This is a companion for "Father and Son"—or that story I wrote about Matthew a long time ago (which is still up on my old ded account).
I was born into one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Angara. I was born Kalayan royalty, daughter of the prince. Although my mother gave birth in a manor at the Valian settlement, I spent most of my life in the capital. My father loved to show off, and my grandmother, the old queen, loved having me around in the palace.
The palace, oh I remember the palace from my early years. I seldom go there nowadays, but I remember exploring its every corner as a child—I'd find the tallest tower and investigate the darkest dungeon.
The garden was my favourite place. I would chase the doves high and low. I'd hide in the greenery and make my attendants search for me in vain. But Father, he would always find me—he'd always know where I fell asleep.
He'd find me asleep behind the sundial at dusk. He'd find me resting in the shadows of a wild rose bush. And I'd wake up in his arms as he carried me out though the palace gates.
"Time to go home, dear," he'd say. He would smile tenderly and put me down on my feet, taking my hand.
Passing through the city in the evening sun, I'd be distracted by street performers. Father would pick me up and let me sit on his shoulders so that I could see the performance. If my eyes lingered on something street vendors were offering, it would be in my hands seconds later.
"You're spoiling her," would Mother say. "You can't just buy her everything!"
"But we only have one daughter, dear," Father would reply, "and my little princess deserves everything Kalay has to offer."
As we passed town square, where the rocks doves gathered to be fed, the birds would flock around Father like a storm of feathers. Mother would always feel uneasy about that, but Father would just smile. He looked like an angel with that resplendent smile. And I would always remember this side of him, even if he'll never smile like that again.
Once, my father was Kalay's beloved prince. He charmed the entire country with his angelic smile and tender heart. He had friends among rich and poor alike. We were always receiving invites to dinners and parties. The nobles loved him because he was tender-hearted, having just enough courage to perform his duties as the prince but not enough to rule independently. They loved him because he captured the citizens' hearts with his idealistic ideas, but still was an aristocrat to the bone. He listened to his peers, and seemed to always take their side in important matters.
Father was a kind and idealistic prince, constantly reaching out to people in need. He would tread the streets on foot to see his subjects' predicaments with his own eyes. The rock pigeons would lead the way, and the commoners would shower us with simple gifts. They loved him because he looked out for them. He was their protector and symbol of hope, and he made sure to let them know he was doing his best to not let them down.
Yes, back in those days, everyone would've loved to see Father on the throne with the crown on his head.
You live in a golden era, Father used to tell me. He used to show me off to both the aristocracy and the commoners and tell me how proud he was of bringing another Adept into the family. Father regularly brought me to court, and even now, many of the servants recognize me as "Little Princess". I was tutored together with few children of nobles, but I spent weekends with my uncle's family in the heart of the city.
Father was always busy; he had his duties to tend to. I spent most time with my uncle. He followed my father like a dog, and looked after me when Father and Mother gave audience to the people or attended the king's council. He took pride in his work and didn't mind his moniker being the "The Prince's Watchdog".
My uncle and I, we aren't related by blood, but I never called him by name. He was my father's brother, his best friend, his protector—his sword and shield. He alone had the honour to pick my name. He alone was the reason my father sheltered and helped so many Valian immigrants. He's the reason Father could connect with the common folk and the less fortunate. He's the reason my father believes he has a soul.
He told Father he wasn't less of a human being because of his powers. He taught Father not to be afraid of his own abilities. He told Father magic was a blessing, not a curse. He told Father it didn't matter what magics he possessed—it was how he used his gift that mattered. And Father passed those words on to me.
My uncle taught Father how it was to truly be poor—to have absolutely nothing. He taught him that love knew no bounds and that your friends are family you choose for yourself. As a dirt-poor uneducated peasant, he had all the reasons to exploit my father's status and abuse his trust to rise on the social ladder. But he never did. He was perfectly content being the prince's bodyguard, and declined when the king offered a noble title. Because when he looked at Father, he didn't see His Royal Highness Prince Ivan—he saw his beloved little brother who needed him by his side when responsibilities became too heavy for him to bear.
Besides Mother and I, I don't think there is another person Father loves more than Uncle.
