Danais woke up the next day not sure if the previous one had been a dream—especially the ending moments of the night. Could a Kentai really have spoken to a peasant boy? It had to have been a dream. He was thankful there was no rain after he slept, meaning a dry floor as his feet hit the stone ground. After fully convincing himself that last night was a dream, he went to look out the window, where he saw, in profile, Kale leaning against the side of the window and staring out onto the farm.
“You are awake, young one.”
“So it wasn’t a dream.”
“Yes. Forgive my ignorance, but I’m not sure how to treat you.”
“Just go with your instincts.” That was the last he said before flying out into the morning sky. The sun was still making its slow climb over the hills and trees. Danais assumed he was going hunting for whatever it is Kentais eat. As he was getting a cold wash, his mind pondered on all the questions he wanted to ask. The problem was that he couldn’t think about the questions without thinking about Kale’s reaction to his wanting immediate answers.
Being young was clearly a disadvantage. No matter how smart or adept, he lacked the certain life experiences that came with age. There was something going on. Would his impatience and direct need for information change the sequence of things? Would too much patience lead to missing something important? Too many thoughts; his mind couldn’t seem to latch onto one, and all he could do was scream. This new life, whatever it was, was going to require a certain amount of insight and intuition he was not accustomed to.
After getting dressed, Danais looked in the mirror and sighed, thinking how much he looked like a peasant. Then he went to the kitchen. He grabbed an apple, bottle of milk and fresh cookies. His cousin must’ve made them before heading back to her army post. These cookies even had chocolate chunks.
“Uncle,” he managed to say through a mouth full of milk and cookies.
“Don’t talk too fast. I would hate for you to lose a chocolate chunk. How was your walk?”
“It was more enlightening than normal.”
“Really,” Torak said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. I’m going to have to lose my ‘I’m a man’ rebuttal when people annoy me.”
“My, my. Now that is enlightenment. I’ve been trying to win that argument for almost two years. And in one night you realise what it takes to become a man. I’m in awe.”
“I’m a fast learner,” Danais said with a shoulder shrug, and working on his fourth cookie. All Torak could do was smile. Danais, while stuffing himself with sweets, was coming to a new realisation. He needed to curb this sweet habit. If he were in a torture chamber, one piece of expensive cake would get him to tell all his secrets. But the cookies were so amazing—why not eat the seventh one? They were all for him anyway.
“You should be more careful,” Torak said. Suddenly Danais was panicking. If there were something special about him, could he now be endangered? The cookies could be poisoned or worse. They could be magicked somehow. And he was swallowing his seventh. His cousin may not have even made them. But his uncle was letting him eat them. Could it be that he was meant to die? He wondered if someone thought that his death was essential and that’s why he was being encouraged to eat the poisoned cookies. How could he be so careless?
“You’ve created a mess.”
“Huh?”
“On the floor. Crumbs. We are on farmland; no need to create more insects than we need.”
Danais let out a sigh of relief. He still thought it careless to eat the cookie. But now that he was safe why not have just one more? “You okay?”
Danais told him his whole thought process right up to the part about Torak goading him to his death.
“You are right. As it is, I know who made them for you. It wasn’t entirely undue panic.” Torak smiled and took a swig of ale. Danais slumped into his chair and grabbed another cookie.
“How can I be able to handle such things? I know nothing of war or the world like older men and women. I’m more worried about doing myself harm than others doing so.”
“You can only learn these things through time, and I’m sorry to say I don’t know how much you have.”
“Time I have till what?”
“I cannot say. But you’ll have to trust instincts and just be yourself.”
“Be myself?”
“Yes. Whatever is happening is because of who you already are. It is that which will make you into what you will become. If you lose yourself in what you will become, you will change who you are now, and that person is the most important.”
“That’s profound.” At that moment Kale returned. Danais handed him a cookie before he jumped up on the table, never considering the strangeness of the situation, and absentmindedly started to stroke him.
“I’ve always considered legends, predictions, fairytales and such from the other angle. They are chosen because of who they will be. But they have to start somewhere. If they change who they are in order to become something, then, in theory, they can’t become who they were to be. If you go to a seer and change the present to suit the future, when you go back to that seer, the future is changed because you didn’t stay on course.”
“Ah. I see.”
