OoOoO

A fly buzzed lazily through a sunbeam where it fell across the pages of Jatheryn's book. The little insect continued its circuit around the study, seeming almost curious. Finally, it settled on one of the oaken wall panels and became lost in the dark patterns of stained wood. Rubbing its little hands together gleefully, the fly paid no mind to the higher intellectual pursuits of the study's other three occupants.

Jatheryn and Awenis sat at a long table side by side, their handwritten notes and heavy texts starting to spread and merge together in the middle. The pages bearing Awenis's handwriting were an endless stream of graceful, looping swirls and lines. Jatheryn's notes stood as regimented as soldiers on the page, each letter perfectly at attention and meticulously dotted or crossed. Both sat with their quills hanging in midair beneath their chins, listening intently to their tutor.

"It is a common misconception among the common folk that the Amenthis Three were biological siblings," Mistress Morendial was saying, her half-moon glasses resting precariously on the end of her nose. "First King Amenthis, Lady Aryna, and Lord Anders were in fact completely unrelated. In his youth, Amenthis was a wanderer with a taste for adventure, as you well know. It was in his travels that he met both Aryna and Anders for the first time. Aryna hailed from the northern reaches of what was to become Goran; deep within the Night Forest, to be precise. Anders likewise was born on the eastern coast. Amenthis was the one who first inspired the other two to unite humankind and banish the ancient monsters of the land. Awenis, would you be so kind as to tell me how this was accomplished?"

Awenis perked up so suddenly that Jatheryn wondered if she'd been daydreaming. Thumbing the infinity ring on her index finger, she answered promptly enough to save herself from a lecture.

"They enlisted the help of the Obads, and through their magic defeated the world's demons."

Mistress Morendial frowned, but nodded. She had been giving Jatheryn and Awenis their educations since they were old enough to talk, and likely knew them better than even Jahaelis and Rosarin. The tall, silver-haired matron was knowledgeable on a range of subjects, spotting daydreaming being her primary major. For the time being she let her pupil escape with a narrow-eyed warning.

"Correct, and Jatheryn, can you tell me the significance of this partnership?"

Jatheryn sat up even straighter to answer, and became aware of his sister's slouching by comparison in her chair. Gently he pressed his foot overtop of hers beneath the table. It wasn't like Awenis to be distracted during their lessons.

"It was the beginning of the bond between the Order of Obads and the throne of Goran. The first Obads were little more than Shamans, Charmers, Wise Women, and Elders. However, the Obads were able to talk to the creatures of old, and manipulate the world around them in ways their ordinary counterparts could not. Amenthis, Aryna, and Anders convinced the Obads that the world needed to be made safe for humankind to blossom. Together with their armies, the Amenthis Three raised and the Obads, they cleared the land of danger. The next solstice Amenthis was crowned First King, and Goran was born."

Mistress Morendial's satisfaction was plain to see. Jatheryn loved his studies for many reasons, but chief among them was they provided a rare opportunity for personal success.

"Excellent. Now as you said, Amenthis was crowned First King and ruled over Goran as a whole. However, there was a need for more regional governance as well. Therefore, Aryna returned to her homeland in the north, where she became the first Sei of the North. Anders likewise withdrew to the east after the Founding Wars, taking the title of Wal of the East. Now these titles have since fallen out of use..."

As Mistress Morendial launched into a discourse on the shifting of eastern politics, Jatheryn couldn't help but notice Awenis out of the corner of his eye. Normally Awenis was just as attentive, if not more so than him when it came to their studies. Today her pale gold eyes settled on the little fly from the sunbeam and followed its journey around the room. The tiny creature settled on a brass astrolabe on a pedestal off to one side of the study, leaving Awenis's gaze well and truly off of their teacher. Jatheryn pressed on her slipper again with his shoe, trying to wake his sister back to the lesson.

"Awenis!"

