped in an old brown fur cloak and clad in a rough leather vest, he looked more like a hermit than a great ruler.
“So, you’ve brought the boy to show me?”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Arkin noticed the slight tremble in his father’s voice. The old man’s gaze slowly shifted to the child. The old man stared piercingly at the young grandson, then silently stepped aside. As he slipped into the hut’s dim interior, his father shoved Arkin forward from behind.
“Get inside.”
The scent of herbs filled the hut. Small and large wooden carvings, each carefully whittled by the old man’s own hands, crowded the space. On the shelf above the fireplace hung bundles of dried herbs swaying gently, while ancient leather-bound books leaned precariously against the walls in the corners. A faint winter sunbeam filtering through the window made the dust motes sparkle like stars. The rough floorboards, worn smooth by centuries, gleamed dully.
The old man tossed two more logs into the fire, then sank into a carved wooden armchair. Staring at the crackling flames, he reached for a small basket beside the chair and pulled out a small dagger and a half-finished wooden carving. The rhythmic *scratch-scratch* of the blade on wood filled the unnatural silence.
“Arkin.”
Father’s hand pressed hard against the boy’s back.
“Greet him respectfully.”
It was a desperate effort to draw the old man’s attention. The rest was his own affair.
The young prince hesitated, then stepped forward. The closer he came, the more overwhelming presence the old man exuded, stealing Arkin’s breath.
“H-hello.”
“He is a worthy heir. He will one day become king and rule Solinar.”
Father added hurriedly. But the old man seemed to pay no heed. Still focused on the carving in his hand, he moved the blade with practiced ease.
Suddenly, the blade slipped. A faint scratch marred the wood, causing the old man’s white eyebrows to furrow slightly. He examined the piece carefully, said nothing for a long moment, and let out a long sigh.
“Come closer.”
He set the knife down and slowly lifted his head. His deep gaze pierced straight through Arkin.
As if waiting for exactly this, father began rattling off his son’s achievements.
“Arkin already shows outstanding talent. He reads and writes, of course, and has mastered rune script as well. He can even communicate with the forest spirits… and shooting with the bow is unmatched among his peers. He is gentle and kind, always surrounded by friends, and possesses immense patience. Compared to the sons of other noble families’ elders, he is superior in every way…”
A blush crept across Arkin’s face. Sweat beaded on his clenched palms. Some of what his father boasted was exaggerated beyond the truth. The rune test had been won by the son of the Arrowwood elder. If father had not pushed him, Arkin might have done even better, but the conclusion was the same.
“We will raise him worthy of Solinar’s glory and King Chefkin’s reputation… with no cause for concern.”
“You are delicate. Your hands are so soft.”
The old man extended his wrinkled hand and took Arkin’s. Father’s grand words fell silent. Now only Arkin and the old man met each other’s eyes. The old man, staring fixedly, asked,
“Do you believe you are worthy to become the king of Solinar?”
The voice was low and deep, as if echoing from the earth’s core. Before Arkin could even think, he shook his head. He always felt inadequate. All nine young princes had worked hard. He was no different; he was not specially superior.
“Honest as always. That is better.”
A faint smile finally spread across the old man’s wrinkled face. What did that smile mean? Arkin’s instincts screamed warning.
“You are the boy who will become Solinar’s future. Far greater than the wretched sons of the Arrowwood Tribe or the Ash-Fruit Clan.”
“It seems your expectations of this child are high.”
At that moment, Arkin felt an unfamiliar energy flow into him through the old man’s hand. It was cool, almost chilling, like a tiny stream racing through his body before vanishing back into the old man’s grasp. Yet the old man merely looked at him as if nothing had occurred.
“You will definitely become the king who raises Solinar. I am certain of it. Our aspen clan’s…”
“You… what is your opinion? Do you wish to become the king of Solinar?”
The sudden question startled him. Arkin nodded vigorously.
“Yes, I do wish to.”
But the old man’s expression remained clouded. He swept his gaze over Arkin’s golden hair, studied his blue eyes, and once more took and released his small, soft hand. Then, in a quiet sigh, he added,
“…That is greed.”
--- **CHAPTER_TITLE: Dreams That Slip Away**