“So profound in the sense that you are right. It does have to do more with the present you than the future you. That must make it harder on people who do know. They’re more inclined to be tempted to change things instead of accepting it will happen in its own time.”
“Now that is profound. So where does that place you?”
“Me? I panicked over a cookie.” The two of them laughed together, and Danais ate yet another cookie. “Clearly I’d get things all muddled up if I knew before my time,” he said and gave Kale another cookie.
“You have a new friend?”
Finally, after being prompted, Danais realised the strangeness of the situation: a Kentai shows up, jumps on the table and lets him pet him—even willingly takes food from him. This was not everyday action.
“Uncle this is Kale. Kale, Uncle.” Torak gave a head bow to Kale, and he did the same. As the two nodded, Danais felt something new, something he would never have dreamed to do in his lifetime: mindspeak.
“He says his first words to you will be in the market.”
“I shall look forward to it. Well, we should be going. We don’t want to miss the fresh pastries at Garnter’s. But seeing as you’ve had a whole tray of cookies—”, Torak said with a bit of a smirk.
“No, we can still go.”
“Are you sure? That was a lot of cookies.”
“Cookies? I don’t see any cookies.”
“Indeed. I hope the woman of your dreams can bake. If so, you’ll be putty in their hands.”
“Everyone has their weaknesses. You coming, Kale?” Danais didn’t want to presume Kale would just tag along. Kale left ahead of them, which drew a sigh from Danais. He did want to walk with him, but it wasn’t meant to be. As the two of them walked a little ways lower in the mountain, Danais thought about his mother. He knew very little about her and even less about his father. Maybe this new him that he was becoming might shed some light on his parentage.
Garnter gave them the royal treatment. Since his uncle was so ordinary, Danais sometimes forgot he had status and the money to go along with it.
“I must say I’m impressed by the Kentai. That is a surprise even to me.”
“To me as well. I think he may have changed the way I think. Just like the cookie. I’ve always been a mindless rambler, but my panic seemed a little bit more structured than my usual over-thinking. Not that the structure matters; panic is panic.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I would hate for your over-thinking to just go away. Making sense of your rambles will be missed if you start making sense of them on your own. But I guess you had to grow up at some point.”
Danais frowned, yet somehow managed a laugh. His uncle had a way of finding the humour in a sentence, no matter how dull it might be.
“So, wine? I know how much you love to drink.”
“No. I’ll have something boring and unfermented.”
“So strangers can get a show but not I.”
Danais laughed again. “I really wanted to talk with Kale more, even though he makes me feel small. Like Leo.”
“Leo?”
“The peach cider, uncle.”
“This is the first I’ve heard his name. I know only of Barton, and that is because he brought you home.”
“Fair enough. Well, he’s tall, taller than the tallest mountain person. Rainy blue eyes, white hair with fire red highlights, perfectly golden skin. Toned-down build of the Keldonians, but the look of a Mironian.”
“Mixed race.”
“Yes. He seems so accepting of what he knows and what he doesn’t. If he were my age and in my situation, he’d probably handle it much better. I just get this sense like he’s so much bigger than me, even after the one lunch. Much like Kale. It’s something about the patience and the cool of their speech that reminds me I am a child.”
“And this bothers you.”
“Only with the magician.”
“Why?”
“It’s his fault the war started. Why should I be silent and ungifted, and he so much more self- assured and gifted? It’s not right. I’m an Atorathian. I should be better.”
“You know I raised you better than to be that self-righteous. No race is better than the other. If anything, we Atorathians should be trying to keep the equality. So many of us have forgotten the point of the War of Beginning. And Atorathians especially should not forget.”
Danais knew his uncle was right. But even as a peasant, he still couldn’t help thinking that Atorathians were superior to Magicians.
“Uncle, can I make a confession?”
“Speak.”
“I am a peasant. I can’t see the world through your eyes. I’m not equal. Even peasants from other provinces look down on me because I’m an Atorathian peasant. How then can I not see my race as better when my whole life is riddled with inadequacy? The need for more. To be more. I cannot see something I have not experienced. I am not the same, but by believing that my race as a whole is better, it gives me something to hold on to. A sense of pride and worth that belongs to more than just me. I need to believe what I believe, even if I know it’s wrong. Maybe one day I’ll change.”