My uncle was one of the "Heroes of Vale"—the most famous one, actually. He was one of the crusaders who lit the Elemental Lighthouses and brought the source of magic back to our world. The stories of his adventures tend to vary, but everyone agreed that Father and Uncle forged a bond in their adventures. When my uncle's village was torn apart by natural disasters, Father welcomed him to Kalay, along with all the other refugees. In return for his unyielding kindness, Uncle swore his life to Father, and stayed at his side to protect him from harm.
His name became legendary thanks to the bards and the storytellers. I suppose slaying dragons with multiple heads does that to you. Through the years, many warriors came to see and learn from "Isaac the Hero", and even ask him join up for further adventures. But my uncle had no desire for questing—his thirst for glory and fame waned long ago. He was content where life had led him—to Father's side. He didn't care that people ridiculed him for his illiteracy and low birth or spread nasty rumours about him and distorted his character. He didn't care that people said he was an opportunistic peasant who tried taking shortcuts climbing the social ladder by being friends with the prince.
After being disillusioned, many wayward warriors would wonder if riches really were that much of a drawing force. How could a great hero like Uncle settle for being someone's retainer for life? Sure, he owed the prince a great deal for giving his people a place to build new lives on, but how many years of service did that warrant? Moreover, he was constantly being subjected to prejudice—Kalay didn't even appreciate his service.
My uncle served Father for nearly seventeen years. People don't nickname him the Prince's Watchdog for nothing. His unshaken loyalty is well known, and it's led to his own embarrassment multiple times. A famous story tells he defended my father's honour in drunken stupor and got beat up. He was left hanging naked above the north city gate with an insulting sign around his neck. It was quite a spectacle indeed. He worshipped Father, people say, and he would have stayed at Father's side forever if it hadn't been for that fight.
I was about three years old when he left Kalay and vanished from the face of Weyard. Rumours say Father and Uncle had a row and Father said something so unforgivable that Uncle left in grief.
I remember Uncle much better than I should. It is strange—I was just three years old when he disappeared from my life. It is strange—Matthew says he can't remember his father's face while I remember my uncle's warm carefree smile. Uncle had the bluest eyes I've ever seen and I loved being in his warm embrace. He was always kind and cheerful. It's hard to believe that people actually had anything bad to say about him. When I was upset because my parents were gone too long, he would hold me in his arms and sing to me. Sometimes when we were all by ourselves, he'll hold me and tell me about Father; he'd tell me how much Father means to him and how Father was his hero. He'd hold me and say I had the most beautiful blue eyes in the world. Blue—not violet, blue.
I missed Uncle dearly, and so did Father. From time to time, Father would look up at the old Valian sword hanging in the living room and sigh. His wistful look convinced me that the rumours about the fight were true, but what could he possibly had said to Uncle that day? What kind of insult could end a friendship as deep as theirs?
I love my father, but I can't say I know him. I know who my father isn't, but not who he is. I know he isn't the clumsy prince with the ridiculous smile who obsessed over his daughter and wife and had to show them off every second day. That was part of a façade he put on to endear himself to the people.
When we were in public he'd constantly pick me up, walk awkwardly and never stop grinning. But when we're home, his would drop that fake smile. He'd stop walking with that weird pace that indicated he was trying his best to look confidant. His true smile was faint and barely noticeable, and he walked with long sweeping strides. His normal voice was a bit deeper—calm and confidant, yet it held underlying kindness.
Sometimes, I would sit with him in the study when he's doing paperwork. Sometimes, he would start talking to me melancholically, telling me to choose my friends wisely.
"Things are not always as they appear to be. And people are not necessary as kind as they want you to believe they are."
Once, I overheard him discussing his "friends" with Mother and telling her he didn't know how long he could keep the charade up. He sighed and gestured to the papers. His "friends" claimed they wanted the best for Kalay but really only want the best for themselves, said Father. He would talk about that time Grandfather was out of commission… He would tell Mother how the aristocracy tried running Kalay through Grandmother who wasn't fit to rule…
My grandfather wasn't a mighty king, but he was a wise monarch. He didn't establish Kalay all by himself. He became king because the merchants who founded Kalay chose him as their leader. Majority of the nobility are founders or related to the founders of Kalay. They wield great power within the nation, and have a say about legislation and the nation's development.
Unlike Bilibin and Sana, Kalay is an elective monarchy. To my grandfather, it wasn't about power. It was about Kalay. He said the throne should go to whoever was most worthy. He retained his support from the nobility and ruled without complications in the early years. But things changed when it became apparent that he favoured his adoptive child and made him his handpicked successor.
