Part Two
The Prophecy
Queen Araiel sat weakly in the bedroom she once shared with Eglanor. She felt a chill run through her and she shivered against the light breeze that came into the window. It was a summer day and she was chilled to the bone. Her hands trembled as she rubbed them to warm them up. There was a gentle knock on the door, followed by her handmaiden’s voice.
“Majesty?” Eliza pulled the door open just enough for her to squeeze through before she shut it behind her. “Your son, Finreth, is here to see you. He says you asked for him.” She bowed as she spoke.
Araiel smiled softly, “I did. Let him in, Eliza.” Her voice was soft and level.
Eliza nodded firmly, and turned to open the door again.
“Eliza? Bring me my tea set and hot water, please.” Queen Araiel’s voice stopped Eliza before she could even touch the doorknob again.
“Yes, majesty. Right away.” Eliza bowed again and opened the door, motioning for the boy waiting outside to enter before closing the door after him and disappearing into the castle.
Finreth stood rigidly by the door in the dark of his mother’s bedroom. His mother smiled at him, and held her hand out in his direction.
“My son, come sit by me.” She called to him weakly. She cleared her throat, but only ended up coughing lightly.
Finreth immediately eased and crossed the distance between them quickly, kneeling in front of his mother. “You should be in bed, mother. Being up like this isn’t good for your health.” He was concerned.
Araiel frowned at him, “you’re not permitted to tell me what to do, Finreth. I don’t have much time left and I’d rather be-”
“Don’t say that. You have plenty of time left.” Finreth cut her off firmly.
The queen laughed dryly, “are we still in denial about my illness?”
Finreth looked at his mother with determination in his eyes, “just optimistic. You’ll recover and be stronger than ever.”
There was a knock on the door before the door came open again. Eliza appeared with a tray in her hands, closing the door immediately behind her before approaching the Queen with the tray of tea. She placed the tray down on the table beside her and began to prepare it.
Finreth stood and nodded in a way that excused the servant and began to prepare the tea himself.
Eliza nodded, “will you need anything else, majesty?”
“No, that should be all.” Araiel said without looking away from the window.
Eliza bowed lowly and exited the room quietly just as she had entered.
Finreth finished mixing his mother’s tea and handed it to her gently.
She wrapped her freezing hands around the cup as she tried to get warm. “You did a wonderful thing for Tuon earlier.”
Finreth closed his eyes slowly, his jaw clenching, “how did I know you would already know about that?”
Araiel smiled, “I’m your mother - I know everything.” She sighed, “I’m really worried about your younger brother, Finreth.”
Finreth said nothing, insteading facing the window so he wouldn’t need to discuss his brothers.
“I know you try to stay out of the fray with your brothers, but I always hoped you three would be friends like you used to when you were younger.” The queen took a gentle sip of the tea and felt the heat warming her from the inside.
“Unfortunately I think that time has passed, mother. Galan is a pig-head and Tuon is a bundle of resentment waiting to blow. If you’re trying to suggest I perform a miracle, then you should already know that my answer is a firm ‘no.’” Finreth did not turn to look at his mother, for he knew if he did that she would guilt trip him into doing something he absolutely refused to do.
Araiel sighed and looked away, deciding to not press her luck, “are you still painting, Finreth?”
“I don’t paint.” Finreth responded immediately without thinking.
His mother’s lips quirked into a smile as she shook her head, “no, of course not. Forgive me, I must be losing my mind with this illness.” She paused, running her fingers around the rim of her tea glass. “Are you still,” she cleared her throat and straightened herself just slightly, “‘working on your individual projects?’” She pursed her lips.
Finreth turned and spared her a glance, unable to resist a smile that came over his face. “When I have spare time, yes. I’m running low on supplies though.”
“I see, I’ll send Eliza out to supply you later.” His mother nodded before looking into her tea sadly. “I’m sorry your father has scared you into hiding about that. I hope you know it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Finreth looked away again. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten mother, but everything I am is something to be ashamed of according to him.”
