"If I'd been a proper Dragonblood, if I'd been stronger, I could have protected Mom and Dad. But I couldn't. Because I'm a half-measure..."
This small child was blaming himself over some absurd notion.
Why on earth had that man, calling himself a swordsmanship instructor, planted such terrible guilt in this child with words like that?
The reason, honestly, was obvious.
Morden had wanted to control Jayden.
He'd meant to shackle him with guilt and forge him into the ideal Dragonblood he envisioned.
Whether it damaged the child or not, he'd tried to bend Jayden to fit his own convictions.
And a fragile child with nowhere else to turn had fallen helplessly for his cruelty.
"So I wanted to get strong. This time..."
Jayden gripped my clothes tightly with his small, fidgeting hand. His knuckles had gone white.
"This time, I wanted to protect. I didn't want to lose anymore...…
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