Instantly, Awenis jerked upright, nearly upsetting a bottle of ink onto the lap of her lilac purple gown. Jatheryn shot out a hand lightning quick to steady the bottle, getting drops of ink on his hand instead.

"Will you kindly ke—"

Mistress Morendial was interrupted by an almighty roar from downstairs, somewhere in the mansion. Everyone stiffened, Mistress Morendial looking completely at a loss for words. Then the shout came again, just barely coherent this time.

"JATHERYN!"

All the blood instantly rushed from Jatheryn's head, to be replaced by a dull roaring sound. He couldn't imagine what he had possibly done to arouse such audible anger in his father. The last time Jahaelis had ever shouted at anyone like that was six years ago when a newly hired servant girl had mocked Rosarin's withered appearance behind what she thought were closed doors.

Eyes wide and pale pink lips hanging open in shock, Awenis turned around in her chair to look at him.

"You had better go, quickly," she whispered.

"Yes, before your father calls again," Mistress Morendial added, sounding more frazzled than Jatheryn had ever heard her. "Such dreadful shouting from a Saurivic lord, entirely impolite..."

Moving as if in a dream, Jatheryn slid back his chair across the polished floor and stood. Dimly he was aware of Awenis also rising to follow him out of the study and down the main staircase.

The servants were clustered nervously near the kitchen doors. They eyed Jatheryn and Awenis as they passed with something akin to pity. Anxiety was a palpable force in the air, making even the roses in the alcoves at the front entrance appear to wilt.

They found their father in the drawing room. Jahaelis stood with a freshly opened letter in his hand and a dark, unreadable expression on his face. Rosarin leaned against the opposite doorframe with a hand to her heart. Her gaze when it fastened on Jatheryn was oddly contorted.

"Read it."

That was all Jahaelis said as he thrust the letter toward Jatheryn. Gingerly, as if afraid the smooth white paper would bite him, Jatheryn did as he was told.

Lord Jahaelis and Lady Rosarin Saurivic,

Myself and the rest of the Farakirn family were honored to have been invited to dinner at your magnificent estate two days' past. We wish to express our honest appreciation for your hospitality, as well as our well wishes for your family's everlasting prosperity.

With regard to your proposed betrothal of your eldest son, Lord Jatheryn Saurivic, to my daughter Lady Kendris Farakirn, I fear Lady Lizeth and I must reject such an offer on her behalf.

After much discussion between the members of our family, we the Farakirns have come to the conclusion that such a marriage would not be in the best interests of the bride or the bridegroom, as well as any potential heirs they might produce. Lord Jatheryn's condition demands my consideration as a possible father to mine and Lady Lizeth's future grandchildren. We have weighed the risks, and deemed them unacceptable.

I do hope that you, as a father and mother yourselves, will understand.

Best and respectful regards,

Lord Waylon and Lady Lizeth Farakirn

His white eyes flashing from line to line, Jatheryn felt a growing sense of something heavy in his gut. Was it shame, guilt, the sting of rejection? Was it relief that he would not be marrying Kendris Farakirn after all? Was it a mixture of all of these things? Whatever it was, the feeling gathered and settled like a loadstone within him. When he reached the end of the letter it was one of the hardest things he had ever done to look his parents in the eye.

"So," Jahaelis said, accusing.

"So...the Farakirns have rejected a betrothal," Jatheryn tried to speak calmly, but it came out rather strangled instead.

"THE FARAKIRNS HAVE REJECTED A SAURIVIC!" Jahaelis exploded. He snatched back the letter so fast it tore, leaving Jatheryn with a corner caught in his grip. "Rejected an heir to the line descended straight from Amenthis himself! Commoners, masquerading as nobles, rejecting you!" Jahaelis stabbed a finger at Jatheryn like a sword. "Unacceptable, that is what they call you! What else do they call us behind our backs? Diseased, fouled, cursed?"

