Sadly, Alden’s wishes failed to reveal anything substantial. So did the next day. And the next. After four days of fruitless research, Alden was fed up with staring at a shelf of musty books. But he still had to find what he needed to find. Meeting with his ‘criminal’ contact had been a welcome distraction from his tedious research. Alden had given him a few tasks and paid him a considerable sum. He was hopeful that something would turn up, but there were no guarantees.


    Groaning as he got up, he stumbled out of bed—only to be met with the grinning visage of Frank. Alden blinked. He hadn’t seen much of the older man, too busy with his packed schedule.


    “Hey, Frank. Did I forget something? I didn’t think we had anything planned for another couple of days.” Frank raised an eyebrow. “No, we didn’t. But I also don’t remember us talking about you burying yourself in research and training every single day.”


    Alden scratched at the scruff that had started to pop up. “I’m not really sure what you’re talking about. I admit, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the library, but I’m still taking care of what I need to do. We spar almost every day, after all.”


    Frank sighed. “Yes, and you continue to improve at a frightening pace. But that’s not my point. My point is that dedicating yourself so single-mindedly to a task isn’t the best way to get results.” Alden just stared at him. “Really? Because it’s worked pretty well for me so far.” Frank waved his hands. “That may be so, but let me tell you—after over three decades of nonstop work, you’ll actually last longer if you take a break.”


    Alden tilted his head—then spotted the plates of food on the table. “I’d love to talk more, but I’d love to eat before the food gets cold even more.” Frank chuckled and stepped to the side. “Have at it. I’m more talking at you than with you anyway.”


    Alden flashed a smile and hurried over to the food, sitting down—but not before serving Frank his own meal. The man smiled and nodded before pouring Alden some water and taking a bite. As soon as he did, Alden launched into his own meal, half an eye on Frank.


    For the next couple of minutes, silence reigned, only interrupted by the scrape of utensils on plates. Finally, Alden leaned back slightly in his chair, about to relax—before remembering where he was and standing. Picking up his plate, he maneuvered over to the washbin and thoroughly cleaned it before placing it back in one of the cabinets. He returned to the table and took Frank’s now-cleaned plate, similarly washing it. Frank came up beside him, leaning against the wall. “I know what you’re working for. Why you’re doing it. But it’s not going to hold.”


    Alden kept his voice light. “Oh? Not quite sure what you mean.” Frank shifted. “No one can dedicate themselves so single-mindedly to a task forever, Alden.” Alden’s lips quirked. “I’m not so sure about that.” Frank sighed. “No one should dedicate themselves so wholeheartedly to a single purpose.” Alden turned to face him fully. “And why not?” Frank met his gaze. “Because there’s more to life than just revenge, boy.”


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    Alden cocked his head. “Like what?” Frank stared at him. “Like family. Love. Joy, improvement, leaving a legacy.” Alden just looked at him. “But why? Why do those things matter? You say it like it’s obvious, like they have inherent value. But why? Why should I deny myself what I want now for some vague, ephemeral promise of a better future?”


    Frank smiled and sighed. “Your argument sounds painfully familiar. I’ll attempt to give you the answers my decades have granted me. At some point, you will either succeed or fail in your mission. And in many ways, failure is better. Because then you will always have that ‘what if.’ What if you had accomplished it? What if you had gone all the way? If you do succeed, I suspect you will be left emptier than before. When you’re climbing a mountain, you don’t think of all the people you leave behind, all the side paths and sights you ignore—because the summit, the crest, calls to you. But when your foot makes contact with that summit—when you ascend upon that tallest peak—you will find every missed opportunity roaring at you. You will regret every side path you didn’t take, every man, woman, and child you left along your ascent. So no, I don’t have a perfect answer for you. I can’t tell you why those things make you feel wealthy, and loved, and valuable. All I can tell you is that they do.”


    Alden was silent for a moment. “You may be right. You probably are, in fact. But let me ask: would I be worth anything if I didn’t pursue this foolish goal?” Silence fell between them as they stared at one another. For a minute, it was just them and this conversation, nothing else. Frank was the first to look away, eyes moving to the wall. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe you do have to chase this goal.” His eyes traced back up to Alden as his shoulders squared. “But at some point along your journey, you’re going to have to make a choice. More than once, in fact. I cannot make that choice for you. But I can tell you that when you do discover something that gives you value—that gives you love and respect—if you pursue this path you’re on, you may not be able to move toward that warmth, that light in the caverns.”


    He stepped out of the kitchen, heading toward the door. He opened it—and paused, throwing a glance backward. “You are still my blood, Alden. Sometimes, that’s all we have. But sometimes, that’s all we need.” The door closed.


    Alden stared at it before letting out a deep breath. He walked over and settled into one of the chairs. Bob clucked at him, and Alden chuckled thickly. “Yeah. What should we do then?” Bob cocked his head at him and fluttered his wings. Alden stared at the bird and chuckled. “A purpose, huh? If only Jacob could look at me now.”


    He flexed his hands and stood abruptly. “Follow me.” With that, he turned and headed further back into the room, quickly finding the secret doorway. Pausing to take a deep breath at the crack of darkness, he exhaled before entering. Bob scrambled behind him, clucking and squawking in outrage at his mount leaving him. Alden smiled as he swept down toward the hidden room. He effortlessly followed the twists and turns until he came to a stop before the door. He put his hands on it. Pushed it open, and stepped back in.


    His gaze swept over every inch of the place as he planted his hands on his hips. Bob was right behind him, confidently sweeping into the room. He squawked at Alden. Alden sighed before bending over and picking him up, placing him at his position of honor. Bob settled in before clucking questioningly at Alden. Alden smiled. “The plan’s simple. I’ve been attempting to run before I learned to walk. My parents’ goal—I… I don’t know if I want to accomplish it.”


    His smile faltered slightly before returning at full force. “What I do know, however, is that some things are worth pursuing, even if you fail.” He smirked at the bird on his shoulder. “Now the real work begins.”