“He’s been very hard on you and Tuon, but after we lost-”
“I don’t want to talk about this any longer, mother. We talk about it every single time I come up to see you. I don’t want to think about Amet anymore mother. I don’t want to think about how things could’ve been. This is how they are.” Finreth responded coldly.
His mother was emotionless, and she nodded, opting to change the subject instead before she ended up losing her only company for the afternoon. “Have you had any time away from your - projects” she spoke the word slowly, giving him a knowing stare, “-to meet any nice young ladies?”
Finreth felt a dry laugh escape him, “I’ve changed my mind, can we talk about Amet now?”
His mother laughed lightly, she didn’t do that very much these days it seemed. “Oh Finreth, you’re not getting out of this one that easily. I want to be sure my dearest son will have someone to take care of him after I’m gone.”
Finreth let out an exaggerated sigh, “believe me, mother, I’m sure you’ll find a way to pester me long after you’re gone.”
Araiel let out another laugh that was unfortunately interrupted by another coughing spell. Finreth bent over her concerned, but she waved him off. “You really should speak more often, dear. Talking with you always brightens my day.” She frowned again, “Galan and your father don’t visit me much at all anymore, and Tuon… the boy always comes and reads me a book every morning,” she smiled softly, “but his choice in literature is always a little dry.”
Finreth smirked, “glad I could brighten up something for you, mother.” He paused and looked at his mother thoughtfully. “I have a deal for you, if you’re keen.”
She looked at him with skeptical eyes, “and what kind of deal are you offering me, Finreth?”
“If you promise that you’re going to be around to kick me down the aisle to some poor woman, I promise the next time I come to visit you I’ll drag Galan with me - kicking and screaming.” He was grinning while he made the proposal.
Laughter caused Araiel’s shoulders to shake, and she nodded. “I’ll do my best, my son.”
Finreth bowed to his mother, “do you need me to fetch Eliza in for anything?”
Araiel nodded thoughtfully, “please send her back in, I think I will be in need of some supplies.” She smiled at him knowingly and reached for him, taking his hand in hers. Finreth bent down to her eye level as she spoke again. “Take care of yourself, my Finreth.”
She said it to him every time he left, for she never knew when it might be the last.
Finreth nodded to her, kissing her cheek as he stood. “Get some rest, mother.”
-------------------------------------------
Galan’s morning conversation with his father caused him to do something that was much out of character for him; nevertheless he ignored the odd stares he got as he took to the castle library in search of understanding.
Prince Tuon, who was usually a fixture in the library, was unusually absent that afternoon, and Galan had taken a quiet, mental note of the absence.
Galan began in the far corner of the room and dug into his search. His fingers brushed the spines of every book while he focused.
The library smelled stuffy, he would much prefer being in open air, but he needed to focus and focus he did. Thankfully he wasn’t completely unread, and he knew which books might have what he needed - even if he did loathe reading them.
Unfortunately, the books that had what he needed were so few and spread that it would take all day to comb through the bookshelves to find them. Galan frowned, took a breath in and focused. Galan begrudgingly accepted that he might not get to spar with Raylen like he had every day. Yet, if it meant finding some ground to start working on protecting the kingdom he would inherit, then it was worth it.
“Your highness, I did not expect to see you in here.” It was the voice of Siun, the head scholar and royal tutor, that pulled him from his focus. “You just missed prince Tuon only moments ago.”
Galan’s lip twitched upward, “ah, I was wondering where the library’s statue - formerly known as my brother - had disappeared to. I thought for sure the castle had to have been on fire.”
Siun’s face was emotionless. “You should not insult your brother for his desire for knowledge.”
Galan met his gaze levelly, “I do not insult him for his knowledge,” he shrugged and then qualified: “I insult him for using the library as a child would a mother’s skirt rather than a shield.” He utilized the language Siun had even used to teach him originally, he remembered the quote word for word:
”Knowledge cannot be your blade, but it can be your shield. Use it to protect you, and you will seldom be hit.”
