Assurance
Meant To Be :: Two Steps from Hell

20 May 2086
Mordaunt Manor
Cambridgeshire, England


Just like the manor itself, the bedroom is richly adorned with trinkets big and small, mostly prized possessions from generations past, all of which displayed proudly, screaming with elegance and refinement just like its owner. Through the gaps of a richly cloaked window, the early morning sun filtered through and illuminated a young man’s face, peacefully asleep as he drifted through a pleasant dream, and the cacophony of singing birds echoing outside his window accompanying his moment of bliss.

Silently making his presence known, a tall man in his fifties stood at the threshold, clothed in the finest threads and manifested the aura of aristocracy, mirroring the exquisiteness of his immediate surroundings. He carries power with his stature but his countenance full of calm, his eyes brimming with affection towards the sleeping form on the bed, comfortably wrapped in the stillness of the new day.

Aldrich knew that the day has come for him to say his bittersweet good bye to the good old times, and renew his vow as a parent. It is time for him to step back and slowly tread the tranquil life of retirement. The man hoped that he did well as a father and mentor, despite the painful departing of his wife. Breathing in the rich smell of summer, Aldrich centered himself and prayed, as he stood there longingly, that Mordred’s married life would be a happy and favorable one. The man knew that his son, his precious one, missed the chance to enjoy the things that a complete family could offer. If there was one thing he would like to see before he departs this cruel world, it would be to see his beloved child happy, and content.

The man approached his son who was still engulfed in a sea of thick blankets, the young man’s head deeply buried in his soft pillow, oblivious of his father’s presence. Aldrich sat down on his bed side, as quiet and as graceful like a serpent slithering towards his target. The man studied the sleeping form lovingly, blinking away the silver tears that lingered on his lashes. It had been years since he took the time to quietly gaze at his son as he slept, happily living another life in his dream. Aldrich cracked a smile as he brushed one calloused finger on Mordred’s brow, silently and sadly reminiscing the time when his son would have a bad dream and call out to him. Soon, he knew that Mordred will no longer call him for comfort; instead, his son will be the one to have endless sleepless nights, rushing towards another room, comforting his own offspring. Aldrich took in a sharp gasp of air, almost shocked with the revelation, but alas, it must be accepted.

His azure eyes fell on Mordred’s grown hand. Slightly calloused, it showed the bulging veins against his skin carrying the pure Mordaunt blood, crisscrossing the back of his hand like an intricate work of art. It was a painful reminder that his boy had already passed the stage of awkward adolescence, and is now more than ready to tread the bigger world. Aldrich knew that his Mordred was more than ready for it. Was the world ready for him, though? The aged man gently took his son’s hand on his own and caressed it with his thumb. He was lost in the eddy of solace and peace with each stroke. Aldrich knew that a lot of shifting and changing will commence in a few hours, and the man wished that he could encase his son’s last moments as a boy. He only needed a moment. A moment to remember everything.

Aldrich swallowed the bile in his mouth as unwanted tears started to roll down his cheeks. He covered Mordred’s hand with his own, desperate to stop the time. He is stubborn to accept that his son is no longer a child. The man breathed in and out, seeking strength from the memories of his wife and used those to keep what was left of his composure. Aldrich berated himself for being selfish. However, he cannot be blamed. He knew that that day would come, but he did not expect that he will have to face that moment alone.

Aldrich uncovered Mordred’s hand, and saw a younger version of it. His hand was free from scratches and other markings, unharmed and protected from the evils of the world. The man smiled at it, and looked up to see a young boy, no more than nine years old with pink, bulging cheeks sound asleep. Aldrich painfully imprinted the image in his memory, for he knew that when he blinks, it will be gone forever. A content sigh and another tear came out of his eye as he slowly detached himself emotionally from his anchor. His Mordred. The man leaned closer and planted a loving and lasting kiss on his forehead. A kiss that is all too familiar to his son; a reassuring gesture that everything in the world will be fine, a guarantee that he will be there as long as time permits him. Aldrich finally blinked, and accepted the painful present. “Everything will be all right, Mordred. I vowed to your mother that I will be there for you when you need me. I can only hope that you will not forget me, my son. I love you, with all of my heart.” The words were expressed with gentleness and sincerity as his lips brushed his son’s hair as he spoke. It was a whispered promise full of undiluted love that only a loving parent can convey.

A sad grin escaped from Aldrich’s lips, as he inched away from his son. He might as well start reeling back his chains, and let go of everything else except for the memories he shared with Mordred. He must let go of his son, so that he could have a life of his own. As one of the highly respected Aurors, Aldrich stood straighter, proud shoulders expanded beneath his expensive clothing, and turned to go. He too must prepare for the battle ahead, but for now, he will let Mordred sleep longer, and continue to tread in his dreams. One last longing look was given to the sleeping form, and Aldrich gently closed his chapter as a doting father with the click of his son’s door.

Everything that transpired was not anticipated by the young man. As soon as he heard his door close, Mordred stirred beneath the layers of thick blankets and covered his eyes with his arm as he released his emotions to the heavens. He let himself be carried in a whirlpool of differing sentiments, gasping for air from time to time. He and his father have been through testing times, his mind filled with happy and sad memories with him. He danced with him through the storm, and now, he must let go because it’s now Sophie’s turn to dance with him. It will be a different beat this time, and a different story. Mordred knew that he cannot stop change, as much as he can’t stop the world from spinning. His father will remain in his heart, but today on his wedding day, he must let go of his father’s hand, and tread a different path with his future wife.

And so he lay there, taking in deep breaths as he centered himself. His future and the unknown awaited him as the gleaming sun made its presence known through the gaps of his emerald curtain. Mordred convinced himself that there is nothing to fear. He was assured with a loving promise and in return, he shall never, ever forget his words, nor the person whom he calls 'Father'.