Weak

The elder's voice trembled with a mixture of remorse and a deep sense of responsibility.

"I tried to retire as quickly as possible, longing for a life away from the shadows of my past," he confessed, his eyes fixated on the distant horizon.

"The king granted me a piece of land as a token of recognition for my years of service. For a time, I lived in solitude, seeking solace in my isolation."

His voice grew heavy with the weight of his confession.

"But solitude couldn't silence the echoes of my own history. The cycle of resentment and hatred that plagued my family for generations found its way into my own relationship with my son. I never wanted him to suffer as I had, yet the pain seeped through the cracks, staining our bond with bitterness."

He sighed, his gaze filled with sorrow.

"When my grandson, Sun, came into this world, I was filled with an overwhelming joy. I swore to myself that I would break the cycle, that I would be the loving and attentive grandfather I had never known. But now, after what happened, I can't help but question my own ability to protect and guide those I hold dear."

His voice faltered, the unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

"It was my fault, too. I didn't want to let Sun go, fearing that he would be taken away from me. I selfishly forced my will upon you, not considering the consequences. I failed to see the danger I was exposing him to, and it nearly cost him his life."

The elder's voice cracked, the strength in his tone giving way to vulnerability.

"I almost lost him," he whispered, his words carrying the weight of a broken heart. He fought against the tears threatening to spill over, desperate to maintain composure.

With a hint of resignation, he continued,

"We delude ourselves with our own imaginations, don't we? We convince ourselves that we have control, that our actions will lead to the outcomes we desire. But the truth is, we are all bound by the limitations of our own humanity."

Draydon, overcome by a sense of responsibility and a desire to break free from the shadows of his past, spoke with a voice laced with determination.

"Elder, I have decided to leave the village. I cannot allow my past to continue controlling me, shaping my actions. I need to find my own path, away from this world, at least for a while."

The elder, his heart burdened with guilt, reached out to Draydon with understanding and compassion.

"Draydon, I do not blame you for what happened. It was a culmination of our shared mistakes and misunderstandings. You do not have to carry this burden alone. We must share the responsibility, as a family."

A moment of heavy silence enveloped them, their thoughts mingling with the sounds of nature surrounding them.

And then, amidst the quietude, the distant sound of Sun's voice reached their ears, a gentle reminder of the fragile ties that bound them together.

As the elder's heart swelled with a mix of guilt and remorse, he hurried towards the sound of Sun's voice, desperate to reach him.

With each step, the weight of his past mistakes burdened him, threatening to overwhelm his fragile resolve. When he finally arrived, he found Sun awake, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and vulnerability.

"Sun, my dear, don't move. I will carry you," the elder whispered softly, his voice laced with an earnest tenderness.

Gently, he lifted Sun onto his back, cradling him with a mixture of strength and gentleness. The weight of the boy in his arms felt like a tangible reminder of the responsibility he bore.

Draydon, his voice filled with determination, assured them both,

"Don't worry, I will bring the other kids back. We will make things right." His words echoed with a newfound sense of purpose, a commitment to mend the shattered pieces of their lives.

As they began their journey back to the village, the elder's footsteps faltered, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

A moment of contemplation washed over him, and he spoke, his voice a mere whisper,

"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." The words carried a weight of wisdom, a profound truth that resonated in the stillness of the moment.

Draydon listened, absorbing the elder's words with a mixture of understanding and introspection.

He knew that true perception required self-awareness, an acknowledgment of one's own biases and limitations.

As they continued their trek, Sun stirred awake, his voice breaking the silence.

"Grandpa," he called out softly, his words filled with a mix of pain and forgiveness. The elder's heart clenched at the sound of his grandson's voice, knowing that he had caused him so much pain.

"Sun, my dear boy, I am sorry," the elder choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

"I am sorry for forcing you to train without considering your feelings or desires. I failed you today, and for that, I am deeply sorry."

Tears welled up in Sun's eyes, his small cries punctuating the air.

"Grandpa, it's not your fault," he managed to say between sobs. "I blame myself for being weak. If I were stronger, this wouldn't have happened. I enjoyed training, and I felt invincible, but deep down, I was still weak."

Sun's vulnerability tugged at the elder's heart, tears streaming silently down his weathered face.

"Don't cry,don't cry anymore don't cry," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of love and regret. "You have time to grow stronger. Please, don't burden yourself with guilt. We will face this together."

"I have been weak, Grandpa. I have been so weak," Sun confessed, his voice trembling with self-judgment.

The weight of his own perceived weakness felt suffocating, as if he had let down not only himself but those who cared for him.

"I have been so weak. I failed you, and I failed myself."

In that moment, their tears intertwined, merging the pain and remorse that had haunted them both.

They continued their journey, their shared sorrow forging a bond of understanding and resilience. With each step, they moved forward, determined to heal and find strength in their vulnerabilities.