Elyar slept like he had not slept in a dozen moons. The events of the previous days had left his body bruised, cut, and exhausted. Sleep had taken him while he thought about his father laughing down the hall and the implications of the comment that caused the laugh. Have my parents already found me a woman to betroth? He didn’t linger on that thought long before darkness overwhelmed him.
“Elyar, it’s time to wake up.”
A raspy groan was all Elyar could do to respond. He felt like he had only lain for a few moments. His closed eyes could feel light cascading over him. “Is it time already?” He asked the voice. He put his arm over his eyes to black the beam of light. He wanted to sleep longer if he could.
“Yes, it is time to awake, little brother. We have errands to go do before the feast tonight. Father wants you up and ready. He is already in the hall eating with Lord Cane.” Elyar knew the voice was that of Pitre. Yonn would have pushed him out of bed by now.
“Ok, ok. I am coming.” Elyar responded. After a moment or two more he finally opened his green eyes. Light flashed constricting his pupils. He squinted and moved his head trying to get away from the horrid thing. He looked around and saw a stone room with wooden beams across the ceiling. A few digitorches had been set in the corners, but they weren’t on at the moment. A tapestry hung against the far wall depicting men out in a field harvesting what looked like wheat. Pitre stood in front of Elyar waiting for him.
“Come on. My patience only goes so far.” Pitre said with his arms crossed. His face still looked calm, but Elyar could tell he was getting impatient. His lips were pursed. That was always his tell. Elyar jumped up and changed into the clothes he had brought. He downed brown cotton pants and a dark red tunic. Pitre was walking through the door as
Elyar hopped to put on his leather boots.
“Waite up!” He yelled almost falling over as he slid on his second shoe.
“No, hurry up! I want to get some food before Yonn eats it all.”
Elyar quickened his walking. Yonn had a never ending appetite. It might already be too late to get food. They rounded the banester and began their descent toward the first floor. A few turns and they were at the entryway. In front of Elyar was the great door while to his right stood another large door. It was closed and Elyar hadn’t seen where it led to. Pitre began walking toward the walkway to his left. An amazing smell wafted through the air toward Elyar. He took a deep breath as he headed down the hall behind his brother.
It wasn’t a long hallway. A few digitorches lit the way, but there wasn’t much else to see. Elyar still walking behind Pitre, emerged from the hallway into another large room. He looked to his left and noticed two more doors and a large tapestry hanging high on the wall. Studying it for a moment Elyar noticed that it was a knight dualing a dragon. At least he figured it was a dragon. There were no pictures of them in the Feud, but it matched the description from his studies. His eyes drifted from the dragon to the rest of the room. A long table stood in the center. It was nearly three times the size of the one back home. Right now there were about a two dozen people eating with another dozen servants fluttering about serving. One was pouring something, another was handing a ladel to another, and still a third was clearing some used dishes. The room was chaotic.
Pitre was making a bee line toward the far end. Elyar looked to see where they were going and that is when he noticed Yonn behind a large pile of steaming veggies and bread. Edaam was on his right with Lord Cane beside him at the head of the table. They were laughing and seemed to be in the middle of a funny story. As they approached Edaam was the first to notice them.
“Ah! I see you have finally come to join us!” Edaam exclaimed while waving his hand gesturing them to come over. “Come, come. We have decided on the events of the day.” He looked at Elyar and said, “you will follow your brothers as they make sure our men have everything they need. Then you will make sure our carts are ready for the market tomorrow. We will be heading back in three days time.” He then looked at Pitre while nudging Yonn and said, “you two know what to do. Just make sure no one else tries to mug your brother. I don’t think he could handle any more excitement. I know your mother couldn’t.”
With that they all laughed and sat down to eat. Everyone laughed except Elyar. He made a face at his brothers as he sat not enjoying the jest aimed at him. A servant quickly brought some steaming food and a glass of something cold and sweet. It was a clear, red color and Elyar wasn’t sure what it was, but it tasted good.
They sat, ate, and talked for a while until everyone seemed satisfied. As a few servants cleared their dishes, they all rose and headed their sep arate ways. Elyar with his brothers and Edaam with Cane.