Danais was glad his uncle didn’t have much to say. Even though he knew he should change, he couldn’t. It made him feel like an insolent child when he was so stubborn. Why was it so hard for him to let go of all his anger towards his lot in life?
“Don’t we have some clothes to buy?”
“Yes. The tailor already has your measurements and slaved away all night at my request. And the glass-blower said he’d have your gift ready today as well.”
“He gave me a few moon cycles to pay him,” Danais said in quick defence.
Torak just chuckled. “You don’t have to lie to me. Let’s go by the tailor’s to see if we have to make any adjustments. Then we’ll have lunch.”
Danais was glad to be with his uncle. He actually felt, for just one moment, he had a father, as if they were father and son on the way to make a purchase together. No one was trying to attack him, and he could enjoy himself without his mind being preoccupied with looking over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of windows with blinds, and made a mental note to ask his uncle to fix his or give him a window he could actually open and close instead of just a hole in the wall. He looked at hair shops. Both men and women took to partially colouring their hair to suit their personalities. Of course, these shops were for basic cutting as well. Then finally, Danais and Torak reached their destination.
“Torak! So nice to see you. I am almost finished, as you well know. Well, hurry in.”
And with that, the tailor walked to the back of the shop and directed them to where to stand. When he came back out with the clothes, he wasn’t looking too impressed.
“And why are you still in your undergarments?”
“I wasn’t informed to remove them,” Danais said, glancing toward his uncle. He had a feeling this man might shout at him, so he shifted the blame to someone else. He did his best not to laugh as his uncle received the wrath of the tailor, and he ignored the evil stare that his uncle gave him.
“Here you are. Nice stretchy material. It’ll hide your manhood should you be aroused by one of the many women at this event. It’s expensive, but I’ve noticed even the peasants don’t consider it a waste of money. Especially women. It helps give them breast support. Comes in handy when spending so much time bending and lifting on the fields.”
“Can it breathe if it’s this—well, tight?”
“How does it feel? Breathes almost as good as Mironian cotton.” “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never worn the best cotton in the world before.”
“Well, you are now. Put these pants on. Mironian cotton breathes like Dani silk. But it is sturdier in a strong wind.”
“It’s blue,” Danais commented.
“Sky blue. Goes well with your skin tone. Your measurements are proving to be quite accurate. Won’t have to adjust the pants too much. The shirt is the same tan as your original pants. But for this I have options. Would you like silk or more cotton?”
“Cotton.” Danais didn’t hesitate. He reasoned it was the start of spring so something just a little heavy would shield the cool breezes, but it was still light enough on the chance the air was warmer than he expected.
“Your nephew has expensive taste.”
“Two options. I should pay you this much more often,” Torak said mostly in jest.
“Yes, you should.”
Danais found this funny because even though it was a joke, it was clearly stated as an obvious fact.
“Would you like me to make the shirt more fitted to accentuate your build?” the tailor asked Danais.
“Is that okay?”
“It’s no different than what women with curves do to display them—and what women with minimal curves do to exaggerate their lack thereof.”
Danais nodded in agreement. Danais gave a glance at his uncle, and Torak knew what he must do. The tailor was too busy to catch this exchange.
“Might I go out the back for a moment?”
“Steal anything, and I’ll pull out your spleen.”
“Well, at least you’ll leave me my heart.” Danais chuckled, and the tailor just grunted. Torak went out to the storeroom, and seconds later the Kentai materialised. Apparating was one of their many talents.
“There will be a meeting during the celebration tomorrow.”
“Danais?”
“Do not worry about the young one. Someone will be protecting him.”
“Do you know who will be there?”
“No, I do not.”
“Thank you. Prince.”
“You know who I am?”
“I do, Prince Kale. And I pay my respects. So am I able to continue speech with you, or is this message to be my last?”
“I will continue to talk with you, both by choice and necessity. I feel I have to talk with you, but would gladly do it even if I didn’t feel the necessity of it. The boy is dressed. You should go.”
Torak did as told, and went to retrieve his nephew. After picking up some boots and books, Torak took Danais to lunch. Danais ate more than his share. Because this was his second quality meal for the week, he saw no harm in overindulging himself. This lunch even came with an interactive play that went during the meal. If it was possible to best the previous day’s lunch, Danais was sure this had done it.