Siun tilted his head down, yielding to the statement, “I am glad you have not forgotten your lessons, my prince.”
Galan nodded, and the tension between the two men seemed to dissipate. “Perhaps you can help me, as I’m not familiar with where everything is. I’m looking for a book pertaining to the gods. The one that went into their positions. I also was hoping you might have that book on the Death Keepers around here somewhere.”
Siun reached around him and tugged the spine of a book forward from beside Galan. “The book on death keepers is right here… oddly, the book on the gods is missing. How unusual.” His voice was flat when he spoke. Siun turned and meandered over to the table with books and scrolls on it, his fingers passing briefly over each one as he looked for the missing book.
Galan pulled the book on death keepers out and thumbed through it idly while Siun moved from table to table with his seemingly all-knowing eyes. He vaguely remembered his lesson on the death keepers; they were a very rare occurrence - a mortal of two or more supernatural backgrounds born with the powers of death; a hybrid. They were almost always merciless and enjoyed playing with mortals and causing destruction. Their lives were short and during the time of their lives they were meant to ferry the dead to their place of resting. Power often consumed them before they got too comfortable, though.
Siun stopped walking when his fingers brushed over a book on the table. “Here it is.” His brow furrowed, “funny, I didn’t think Tuon was studying the gods. I thought he had moved on to the second age war.”
He picked the book up and walked back over to Galan, handing it to him.
Galan shrugged at the information, “the fool used to pretend he was magically gifted when he was a kid; he’s probably just fulfilling some sad fantasy.” Galan chuckled.
Siun didn’t seem convinced, but he let it drop. “May I inquire the reason your highness seeks such knowledge?”
Galan pursed his lips while examining the books in his hands, “my father has informed me of some troubling occurrences that have started up in the kingdom that has him worried.”
Siun nodded, “you will probably want the book of prophecies then.” He turned and walked across the library to a shelf where he grabbed the book off the shelf - knowing exactly where it was.
“Prophecy book? What good would that do?” Galan had started flipping through the book on death keepers more thoroughly.
Siun opened the book of prophecies and jumped back farther in it, carefully examining each page that he passed as he searched for what he wanted. “It is not the Book of Fate.” Siun noted as he walked slowly, “it is not as clear or detailed, but it is seldom wrong. Ah-!” His finger landed starkly on a passage. “It says,
‘for in this age the sky will fall, order will right a vicious wrong, and out of the ashes, one will rise.’”
Galan’s brow furrowed, “I hate riddles.” He muttered.
Siun laughed dryly, “it’s not as bad as some of the others.”
Galan shook his head and sighed, “I have a theory, if you’ll indulge me. I know I’m not as well read as Tuon, but hear me out.”
Siun looked at him with interest.
“I believe there’s a death keeper here - potentially unborn.”
Siun’s eyes filled with skepticism as well as intrigue. “Surely you have reasoning behind this? I did not teach you to make guesses without truths behind it.”
Galan was unmoved, “we’ve all been told about the ‘divine’ explosion during my grandfather’s rule. We all know the race to the temples that followed, yet nothing changed.” Galan paused thoughtfully. “If this were the work of a god, don’t you think the other gods would do something - would… react?”
Siun absorbed the information, “not if it were Agonin or Quismat who were angry about something.”
Galan shook his head, “it wouldn’t make sense. A god blowing up his own temple, sure. A god blowing up a temple of his enemy, fine. But a god blowing up a temple of two gods who sit neutral to each other?”
Siun nodded, “it would start a holy war.”
“Exactly. I’m not sure about you, elder, but I see no holy war.” Galan held up his hand as he spoke. “I think this magic that’s fallen over the land is that of a petulant child compared to that of the magic of gods. And what are Death Keepers but a grain of sand compared to the boulder that is the gods.”
“You think the gods would not act in response to the rise of a new death keeper?”
Galan pursed his lips, “it’s the only explanation I can think of.”