It would take a few hours for the young men to complete their task. Based on his brothers speed, Elyar knew they were ready to get it over with. First they headed down to the inn their men were set up at. They headed down a different main road than the one Elyar had walked the previous night. This one was windier and had more shops than the other one. Elyar smelled less bakeries and other food venders and noticed more blacksmiths, leathersmiths, tanneries, stables, and any other form of utility crafter he could think of. It was a cocophany of smells, sounds, and visuals.
As they walked down the street Elyar didn’t notice a lot of birds. There were always birds in Erast. He thought that was curious. But the thought quickly faded as his attention turned to one shop after another. He could hear some conversations here and there, and of course there was Yonn and Pitre who seemed to never stop talking. Especially Yonn. But no one seemed to bother them on this street. No vender yelling about their wears. No pedestrians loitering around a bakery or eatery.
Everyone was busy about their daily grind. Elyar kind of liked the feeling. The feeling to be busy with a purpose. Now that he was finished with the triad, he wasn’t sure what his purpose was. He stopped in the street for a brief moment thinking, what am I going to do with my life?
He quickly started walking before his brothers abandoned him. But as he took his first step a voice from the back of his mind softly spoke, “…come to me…” He quickly shook his head trying shake the voice out of his mind, but he didn’t think it would work.
He pondered the words Rhysander spoke that night until they reached the inn. It was a homely place full of life and noise. A sign hung over the door and Elyar had to study it for a moment to piece together its meaning. He saw a deer with an arrow in its heart. The Dead Deer? Is that it’s name? He thought to himself. The door swung open and he heard a voice call from within, “welcome to the Fallen Doe! Ye boys look ing fer somtin or someone?”
They quickly entered and saw the man who had called out. He stood behind a bar wearing a leather apron over simple clothes. There was nothing unique about the man. He had shaggy brown hair and some stubble across his face. He was of average height and could have easily vanished in a crowd. Elyar thought he would not be able to identify him if asked to. Yonn had been telling the man their purpose and he, what was his name? Elyar wasn’t sure. He must have missed any introductions. But, the man was pointing toward the back of the room where a group
of men sat. Elyar looked over and recognized most of them. One particular young man caught his attention. Jerome was standing up and seemed to be in the middle of a song. That man sure likes the spotlight! Elyar joked to himself as he walked over to hear him better.
Jerome stood on a table holding a small guitar like instrument. Elyar wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it did sound pretty. Jerome noticed the newcomers, gave the three a wink, and then strummed his instrum ent and burst into a new chorus.
Eh dee eye, hook yer lass to take yer shot!
Eh dee eye, if you miss her boys she will be lost!
Throw one drink down yer gullet, strengthen your will to walk her way, If you don’t a coward you will beeeeeee!
Jerome slowed down his strumming and lowered his voice.
Once there was a lass so pretty she nearly did killed me,
Her hair was long, her waist so thin, and her chest? That did thrill me!
But my luck was lost,
I lost my chance,
And forever I will hate my loss.
He bounced back up and returned to the chorus.
Eh dee eye, hook yer lass to take yer shot!
Eh dee eye, if you miss her boys she will be lost!
Throw one drink down yer gullet, strengthen your will to walk her way, If you don’t a coward you will beeeeeee!
Elyar noticed the crowed knew the song well. Elyar kept looking around during the song. and noticed most of the men near Jerome sang along, but there were still many others who continued their conversations. Though some had to move farther away. Elyar smiled as he saw the merriment around him. He even sang under his breathe a little during the second chorus. Singing was never his strong suit. It always made him nervous. As the song ended, Jerome jumped down from the table and rejoined his group. Yonn, Pitre, and Elyar now included.
Once things quieted down, Yonn and Pitre walked toward Dale, the leader of their men, Elyar was sitting a little ways away, not caring to deal with the details his brothers were engaged in. A maid had walked up and handed them a drink at some point during the song. Jerome plopped himself near Elyar as he took a sip. “‘Morning young lord. How has your stay been here in Val?” Chuckling, Elyar described the previous day. When he got to the mugging, Jerome looked at him with a big grin on his face. By the time he had finished Jerome had tears down his face from laughter.
