As the son of a lowly fisherman, there are many things you would wish to forget. And yet your greatest accomplishment to date is the one they have deemed to take from you. You remember it still, for you have not proved yourself a threat, perhaps never will. Your father’s loyalty to the Kingdom is forever lain upon your shoulders, and while you could easily question whether loyalty is owed, you have made no move to combat it. Even as the memory of the man, who would willingly sacrifice you to feed himself, fades, you see with perfect clarity the mould you must embrace.
Try as you might to never overpower the image of that man before you, you have no choice. You are everything he was not. Such lack of control is dangerous, and sometimes it is a blessing, for you are a bleeding heart and a survivor all in one. You are everything and you are nothing. It means you have potential, to rise above and soar, though you have tried to heed the warnings of that phantom of your past. So when they ask you who you are you hesitate, in fear, in doubt, and most of all certainty. For who you are is who they expect you to be, or that is your greatest fear. So when you return to that same shack along the shore, and sit against your father’s chair, you know you’ve lost the war. Yet you rise again in morning to view a myth he did persist, a mermaid in your nets and a much-forbidden tryst.