"Father, I-" Awenis tried to interrupt. She was almost as pale as Jatheryn after Jahaelis's tirade.

"For months now we have wheedled, flattered, and entreated, trying to find suitable betrothals for the two of you. You have no idea!"

Jahaelis was in an incredible rage now. He swung about suddenly, sweeping a porcelain dish off a side table. It fell to the rug and shattered, tiny white fragments skittering away under the nearest couch in search of refuge.

"We have pleaded with the Kilgorins, the Shakians, the Belryns, the Erendors, and now the Farakirns, and nothing!" Jahaelis rounded on Jatheryn. "You sulk at us when we try to speak to you of marriage, fume when we tell you the girl you hopelessly pine over is impossible. You think we did not try to win you Hadriel Shakian? For ages your mother and I tried to entice the Shakians into considering even just a courtship! We browbeat them with the entire noble history of the Saurivic family line! And do you know what Lord Penlor said to us?"

Jatheryn couldn't speak. He just shook his head in mute misery.

"He said 'I wouldn't entrust the jewel of my family to your ghost of a son for the entire treasury of Castle Armathain.'" Jahaelis sneered. "You might as well be a ghost. You sit in your room all day, playing melancholy music and refusing to even pretend at being a proper nobleman. How you choose to spend your wretched existence is less like living and more like haunting!"

"What in the name of Amenthis is going on in here?"

Lord Jalborn strode straight into the middle of the room, jaw set in thunderous anger fit to match the lightning in his gaze. The head of the Saurivic family went toe-to-toe with his son, his authority equaling out the height he had lost with age. Jahaelis stared right back at his father, the vein in his temple pulsing.

It was Rosarin who tearfully explained.

"The Farakirn family has rejected a betrothal for Jatheryn," she croaked, her voice even more hoarse than usual. Her face was screwed up like she ought to be crying, except her eyes had no moisture to spare. "They deemed him 'unacceptable', him, a Saurivic!"

Jalborn blinked once, slowly, like a lizard. His eyes slid to Jatheryn standing behind Jahaelis, and Jatheryn saw something there he'd never seen before; pity. His grandfather had always been the one person who never looked at him like that, ever. Then Jalborn was focused back on Jahaelis.

"It was a mistake to even consider the Farakirns in the first place," Jalborn said firmly. "I would not see the heir to our family married to a daughter of commoners, even if they call themselves nobles."

"Then what do you suggest we do, Father?" Jahaelis snarled. He shook the mangled remains of the damning letter in Jalborn's face.

"All our avenues have been exhausted," Rosarin sobbed. "Not even the commonest of the nobility will have him!"

"You are both addled in the head. Have you not considered that there are noble families in cities other than Vaelona? Clearly the families here are prejudiced against Jatheryn, having spent too long thinking on no more intelligent thoughts than why one boy might be different from the rest. Rosarin, you yourself are a daughter of the Wynmyars of Blue Stone. Nobles from elsewhere in Goran might prove less quick to judge."

"And if they don't?" Jahaelis growled, shredding what remained of the letter. "If they too decide they don't want Jatheryn poisoning their bloodlines?"

"Enough!" Jalborn shouted. It was a powerful sound coming from a cotton-topped elder. "I will not have you speaking of my grandson in such a way!"

"He's my son!" Jahaelis roared back, once again nearly nose to nose with Jalborn. "Rosarin and I are the ones who have demeaned ourselves by begging and pleading with the nobles of Vaelona. You have done nothing to help us!"

As the shouting intensified, the dull throbbing which had begun earlier in Jatheryn's ears grew and grew. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Then he felt cool fingers slide between his own.

"Come away, Jath."

Awenis spoke softly, well below the attention of the furious adults. Leading Jatheryn by the hand, Awenis steered them both away from the ugly storm that, after what felt like years of brewing on the horizon, had finally arrived.