“Hurry. Thank the tailor and let’s be off. You want to see the city while the last of the sun shines.”
Danais could barely contain his excitement. He’d never been on a boat before, never been to the city—and was now going to do both in the same day. He could only imagine being able to touch the endless sea of yellow stone buildings, to walk on golden-dust streets. Leanor, the city of gold, was finally going to be within his reach. As he took his first steps on the wooden pier and heard the water gushing underneath him, fascination turned into fear.
He couldn’t move, and his mind started racing in another direction. Boats were made of wood. What if something happened? He couldn’t willingly walk into unknown danger. This was insane. One misplaced fire spark—no more ship and he’d drown. But then again, he couldn’t swim. Maybe he’d burn to death if he was lucky, and not have to worry about drowning. But what if the ship crashed into a reef? Then he would have to wait for it to slowly sink, and he would inevitably sink with it. This boat thing was a really bad idea. There had to be another way.
Danais was vaguely aware that his face was mirroring his terror, and people looking on could see it. Some were even smiling silently to themselves. But his sudden fear of boats and the ocean was fully justifiable, or so he thought. Nothing was going to make him move from his spot.
“Come on,” his uncle said, holding his hand and tugging him forward. Was this man insane? Clearly, he can see how nothing but doom could come out of this, Danais thought. ‘What was wrong with him?’ Somehow his overthinking distracted him enough for his uncle to guide him halfway down the pier, and then out on one of the extensions to the boat. Once aboard, he immediately fixed his back to the first wall he could find. Torak made sure all the items were secure and came back to find Danais in the same spot he left him in. It was a long journey ahead, and Danais couldn’t move. After so many years of wanting to be on the water, he was about to miss every moment of it.
“Are you okay?”
“Terrified.”
“Then you should go indoors.”
“That would require moving.” Yet again, somehow Danais had been moved by his uncle and was leaning over the side of the ship— on his own. All he could think was how did he get there and why was his head so fuzzy.
“So are you feeling better? Not projectiling over the edge of the ship anymore.”
“No uncle. Feeling much better.”
“Good, ’cause we are preparing to dock.”
“Already?” Danais was genuinely disappointed.
“You spent the whole voyage spewing into the ocean.” Danais couldn’t believe this. He went from fear of boats to motion sickness, and now that he was breathing normally, the dock was well within view. There was not enough time left to conquer his fear of water. He couldn’t remember a second of the journey.
“So am I going to have to walk you to dry land?”
“The water is far enough below,” Danais sighed as he got his things. How was he going to learn to swim with such a fear of drowning? Once off the boat, his uncle hired one of the workers to cart their belongings to the inn.
The closer Danais got to the city of gold, the more awestricken he became. The godly glow was such that his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could see clearly. The slow walk through the town took them past Leanor’s temple. To be standing directly in front of it and not staring out over the lake! Danais was dumbfounded. He managed to take in the expense of the door, get a glimpse of the inside courtyard and say a quick prayer before his uncle shouted back to get his attention. He ran up beside his uncle, and they continued to walk to the inn.
Danais had never seen a building with more than two levels, other than in the Burrow, and now he was entering one with four. The walls were made of yellow stone but the columns, because of the craftsmanship and magic of the builders, were a mix of white stone and wood. It gave the walls another colour to reflect. The Atorathian stone was very reflective. This was probably why the glow was so tolerable.
“Are we—”
“No. We are on ground level. There will be no climbing of stairs.” Danais marvelled at his uncle’s perceptiveness but not for too long—not after entering the room. His eyes were drawn to the light fixtures: oil lamps with sheer patterned lampshades. There were also cream-colored, soft-cushioned furnishings and plush rugs, and a bed that would take up his entire room on the farm. If the gods weren’t smiling on him before, they certainly were now.
“I’ll come for you after sundown. We will head to the seer in the dark of night. No lamps. It takes only a little light to reflect here, and we do not want to be seen—not of our own means at least.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Danais was so overwhelmed, and he didn’t realise how tired he was. However, when he awoke, he somehow knew the sun had been down for hours. He hurried out, knowing his uncle would be waiting in the next room, but as he left the bedroom, he found his uncle already there, sitting on the couch with a visitor. The two stood upon hearing him enter, and one of them walked over towards Danais.
“So nice to see you again.”