The announcement alone was met with heavy resistance and critique. The people asked; how could this skittish boy be the most worthy to rule Kalay? Had King Hammet gone senile with age? Or was he under a spell? Kalay was nearly split in several city states. It was no secret that the aristocracy had problems with my father. There had been rumours about him having strange powers and was a demon in disguise for the longest time. Even though Father was a hero who allegedly saved the world, a "sorcerer king" was unthinkable.
Father needed mandate from the aristocracy to be able to rule. And he needed mandate from the commoners to keep peace. Kalay was still young, and revolts would be the end of her.
It took a long time to fully earn his people's approval. Father managed to convince the people that he was indeed a worthy candidate for the throne by establishing good relations with neighbouring thriving powers and dissolve the conflict with Lunpa. He gained the citizens' support by appearing as peace-loving idealist and he played his cards right to earn the noblemen's trust. He did publicly admit he was an Adept, but he never fully disclosed the nature of his abilities. He made it appear as if his powers didn't go beyond divination and clairvoyance. And with Uncle at his side throwing boulders and splitting the earth with the flick of a hand, the "Sorcerer Prince" was harmless in comparison.
My father balanced the aristocracy's interests with the commoners' needs. He built up his public persona as a naïve idealist. To the nobility, he said he trusted them to support him and help him make Kalay a strong nation. To the commoners, he said he would never forget that a king is nothing without his people, and that his other hand was outstretched towards them.
But it was all a façade. He was predictable because he knew what his subjects expected from him—he was telepathic and could read minds!
Father says it's harsh to know every truth. To know what even his biggest admirers didn't even know him. They loved the Prince of Kalay—not Ivan.
People know he's a wizard, but they didn't know the extent of his might. They didn't know he could practically decimate an entire city block with his mind if he so desired. They didn't know he pretended to be naïve because it suited his goals. Many failed to see that a person with Father's experience couldn't possibly be the smiling idealist who cut ribbons on opening ceremonies with a big childlike grin.
My father didn't have a bright childhood. His life had never been a dance on roses. He was a natural telepath and his powers alienated him from the rest of society. When they first surfaced he was constantly hearing voices in his head and people thought he was possessed by evil spirits. My grandmother went to great length to protect him and invited all sorts of exorcists and fortune-tellers to court, forever cementing Father as a child of misfortune. Even after he learned to control his abilities, he could never go back to being an innocent child. My grandfather had great plans for him and wanted to turn him into a perfect protector of the nation.
And he succeeded.
As the daughter of the Sorcerer Prince, I too can manipulate the winds. My powers surfaced when I was six. Auntie Jenna bought me a kite, and when I tried to fly it on a windless day, I realized I could conduct the wind. Father was so proud when he heard the news. I'll never forget that moment he lifted me up, spun around and said he would teach me everything he knew.
I didn't receive his mindreading abilities. When I was a little girl, I kind of wished I had. It seemed neat to be able to talk to animals, and quite useful to be able to know what your friends think of you. But Father held me and looked into my eyes. He told me not to be envious of his powers. He told me it was the most wretched thing his birth parents passed down to him and that he would not wish that curse upon any child in the world, let alone his own daughter. He promised he would teach me the art if I desired it when I was older and wiser, but he also told me that all it brought him was misfortune and grief.
I can openly admit I'm a sorceress. I can call myself a Messenger of Good—an Adept, without attracting a mob. While Father had to hide his abilities when he was a child, people greet me with smiles and ask me to show them magic tricks.
I live in a golden era. My father went out of his way to make sure I could live a life without being considering a creepy child. The Adepts are well-integrated into society—majority of them are hard workers and willing to use their powers to aid less fortunate people. Many even hold highly respected positions as teachers, priests, researchers and even military leaders. There's even a "wizards' guild".
Father campaigned long and hard for the Adepts to receive the rights to practice magic. I am told legalizing Psynergy was a slow process. At the time, almost all Adepts lived on my father's land in a small settlement a couple of miles away from the capital. Yet, magic-related accidents in the city became more common as the years went by. Psynergy related accidents were obviously tied to lack of education, but it still took two decades for the people see that pretending magic wasn't part of the natural order was foolish at best and dangerous at worst.