By the time Awenis closed her bedroom door behind them the shouting could be heard all throughout the estate. Even the whitewashed walls provided little barrier. Jatheryn realized that his legs were shaking. He sank down onto the side of Awenis' bed and put his head in his hands. No doubt his roots were showing through again by now.

The mattress gave slightly as Awenis sat down beside him. She reached out and enfolded her brother in a hug that smelled of lilac perfume and fresh air. Awenis was so slight, so delicate, seeming as liable to shatter as that porcelain dish on the drawing room floor. It was Awenis who propped the both of them up though, pulling Jatheryn's head in to lean against her shoulder.

"I hate Father for speaking to you that way," Awenis said.

"No you don't," Jatheryn mumbled. "Awenis, you don't hate anybody."

"You think I don't?" The sudden vehemence in his baby sister's sweet voice took Jatheryn by surprise. "I hated Garrett Kilgorin for throwing that rock at you when we were children. I hated Marielle Tremaris for telling me when I was fourteen that I was liable to die young for being so frail. I hate Waylon and Lizeth Farakirn for rejecting you, after I think Kendris was just starting to like you. And now I hate Father for saying such terrible things today."

"What are we going to do?"

Jatheryn sighed so deeply he thought it was liable to make his heart shudder. He also felt Awenis' shoulders lift and fall. The shouting rose another octave downstairs; it sounded like Rosarin was getting in on the action now too.

"You should go. Get out of the house, Jath, even if only for a few hours. Give everyone time to yell themselves out and start thinking again. The temperature is too high at the Saurivic estate today to bear."

"You should come too." Jatheryn took Awenis' hand, marveling at how lightly boned her fingers were. It was like holding a bird. "You don't need to hear any of that either."

Awenis smiled a tiny bit, but shook her head. The pale sunlight coming through her long, gossamer curtains highlighted the faintest spots of pink in Awenis' cheeks and lips.

"I can't. I have to be here in my room this evening."

Jatheryn frowned, confused.

"Why?"

"I...just don't feel very well is all. It's nothing, but all the yelling has given me a headache and I want to lie down." Awenis stood, pulling Jatheryn toward her balcony window. "You really should go out though. Go somewhere nice, like the Rainbow Gardens."

"I don't want to—"

"Father said a lot of cruel things today, but he did say one thing right; you do haunt this house too much, Jath." Awenis smiled sadly, reaching up to cup Jatheryn's cheek. "Go out and find something that makes you feel happy, even if only for a little while."

OoOoO

Jatheryn slid down the tree outside of Awenis' balcony like a thief escaping his own house. From there, not knowing what else to do, he simply wandered. He wandered past the Iralar estate, with its thorny tendrils of roses crawling up the black iron gates. A rose the size of a peach hung over the walkway in front of the estates, its perfume nearly overwhelming in the afternoon warmth. Jatheryn walked straight through the rose, breaking loose its blood-red petals to fall to the street behind him.

People went about their daily business in Vaelona, many walking and talking in pairs or groups. There were families, often with young children running ahead of their parents or clinging shyly to skirts. An elderly couple strolled together, arm in arm with laden baskets full of fresh market goods. The husband said something he no doubt thought was witty, and the wife rolled her eyes with the practiced ease of ages. Jatheryn watched them pass with unconcealed envy. Would that ever be him? He felt little hope that it could be.

The sound of music came faintly to Jatheryn, echoing and finding extra timber through the streets. Vaguely it pricked Jatheryn back into paying attention to his surroundings. He was nearing the heart of Vaelona, where all the grandest and most important of institutions could be found. The soaring glass domes and silvery pillars of the Central Hall of Vaelona could be seen from nearly everywhere within the city walls. Now they loomed bright and brilliant up ahead, with flocks of white doves flying past like summer snowflakes.

It wasn't from the Central Hall that the music was coming, but from another, less vast but no less grand building at the far end of the square. The Bardic College stood next to the School of Fine Arts and across the square from the Rainbow Gardens. In the center of the square stood a beautiful fountain in the shape of a maiden that looked like it had been carved from solid crystal. At the far end of the square began the immensely wide white stairs that led up to the Central Hall.