Siun nodded, “I concede that you have a point, however you should remember, just because you cannot think of another answer, does not mean what you have
is the answer.” He bowed to him, “I will leave you to your studies, your highness.”
Galan watched Siun leave and took to his studies.
-------------------------------------------
It was getting dark when Tuon snuck into the castle and up the stairs quietly. His eyes scanned the rooms carefully before he would dart around any corners, hoping to avoid being spotted and reamed out for missing dinner and thus asking where he’s been. If he made it back to his room he could then just claim he lost track of time in the library as he usually did. No one would be any wiser.
His bedroom door was in sight, he could practically taste the relief from not being caught when a voice sent waves of fear rushing through him.
“Hello there, little brother.” Galan’s voice was cold and amused - as though he were toying with him. “You missed dinner with mother, where have you been?”
Tuon straightened and shifted uncomfortably. “I was just in the library, as usual.” He shrugged innocently, “I guess I just lost track of time.”
Galan looked at him skeptically, “you were in the library? Funny, I was in the library all afternoon into the evening and Siun and I did not see you.” His voice was cold and calculated.
Tuon had been caught in a lie and he could feel his throat tightening.
“Not to mention, I don’t think you need a riding cloak to go all the way across the hallway from your room.” Galan was just toying with him at this point.
Tuon shifted uneasily before his eyes narrowed to a fine slit, “I traveled out to study. Though it’s none of your business, brother. It’ll take more than brute strength to fix the problems our kingdom has, surely you’d know that.”
Galan’s face fell as he sensed a strong change had occurred in his younger brother. Galan glared at him and stepped closer to him, invading his personal space, “lying to the crown prince and then implying insult, are we - brother?!” He spat the name now.
Tuon glared right back and a strangely hollow smile pulled at his cheeks. “Forgive me, I forgot that you were slower than the rest of us here. Should I talk slower for you? Or perhaps maybe I shouldn’t use such big words?”
Galan shoved Tuon forcefully, “are you insulting the crown prince? That’s an offense punishable by death, little brother.”
Tuon bounced back and got right back in his brother’s face, “you
would want to kill me. Get rid of any decent competition for the throne, right?”
Finreth walked up the stairs while supporting his mother when they heard the fighting from the hallway. His mother gave him a look of worry as they came into view of a shoving match that had broken out between Tuon and Galan.
“Boys!” Queen Araiel tried to shout, but as she moved to step forward and intervene she felt a wave of coughing come over her.
Finreth sprang into action and threw himself at Tuon, going for the weaker of his brothers as he knew he could hold him off better. “HEY!” He shouted. He shoved Tuon back against the wall behind them and held his arm out to stop Galan from crossing over to him. They shouted insults and curse words across the distance at each other. “HEY!” Finreth shouted again. “COOL IT!”
Tuon and Galan stopped fighting and stared at him, Finreth’s voice sank to just above a harsh whisper. “Our. Mother. Is. Right. There.” He emphasized every word as he turned and looked at each of them. Finreth released Tuon from the wall and clenched his fists, he turned onto Galan. “The crown prince should not anger so easily, you pig-headed brute!” He turned fully onto Tuon at this point, “and YOU, what in all the GODS names has told you that insulting the man who is soon to be your king is a good idea?! You’re both acting like children!”
“Who are you calling pig-headed?!” Galan snapped.
“I am NOT a child! I can’t go anywhere without getting a cross-examination from this lout!” Tuon pointed across at Galan.
“Oh please, like you haven’t been up to something lately!”
Finreth looked at Tuon harder and his brow furrowed, “where have you been… and why are you wearing a riding cloak?”
Galan looked smug, but Tuon’s face grew exasperated, “ME?! I’ve been attacked by Galan and you’re questioning me about where I’ve been?!”
Araiel watched her boys fight but could feel the disease spreading inside of her, sucking the life from her. “Boys…” Her voice was too weak for them to hear. She felt her knees grow weak, and then she collapsed.
