“I… I don’t…” Argent replied in a confused tone. “A… a throne?”
The old man nodded. “Yes, you majesty.” His eyes glimmered in the light of day. “Your gift… I can’t believe… There isn’t any way you could be able to forget,” he pondered out loud, then quickly shut his mouth, bowing his head again. “Excuse me for saying such rash words majesty, of course there is no reason to doubt you…”
The blonde man still looked confused. “A gift? But…” His voice trailed off as he thought. What gift was this man talking about? Who was he anyway? How come the man knew his name? Did he know him?
“Prince Argent, please, come with me and I will explain,” the old man said quietly, taking Argent by the arm and guiding him over to a spot on the floor that wasn’t covered in black ashes. Quickly covering it with his cape, he muttered a quick apology, not daring to look Argent in the eyes.
Argent sat down, not even really noticing the cloak. The elder sat down next to him, face downcast. Then he began explaining.
“Your gift, your majesty… It’s a long story. I…” The elder took a breath. “It was first discovered you had this gift when you were still a little boy. You were able to heal yourself after getting small wounds. The first time we noticed was when you fell out of a tree and sprained your ankle. You were found crying, sitting under a tree and clutching your ankle. Someone had to carry you to the medical guard because you refused to walk, but at the time you were inside safely the guard couldn’t find a thing wrong. After that you healed incredibly quick from scratches and other small injuries of the like.” The old man stopped momentarily, stroking his beard. “Also, magic wasn’t a strange thing to you at all, and talismans never once failed on you.”
“How… But how do you know-?”
The elder sighed. “That’s of later concern, my prince.”