“And you, Lord Vardon,” Danais said with a bow.
“I am here to do but one thing. Give me your hand.” Danais did as told, and then he heard something he’d never heard up-close before: the word “weave.” It was the language serious spells were spoken in, and it was smooth, intoxicating, just above a whisper at the perfect rhythm. It was spoken in the natural tongue, but so layered one could not tell. Then he panicked again. This could be it. This could be the spell to take his life. How could he have let his guard down again? Before he had time to really panic, it was over. He looked to his left and nearly jumped out of his skin at what he saw.
“It’s me.”
“And a very good one. This would fool even the best magicians. Nice work,” Torak said, and he patted his friend on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Torak. He can’t talk much, though. Only so much you can do with a few minutes. This next spell was harder, but I did what I could with the time. This sheet is now an invisibility cloak. It will work for you and only you. It’s more of a reflective spell than a full invisibility cloak, so it blends you in with the surroundings, as opposed to making you completely see-through, like a real one would. So shadows can show. You’ll have to be a little careful if full light hits you, but most people won’t notice a shadow if they can’t see what’s casting it. You’ll get more than enough time out of it for the night before the spell wears off. Good night, Danais.” That was the last Lord Vardon said to him before leaving.
Danais put on the sheet, and they made the tedious journey to the seer’s residence. Following his uncle was interesting. He sometimes forgot his uncle was a full Atorathian. In his younger years, he’d trained in Mironi; they were known as assassins, more so than Atorathians were, and as builders. Watching the way his uncle guided them through the night, he doubted they would be seen, cloak or not.
“This is it.” Torak rapped the knocker three times. Moments later the door opened. Another surprise awaited Danais inside the stone walls. Instead of the expected massive villa that would be behind such a wall, there was a medium-sized house of grey stone at the end of a traditional courtyard. The courtyard garden was of the size Danais would assume, but not in such an unassuming residence. It was small in comparison to what he thought someone of her stature would live in. Inside, he was again pleasantly surprised.
“Black wood.” The exclamation escaped him. The black trees gave some of the most expensive wood. Of their magical qualities was a resistance to all of nature’s elements, and the black trees were very hard to kill without uprooting them. The wood reflected whatever light shone on it and it had a red tinge. Incense burned with a red smoke in the room.
“I see you like it,” a voice spoke. Danais turned to see a woman entering the room. She had the curvature of the sea people, by far the most voluptuous of Salinor’s people: solid people, both men and women, with a purplish tint to their skin.
“You’re from—?”
“Danais. Yes.”
“The only province to be named directly after a God, and one that associates with the ocean. Like the God it’s named after. Your uncle has taught you your history.”
“Some, seer.”
“It wasn’t a question. I have waited long years to lay my eyes upon you. Come out of the entrance way and into my living space. Dine with me.”
Set on the small table by the couch was lobster for Danais. Some of the best seafood in Salinor came from the sea province, naturally. “The vegetables and spices are from our valleys. Not nearly as good as your uncle’s or those in Keldon, but they are passable.”
“How’d you know I’d be hungry?”
“I was informed you slept for hours after arriving.”
“Okay. I didn’t think you’d waste your talent to feed me.”
“I see you didn’t start with the legs.” How could he have forgotten this? Unless a Dani, it was always best to eat the legs first. The Dani people had a natural resistance to its poison. The blue lobster was notorious for making people ill and even killing them if not eaten in the correct order. Danais was finding so many things to panic over lately; he was beginning to wonder if he was going to survive.
“Don’t worry. You’ll live.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t get ill.”
“A smart one, I see. You won’t get ill either.” The implications, Danais thought, were endless—not because there were a lot of options but because of what the few options said about him. Still, the only conclusions he could come to, though few, were still too big for him to tackle at the moment.
The seer had a servant take the food away, and she poured them some tea, an orange tea that had a mist at the top of the glass. The smell was much sweeter than that of the incense. Danais would not have thought that possible.
“Lira berry. Grows through all of Salinor, but the best for burning is in the Atorathian mountains,” the seer said of the incense.
“Our mountains?”
“Yes. Most of the best herbs and plants do grow in Keldon, but not all. Do you know why their mountains are the most special? Besides the stone.”
“No, seer.”