Letting the music lead him, Jatheryn passed the crystal fountain on his way to the doors of the Bardic College. The melody grew louder with every step; a rich medley of cellos, violins and singing voices. It had been far too long since Jatheryn had enjoyed a good concert—since the Crowning Day ball, in fact. The doors of the Bardic College were tall and clear as glass, but no less heavy than if they were made of solid oak when Jatheryn opened one side.

The main foyer of the Bardic College was a graceful rotunda with polished mosaic floors and live trees planted around the walls. In the center of the foyer an enormous sphere hung in midair, cleverly suspended by the employment of natural sciences involving the composition of the sphere and its base. The music which had led Jatheryn there echoed wonderfully in the rotunda, amplified from the alcove where a company of minstrels in training performed for their teachers.

The students all wore matching uniforms of silvery grey tunics or gowns with bright red embroidery. Their teachers stood out immediately in similar uniforms of blood red with silver hemming. A conductor stood at the front of the performing company, a slim baton in hand as he directed his pupils. Another teacher stood to one side, watching and making careful notes.

Entranced, Jatheryn found a bench and let himself fall deeply into the music. The violins all played in perfect harmony with each other and the cellos, and the singers complimented sopranos with tenors in turn. It was wonderful, superior even to the musicians his family had hired for Crowning Day. For a time, Jatheryn found solace in just sitting and forgetting everything but song.

"Do you play?"

Jatheryn was jolted out of his stupor by the unexpected question. To his surprise, he found a third, previously unnoticed teacher standing beside him. The fellow was bald, with arresting green eyes and a large ruby pinned through one earlobe.

"Yes, the viol," Jatheryn answered without thinking.

"Wait right here."

The teacher walked away, his bright red tunic a splash of color against the soothing monotones of the rotunda. He went to where the students were performing, and bent to rummage in a large case. Jatheryn's eyes widened when the man started back toward him with a viol in hand.

"Here, play if you will." He held out the instrument to Jatheryn. "We are always happy to hear the talents of any who feel the pull of music as we do."

"...Alright. Thank you."

Suddenly nervous, Jatheryn took the offered viol and settled it between his knees. It was an unfamiliar instrument, not his own treasured viol his grandfather had given him. Still, when he drew the bow across the strings he found it perfectly tuned.

When he glanced up, the instructor smiled encouragingly and nodded. With a deep breath Jatheryn closed his eyes and just listened to the song of the students again. Then, he found a place in the melody for himself and leapt in.

It was not a song he knew previously, and it was hard to stay in key signature and time with the others. Little by little though, Jatheryn began to relax and let the music guide him. Then he was free, following the river of music as one of many. No longer did he stand apart, a white blot in a field of colored flowers. Now he was music, and music had no eyes. Once or twice he made mistakes, but they were always easily moved beyond once the chorus circled round.

When the song finished, Jatheryn at last opened his eyes to soft applause. The teacher stood clapping his callused hands together slowly, appreciatively.

"You have more than the average measure of talent, that I can say with certainty. Have you ever considered pursuing a livelihood as a minstrel before?"

"I..."

Jatheryn realized too late what a trap he had walked himself into. He hadn't known how badly he wanted music, wanted this, until now. And it was only now that he came back to himself enough to realize that he couldn't.

"I cannot. I am the eldest child of an eldest child, and bound to the headship of my family one day."

"Ah, my lord."

Jatheryn hated those words with every fiber of his being, and the respectful bow that went with them. He handed over the viol and fled the Bardic College with all haste, leaving the puzzled instructor in his wake. He ran past the crystal fountain, past the Rainbow Gardens, past the destroyed rose hanging from the Iralar's gate. He ran all the way home to the front lane of the Saurivic estate. By now the sun was setting, and a faint purple hue hung over the gardens. The last rays of the sun dipped behind the hedges as Jatheryn stood panting, snuffing out the golden glow on the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, and it made Jatheryn want to weep. He wanted with all his heart to turn back around and return to the Bardic College, not to walk through these doors and once again become a Saurivic.