Establishing a magic academy was risky step in Father's career, but he regretted nothing. He believed in magic—he didn't head out of a journey to reinstate Alchemy to the world to not make full use of it. He also knew he would one day have children and he didn't want his child to relive his own childhood experiences. He wanted me to have the childhood he couldn't have. He wanted what was best for me, and he was willing to pay any price.
Father couldn't get support for his cause. The nobility started threatening the Adepts, suggesting they tried using the naïve prince to take over the country. My father bided his time for years, but when Mother become pregnant with me, he couldn't wait another decade. When his final attempt to reason with the ministers failed, he blew up in a formal meeting and renounced his claim to the throne.
My grandfather surprisingly didn't stop him when he moved out of palace and retreated to the Valian settlement in the countryside to run his own little town. There, Father would build the magic academy. He would personally overlook the project to make sure no troublemakers interrupted the construction. There were massive protests from the Anti-Psynergy Society. People got hurt, and many victims were people my father cared about. My Uncle's family, who lived in the city, was a primary target since some people believed Uncle fed the prince all those insane ideas about magic education.
Standing guard every day at the construction site wore Father out, but he regretted nothing. On the opening ceremony, Father held a speech. He said magic was a part of our world and that it was plain foolishness to continue criminalizing the people most capable of protecting us. He said felt for the people who were being locked up by family members for possessing the gift and he urged fledgling Adepts to come to the settlement and learn how to contribute to society using their gifts.
Kalay had more hidden sorcerers than one expected. Being a Psynergy instructor became my Father second job, but he taught his student with a smile. Eventually, many citizens would embrace my father's ideals and fight against the discrimination against Adepts.
The Valian immigrants couldn't thank my father enough for all things he'd done for them. He let them build new homes on his land. He campaigned for them to be given equal rights as regular citizens. He created job opportunities for them and helped them integrating into Kalayan society. He reached out his hand when the world had turned away from them. To them, my Father is a hero, a man truly worthy his title of the Hero of Vale.
But my Father's actions didn't go unchallenged. Some say Father realized he wouldn't have the mandate to be king and decided to give up and rule his "town of wizards" instead. Others thought he was no longer loyal to Kalay and moved out to the settlement to amass a personal army or make his own kingdom. The Anti Psynergy Society painted him as a scheming evil wizard who planned to take the throne by force. The claims were ridiculous, but part of the impression stuck. The cold demeanour my Father's later donned as Grand Vizier didn't help.
Father is the Grand Vizier of Kalay. Ironically, he has more power now than he would've ever had if he'd taken the throne.
Foreigners call him "the court wizard", but to the citizens he'd always been and will always be the Sorcerer Prince. Once, he was a candidate to the throne. Now, he's the king's advisor with absolute power of attorney. Before my grandfather passed away, he appointed Father to his current position. On his deathbed, he called Father to his side and made him swear an oath to protect the country. And my father told him he would live and die for Kalay and her people.
My grandfather did receive a trueborn son late in age, but he was a mere child when elected king. He had no experience and was truly a wide-eyed monarch. Luckily, Grandfather had foreseen the outcome of the election, and that's why he made Father Grand Vizier to safeguard the nation.
The evening Grandfather passed away, Prince Ivan vanished completely and the Sorcerer Prince was born. On the day the new king was crowned, nobody recognized the tall lean figure with a grim expression standing at the young monarch's side. His eyes were violet and gleamed in the sunlight and his long bright robes constantly swept in a soft breeze, hinting his immense power. Anyone who'd tried making an attempt on Prince Ivan's life got a trial, but those who attacked the Sorcerer Prince would be extremely lucky to even see themselves in court. Father doesn't even need to lift a finger to bring about someone's death. He could call down lighting with his mind. He could tear up a forest with storms. He was definitely one the most powerful wizards in present Weyard.
He's a Telepath. Any thought, he can hear it. Any memory, he can view it. Any lie, he can find it. Nothing escapes his soul-piercing eyes. And his eyes, so eerily violet… there's nothing about them that said "friendly" or "kind". Even when he wears a smile, most people would still say he appears wicked. In many aspects, he looks just like an evil chancellor from the fairy tales.
Call him a warlock or demon. Say he's void of emotion and that he's been faking everything from the start. Say that now when the old king was gone the Sorcerer Prince had truly revealed his true colours. Tell him even his love for his wife and his daughter had only been for show. Remind him he betrayed his friends and that's why he's all alone on the top—He doesn't care. But there is one line that never should be crossed. Never call or allude to him trying to dethrone the king.