“It is because out of all the realms, their secrets are the hardest to penetrate. No magician has been able to penetrate the secrets of the halls of their mountains. Even dwarves have had a hard time with it. The dwarves have long been friends with the Keldonians.”
“I thought they were like the elves. I heard they fled from the race of men.”
“Yes. But even still, they have a love for humans that can’t be entirely destroyed even if they find us self-destructive. The orange berry that made the tea, Tele, is native to Mironi. However, when grown in Keldon, it has special magic qualities. It is more calming, a relaxer of the mind and an enabler.”
“Enabler?”
“Yes. Whether you are extremely or even mildly injured, the aroma alone will significantly help healing. However, if the sickness or wound has been partially healed by magic, it acts as an enabler to enhance the spell. Sadly, if the wounds are too great, there will be permanent damage.”
“That must mean that without the berry, in some cases, it must be extremely hard to heal some wounds.”
“Yes. However, all the relaxing and stimulating properties are always there. Just like with most magical herbs. There are things they do, and things they can be used to do.” The seer paused, then looked directly at Danais. “Today is not a normal prediction. I will not be telling you what I see. I will tell only your uncle.”
“Why? I came all the way over here for nothing. I came to you by stealth and risked death by sea, only to be told that I’ll still learn nothing of who I am? Why can I not know!” The two of them merely stared at Danais. Neither making any hint to comment or show signs of anger. Danais grunted. He was going to have to get his outbursts under control. It would’ve been so much better if they just shouted back at him. Obviously, he thought, there was a bigger picture, but yet again he was letting his personal needs cloud the issue. He was meant to figure this out, and wild outbursts wouldn’t help him any. This tea was affecting him, he decided. He was suddenly starting to feel overwhelmingly calm.
“There are some things you can know and some that will be revealed in time. The things I will find out today you cannot know. I’m not sure what it will be, but I am sure of that. Give me your hand.” Danais immediately put forth his right hand even though he was left-handed.
“Interesting,” she said, as he rested it palm up in her right hand. She placed her left-hand palm down on his, sandwiching Danais’ hand. At first, there was nothing; then suddenly his breathing became heavy. Wind seemed to be rising as if they were outside. Then there was darkness. There came the sound of thunder, and then a crack of lightning illuminated the room, followed by another. The room had gone from an enchanting red mist to heavy red clouds. The red storm clouds reflected so well on the black floors and walls that it seemed he was floating in the windy centre of a thunder cloud. The mix of total darkness, wind and sudden bursts of lightning overhead was maddening. Danais’ heart was pounding at a pace that it seemed ready to burst inside or shoot right out of him.
The seer’s orange locks were flying wildly in the wind. Her eyes were black pools of emptiness. Her body was streaming within an intricate vein work of electricity. It was scary, frightening, intriguing— so many things. There was too much for Danais to understand. Was this storm natural? Is this how all readings were? Was he supposed to be terrified? He was terrified.
Something was taking hold of him. He was reaching the breaking point and finally exploded with a scream of sheer terror. The room went dark again. Danais wasn’t entirely sure whether this was a good thing or not. The wind died, and things returned to normal. Danais found he was gasping for air. Tears were falling down his face. Lela, the seer, did not let him go until his breathing returned to normal. Danais found that quite comforting.
“Lela—”
“I shall tell you when we next meet, Torak.”
“Surely you must—” the wind suddenly rose again.
“Enough!” she said so firmly in her regular voice that, to Danais, it held the power of generations of kings and queens. Then the wind was gone.
“Drink both of you,” she demanded while still looking at Torak. Danais did as told, and so did his uncle. Danais knew she was feared but also knew that she was well respected. Until now he was having serious trouble understanding why people would fear her. She seemed so kind. Clearly, there was more to her if his uncle didn’t even dare question her.
“So how are the four children of yours?” she asked, and like that she’d become pleasant again. Danais was feeling he liked her more and more. Especially her hair. He’d never seen anyone with hair so neat yet so tightly knitted together. Locks, they were called. He wondered if his straight hair could adapt to the style.
“They do as kids do. My youngest is about to get married.”
“He only just left the farm,” the seer responded as if he couldn’t have possibly fallen in love that fast.
“I know. Says he fell for one of his Mironian trainers.”
“Ah, so he went to Mironi for his training instead of staying with the armies in Atorath.”