Movement caught Jatheryn's attention out the corner of his eye. Someone was at Awenis' balcony. Standing below in the gardens, Jatheryn waited for his little sister to come out and call him back inside. He was both shocked and more than a little terrified when the first person to appear through those silken curtains was not Awenis, or even a woman for that matter.

Even at a distance Jatheryn recognized Darenel Tremaris by his ruffled brown hair and the comfortable ease with which he carried himself. Awenis stepped out onto the balcony after him. Jatheryn nearly swallowed his tongue when he realized that Awenis was dressed only in her nightgown and a light knitted shawl. She practically glowed white against the growing darkness of the evening, her cornsilk hair floating about her bare shoulders in the lantern light.

"I wish you didn't have to leave like this." Awenis' voice came to Jatheryn like he'd never heard it before; rich and sultry. "Everything was so perfect until you had to leave."

"That I'm afraid is the problem with perfect; it never lasts," Darenel replied.

He reached out for Awenis and drew her close. The two kissed, slow and tender in the twilight.

"Yes it does," Awenis said when they finally broke apart. She reached up to touch Darenel's face, even more lovingly than she had touched Jatheryn's earlier. "It lasts in here, forever, and in here." She laid a hand to her heart.

Rather than answer, Darenel reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it from her breast. He caressed her knuckles where the silver infinity ring gleamed.

"Someday soon you'll wear that on your fourth finger, and I'll have a ring to match," he said. "I swear it."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Darenel," Awenis warned, sounding a little sad.

"I never do."

Darenel and Awenis embraced once more, kissing like two lovers who would never see one another again. Then Darenel turned away and reached for the branch of the tree beyond the balcony. Awenis went to the balcony rail and leaned over on her elbows, watching as he climbed down. Little wisps of hair floated around her like a white-gold halo. Then Awenis hugged her shawl tighter to her and went inside.

Darenel lingered a moment longer below the balcony, staring up at the doorway where Awenis had disappeared. Finally he turned to go, and nearly ran into Jatheryn.

"Lord Jatheryn!" he exclaimed. Blind panic showed plainly on his handsome young face. "I...apologies...I did not..."

Jatheryn was so very tired, he had no idea what to feel. He spoke slowly, just above a whisper.

"You are very, very lucky that it is only me, just a ghost, who has found you out tonight. If I had been anyone else in all Vaelona, both you and my sister would be in the worst trouble of your lives."

"I know, I am..." Darenel seemed to think for a moment, then threw back his shoulders. "Actually, I am not sorry. I...I love your sister, Lord Jatheryn, and she loves me."

"Then why do you sneak about in the dark of night?" Jatheryn asked with an arched eyebrow.

"My great aunt-"

"Would not approve, is that it?" Jatheryn stared at Darenel, then shook his head with a grimace that was almost a smile. "Rest assured, I will not say anything to anyone of what I've discovered tonight. But know this; the next time anyone learns of your involvement with my little sister, it had better be because the two of you are announcing a formal courtship. Understood?"

"Perfectly." Darenel bobbed his head, a stray lock of hair falling over his forehead.

"Good."

Jatheryn stepped around Darenel, heading for the servants' entrance. He didn't think Awenis would appreciate him barging into her room via the window this evening. He was unprepared for Darenel to call after him.

"Thank you."

Jatheryn paused at the door, his hand on the knob. It was a small but exquisitely rare thing; a word of appreciation from another young man. Still, it was something, another meager treasure to be tucked away in the trove within his heart. Slowly Jatheryn opened the door and stepped inside the Saurivic family house.

OoOoO