No one is as devoted to the country as my father. No one has sacrificed as much as my father had for Kalay. As a child, he gave up his innocence. As a man, he sacrificed friends and family.
As a prince, he established trade routes and travelled all around the world as ambassador. He overlooked the city planning and made sure the Valian immigrants found a home in Kalay. He built schools and hospitals. As the Grand Vizier, he weeded out the toxic people and untrustworthy from the Kalayan court and ministry. He made good use of the Valians' knowledge of magic and ancient history. He funded projects to research magic technology. He's the reason Kalay is the pinnacle of civilization. He's the reason even empires like Tolbi and Sana don't dare making a move on Kalay.
Because above the skies of Kalay soared an eagle, always vigilant at watch.
I hate it.
I hate it when he says it.
I hate when he says is destined for loneliness and that everyone who gets too close to him personally needs to leave, or they would get hurt.
It goes against everything he believes in.
He doesn't believe in destiny. He makes his own choices, and even though a prophecy foretelling his quest of saving the world came true, it only came true because he chose to leave Kalay. He is not a pawn of a prophecy and that set the rift between him and my aunt—Father's trueborn sister.
It's no secret that my father is adopted. The old story said Grandfather found an abandoned child in a ditch and raised him as his own. That was later revealed to be a lie.
Grandfather took Father in as part of a deal to receive a huge donation from Father's birth parents. They instructed him to raise Father for fifteen years and then send him off on a journey with an old heirloom. They said he was a destined hero of Weyard and that Grandfather would see retribution if he didn't keep his word.
My grandfather originally wanted to uphold the promise, but later tried thwarting the prophecy as he wasn't willing to give up the son he'd raised. But after hearing Father parrot the words he'd been told since he was a child, saying his life belonged to Kalay and that he didn't care about any prophecy, Grandfather saw the errors of his ways. He gave Father a jade pendant, saying Father wore it when he was a baby. He instructed Father to head westward to track down his birth parents. He said it was only fair that Father sought the truth before deciding what he wanted to do with his life.
"I'm your son," said Father. He was just fifteen at the time, but he had long made up his mind about who deserved to be called his parents. "I'll do what you ask of me, Father, but I will return to Kalay. My name is Ivan—I'm your son."
Staying true to his word, my father returned to Kalay after Elemental Lighthouses were lit. Grandfather greeted him at the gate on his return. There were fanfares and music and he was paraded into the city, recognized as hero of the people.
As for my father's heritage, he discovered he was a blueblood—descended from a noble house of the ancient kingdom of Anemos. His entire family was dead, save for his sister.
Like Father, my aunt was sent away to be raised by strangers. Like Father, she too was a Wind Adept. Even though they didn't grow up together, they had so much in common. They were both given away at young age to be raised by adoptive families. They both struggled to hide their magic abilities from public and they both had a pretty cynic view of the world. They should've been close to each other, but they aren't even on good terms.
It all traces back to the dark past. My aunt, being older, remembered her birthparents. She was raised by a Xianese merchant, I heard, but unlike Father, she never accepted her adoptive family.
My aunt was born a diviner and left them as soon as she heard her calling. She joined the temple at first and then travelled to the West when the time was nigh. As far I know, she never went back to see the family who raised her. For her to completely disregard the people who raised her was cold. I've asked Father if they mistreated her, but Father said so was not the case.
My father couldn't even remember their birthparents' faces. He remained loyal to Grandfather even after his journey to Atteka. He could never forgive his birthparents for giving him away, effectively abandoning him.
My aunt doesn't acknowledge Father's personal accomplishments. She says Father is arrogant and doesn't understand his heritage or his true destiny. My Father says she sees is Ivan the Hero and not her own brother. The tensions between her and Father had always been there, but my aunt always had a place in his heart, and he was willing to wait for her to come around.
When Uncle left Kalay, my father wrote to her. He thought of her when his older brother was gone. So when she one day decided to come to Kalay and visit us, Father was overjoyed.
I remember it clearly. I was seven years old at the time. Father was so happy. It seemed almost as if he'd waited for this moment his entire life. For a brief moment, he once again embraced his childlike princely persona, smiling and skipping around in excitement. He made the servants prepare the guestroom and cook all the dishes he thought she might enjoy. He personally went to the docks to greet her on arrival. When she smiled to him, he took her hand and quickly introduced her to me and Mother. He began telling her how crazy things in Kalay were and how insane people were to think he was plotting against the king.