“He’s more interested in becoming an assassin. He says the Mironians are the best at the intricacies of killing.”
“I see. So you approve then?”
“Yes. He was almost to wed a peasant Mironian. Thankfully, he lost that trash.”
Danais was shocked to hear his uncle talk like this. This was uncharacteristically racist. Was his uncle only pretending to like peasants all these years? The seer didn’t seem to be moved. In fact, she looked amused.
“Now now, your own nephew is silent. Surely you can’t mean that.”
“Ungifted Atorathians are the lowest of peasants,” Danais mumbled. Torak smiled.
“All right. I only meant she was dimwitted. Even the ungifted in Salinor can at least acquire some level of intelligence. And you shouldn’t be feeding his temper. You knew I was only jesting.”
“Point taken. And you shouldn’t attempt to order information out of me.”
“Bah. A minor lapse in judgment. And this is more than tea.”
“I like a drink; it makes my inner eye see better.”
“That would explain why only one glass before the storm.”
“Bah. That was a mere breeze.”
“Sure,” Danais said, taking a sip of tea. “And the storm clouds were just puffs of fog. Maybe the lightning was even a trick of the eyes. The thunder was only the growling of my stomach, right?”
Torak laughed, and the seer smiled. Danais was happy the seer forced the mood to change.
“Seer, would you show me how to press the Tele bean?”
“Why?”
“I want to learn from you. And more importantly, I just feel that I’m going to need to know.”
“I think you are right. Something just came to me. I will show you by the end of summer.”
Torak was already outside when the seer spoke again. “Let your instincts guide you, and the answers will find you. Let them find you.” The seer took a purple ring fused with the purple stone of the Danais province and silver and then gave it to Danais. It fit perfectly on the fourth finger of his right hand.
“I had this made for you.”
“You knew I would live?”
“I knew you would be born, and I knew what could happen if you survived to this day. But no, I was unsure if you would make it. Things can change. You could drown or burn in a building. The smallest accidents or change can alter the future. What I did see is you wearing this ring. But I haven’t had any glimpses of this future since that one. So I’ve been praying to the gods that it held true. And here you stand,; here is my gift to you.”
“Thank you. I wish there was something I—well, you already told me what I can do for you.”
“Yes. I have.”
“I will try.”
“Try is not an option.” Danais could hear more there. It wasn’t a command; it seemed more desperate. As if she wished he did have the option to merely try but knew it was not so. Danais left with that thought and still was unsure if he could just do, instead of try. He reasoned that this was one thing he could not question and would force himself to do the best he could, even if that amounted to be very little.
“Was the storm natural?” Danais asked once they were seated in his room back at the inn.
“No. A reaction like that means things are dangerous or complicated or both.”
“She seemed to be made of lightning. It was like she was there but I could see right through her.”
“She has the power of the elements.”
“She’s an elementor?” Danais was shocked. Out of all of the rare gifts of the people of Salinor, this was one he never dreamed he’d encounter.
“Yes. And a great seer and sorceress. Sometimes what she sees manifests itself in her own abilities. A show of such magnitude,” his uncle sighed. “Maybe all the years of planning and waiting—”
His uncle looked into the distance, clearly distraught, and then he continued. “I just hope it’s not disastrous. Do you care to tell me what she told you? I understand if you don’t. I have many secrets I must keep from you. I am willing to let you keep yours.”
“She said to let the answers find me. It sounded more like a plea than a demand. It was said with too much yearning and feeling.”
Danais didn’t really want to talk about it. He wanted to keep his opinions his, and Torak seemed to be thinking the same as he nodded and didn’t prod further. Torak left him in the room to sleep, and Danais thought about the many unanswered questions hidden in the words of the seer this night; how he didn’t get sick from the lobster. Why she implored him to do his best not to look so hard for answers. And how his mentioning the pressing of the berries had given her an instant vision. Something important would’ve gone by unchecked had he not followed his instincts and asked. And then after doing so, she enforced his doing it by telling him to continue. He couldn’t make sense of anything, though he could clearly see they were connected. How could he see the connection yet still have no answers? He closed his eyes and tried to stop over-thinking. It wouldn’t do to stay awake all night and be too tired to perform his best at the ceremony. Maybe answers would come to him as he slept and visit him in his dreams.
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