“It wasn’t that funny of a tale,” Elyar said smiling. He could see some of the humor now that he had slept, but he didn’t think it was that funny.
“Oh, but it was!” Laughed Jerome. “Imagine a young lord taking a stroll in a new place, getting lost, and having to fight off two little
pickpockets. I am glad you are safe of course, but it is a funny story.”
Elyar saw more of the humor when the story was placed in that light. They sat and talked a few more minutes before Elyar decided to
ask Jerome about his songs. “You like to sing, don’t you?”
“Why yes. Yes I do!” Answered Jerome emphatically. Obviously he had had a few more drinks than Elyar. He aparently had no problem drinking early in the day. Elyar still had most of his drink, taking only a sip here or there.
“I don’t want this to sound the wrong way, but why do you like to
sing? I mean is it just for the delight of it or is there another reason?”
Jerome seemed to sober up a little at the question. His reaction slightly confused Elyar. He hadn’t meant to hurt Jerome’s feelings or anything. They were new friends and Elyar enjoyed his company. But, he didn’t know how to have friends outside of his family. This was new to him. Before he could continue down that thought path Jerome responded, “I know you didn’t mean your statement wrongly young lord, and I do not take it as such. Singing is a complex thing for me. That is all. I sing to bring joy…” He paused again. Elyar could tell there was more, but he didn’t want to press.
“No need to continue if you do not wish. I was only curious. No one in my family sings. It is not high on the lists for a duke or his family.” Elyar said before Jerome could continue. That seemed to ease the man as the tension in his shoulders and hands relaxed.
“Thank you, young lord. But what does a lord learn up in those long halls and high towers if it isn’t songs or poetry?” Jerome asked after a few moments of silence between the two. The question struck Elyar as weird. But then he thought about it for a moment. A thought came to his mind that he had never thought about.
“You don’t hear about the lives of dukes much do you?”
“No. The lives of your kind are a mystery full of magic and wonder to us mortals!” Jerome responded with a chuckle. “Some of us in the vill age wonder what you great lords get up to. Some don’t.”
“I take it you are apart of the wonderers then?” Elyar laughed raising an eyebrow.
“That I am. But pardon my question if I have crossed a boundry. I have never conversed with a noble much. I don’t know the proper etiquet.”
That made Elyar laugh. “To be quite honest, nor do I. My father is
not much for keeping the classes separate. Other nobles, so I am told, do not work with their vassals. Nor do they help repair their roofs!” Elyar beamed as he sipped from his cup. They both continued to talk and laugh as the mid morning progressed. Elyar explained some of his training, how he had to read so many books on history and fighting on top of learning calligromancy.
“May I ask one last question?” “Only one more?” Joked Elyar.
“Probably not, young lord, probably not.” He laughed back. “But I have often heard the term ‘triad,’ but have never had it explained. What is it?” Jerome looked at Elyar a little more seriously than before.
Elyar took a sip of his drink while he pondered the question. He knew what it was, but he was not sure how to explain it to another. After a moment he began, “magic is difficult to explain. We Koraxians cannot outright weave. But we can project weaving into an object. Those who can channel a part of themselves into something through runes. Calligromancy is that process.” He stopped for a moment to take another sip. “To answer your question, the triad is how calligromancers project. I don’t know how to explain it really. But…I…open myself up to the world in a way where I feel the power around me. Calligromancers have to use not only their mind, but their soul and the body as well. My tutors always told me the more unified those three things are, the more powerful and calligromancer.”
Jerome sat there for a moment thinking about what he had just
heard. Elyar looked at him, waiting for a response. Jerome’s brow was furrowed and he kept biting his lower lip. He knew that was a lot to hear, and he was waiting for a flood of questions. After a moment of silence, a long moment to Elyar, Jerome suddenly said, “can you show me?”
Surprise flashed over Elyar’s face. That was not the statement he exp ected to hear. “of course. Anything in particular?”
Jerome again looked like he was thinking. There was that lip biting. I guess that is his thinking face. What is mine, I wonder?
“Can you freeze my drink?” Jerome said while pointing at his cup.
“I’m not sure. I can try.” Replied Elyar. He took Jerome’s cup and asked if anyone had a pencil. No one near them did, but the barkeep procured one after Jerome asked him. Plopping down back at their table, holding out the writing utensil, Jerome was ready to see some weaving. Concentrating, Elyar drew the runes for freeze. He opened his mind like he always did, focused his entire being into the task. Once he finished he breathed out toward the cup and felt a pulse of energy from his body. This release felt closer to when he ignited his sword. The cup in front of them started to slowly turn blue and white. Icy fingers crawled from the words circling the cup. Little icy patterns etched themselves behind the fingers. After a few seconds the enter cup, and the liquid within, were frozen. Jerome picked up the cup, switching it between his hands shaking his off hand due to the cold, and then dropped the cup on the table.
It broke into a few large chunks.
“Well look at that. I half thought you calligromancers were making it up. But look at that.” Jerome said, looking at Elyar. Before Elyar could respond a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Time to go to our next order of business,” Yonn said. Looking at Jerome, who was still playing with the frozen cup, which was starting to drip, Elyar bid his farwell reaching out to clasp Jerome’s arm. Yonn and Pitre gave one last goodbye to the men and started heading toward the door.
Clasping arms Jerome said, “until this evening young lord. And th ank you for the demonstration.”
Confused, Elyar asked, “This evening?”
“Yes, it is customary for all of a lord’s retinue to partake in the Feast of Fiscs. You didn’t know?”
“No, but I am glad to have someone there besides my brothers. Yonn likes to get rowdy and Pitre always disappears. Father will sit with the other dukes and I have been told I will meet my betrothed. With you there I will feel a little more comfortable.”
With an eyebrow raised, Jerome teased, “your betrothed, eh? Who is the lucky lady?”
“I’ve never met her.” Elyar said not hiding his anxiety well.
“Elyar! Let’s go!” Pitre yelled across the room.
“Tonight.” Jerome said as Elyar turned and followed his brothers.
They exited the room and turned toward the stables. After another long walk they found where their e-steeds had been kept. They inspected the carts, animals, and made sure everything was ready for the next day. Elyar watched them work. He had little to do, and really wasn’t sure why his father had told him to go with them. After a bit he started wandering around the stable. Bordem wasn’t something Elyar was used to. As he walked through the empty stable his mind started moving back to dark thoughts. Thoughts of uselessness.
A neigh from a nearby e-steed woke him from the dark void. Looking up he saw Yonn staring at him. They looked at each other for an awkward moment. He couldn’t take the staring any longer and finally yelled, “What?! Why are you staring?”
Walking toward Elyar, Yonn leaned against a wooden beam. Dust cascaded from a shifted rafter. It floated down through the beams of sunlight. Yonn’s face was framed between two rays of light. Elyar could see the concern on his face and that made him fidget. He snapped his thumb and pointer finger nails together making a soft click. “I know you think that Pitre is the thoughtful one. But I notice more than you think. I know you have had a rough couple of days. You haven’t seemed yourself for a few weeks actually.”Elyar couldn’t look at his brother as he spoke. Yonn continuing to speak took a step forward, “I just want to make sure you are ok. I remember coming of age and the expecations that come
with it. Father especially likes to rip the betrothed bandage right off.”
With that Elyar chuckled. After a moment of silence he responded, “I know you mean well, but I don’t think our situations are the same. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Speak to me Elyar. I want to help.”
Heat swealed within Elyar. He didn’t know where it came from, but he suddenly yelled at Yonn, “NO! I don’t think you can help! None of you can! You have purpose! I have heard father speak that you will be the master of Val one day. Pitre will be the master of the Feud. Both of you have your lives ahead of you. Lives of purpose and honor.” Heavily breathing he finished, “I…have…nothing.” The explosion was over. The blast had released the swealing heat. Now, chest rising with every heavy breath, he felt cold and tired. He still hadn’t dared looking at Yonn. Now he glanced a look. He expected to see his eldest brother enraged. Maybe about to strike him. Instead a silent tear trailed down his face.
“I am sorry you feel that way. You will have purpose here at Val or at the Feud. Neither of us are going to cast you aside. You can have whate ver you want.” Yonn said trying his best at comforting Elyar.
“But I will still be in one of your shadows.” With that he walked thr ough the stable door near him and headed back toward the keep.