My aunt remained quiet and just smiled mildly in response to everything Father said. When we got back to the manor, she seemed to be taking notes of how Father lived a luxurious life. Over dinner she talked about how things were on her side—how there were problems with society and how more people were receiving the gift of magic. Father laughed and said it was the same in Kalay, and that he had his hands full adjusting the education system for future Adepts.
After dinner, my aunt sat with me in the sofa and told me about Atteka—how beautiful and majestic the mountains looked at sunrise and how mysterious the jungles were. She braided my hair and said I was a beautiful girl and would surely grow into a fine lady. She asked me if I could use Psynergy and I proudly said yes. She then told me about the Anemos, a great people that once ruled a mighty kingdom back in the Golden Age. She said they lifted their entire city to the skies to avoid wars and that's what the moon came from. My father laughed at the story, happy that I liked my aunt.
At night, my aunt tucked me in bed. She told me about the old ruins of the Anemos and about the Jupiter Lighthouse, about all the things I couldn't see in Kalay. She then asked me if I wanted to see all those wonderful things. And course I said yes—My aunt was so sweet and beautiful. I loved her. I'd love to go on an adventure with her. That night, I dreamt of that journey and we went to see the huge crater that was left behind when the city of Anemos rose to the skies and became the moon.
But past midnight, my dream ended when I heard noise coming from my father's study. I snuck out of bed to see what was going on, peeking behind the door.
My father and my aunt were arguing.
"Then when will you go back to Atteka?" said Aunt, who no longer sounded sweet and gentle as she sat in the armchair in front of Father's desk.
My father stared at her with an astonished and pained expression. It almost seemed as if he'd been stabbed in the chest. He closed the book he was reading and covered his face with his hands, sighing.
"So this is why you're here?" he said in grave disappointment.
My aunt wanted Father to go back to the lands of his birth. She said it was his duty follow their parents' legacy and be leaders to their people in Contigo. My father turned to stare at her in disbelief. He said, with a low voice, that his home was Kalay and his people needed him here. Things went from bad to worse from there.
"You are descendant of the Anemos!" said Aunt, raising her voice. "Are you going to turn your back on your own people, Cuauhtl?"
"My name is Ivan!" yelled Father, standing up and slamming his palms against the desk. "And my duty is to protect the people of Kalay!"
Aunt the cast a glance around the furniture and decorations in his study and let out a small chuckle.
"You just don't want to leave your riches behind, do you?" she then whispered. "Your time with Kalay was up the moment the Mars Lighthouse was lit. There is nothing that binds you to Kalay anymore. So was the deal. A thousand doubloons for fifteen years of childcare!"
"A deal? A deal?" said Father. "What kind of words are these? How can you treat me as cattle to be rent or sold? I'm your brother first anything else second! You see Ivan the Hero, but do you even see me as family at all? You can't just ask me to abandon my wife and child to go to Atteka with you!"
Aunt spoke loudly, but she wore a calm expression throughout the entire conversation, unlike Father who was clearly breaking down. Mother tried to calm him and defuse the argument, but he angrily told her to keep quiet. I've never seen him snap at her like that before.
"I don't expect you abandon your wife and child," said Aunt. "Of course they'd move to Atteka with us too."
"So these are your demands?" said Father with a sardonic laugh.
"I want to remind you of your place, Ivan. It is not here in—"
"You want me abandon my king and my country!"
"This is not your country," replied Aunt. "Your country is in chaos right now. There's civil war in Atteka and we are needed there!"
My Aunt then went on to say Father was ungrateful for their parents' sacrifices. She said he wouldn't be anything, had their parents not sent him off with Hammet with the lost treasures of the Anemos.
"And this is what you repay them with?" she finished.
Father said his parents were horrible people for sending their children away with people they didn't know. He said they were fools for trusting strangers with all that money. He said Grandfather could have taken the money and then thrown him in a ditch. He said whoever raised Aunt could have sold her into slavery or worse.
"Now you're just being ridiculous, Ivan. Our parents were seers. They obviously saw your future as a mighty prince."
Hearing that, Father got angry. He said that was even worse. He said a responsible parent wouldn't want their child to grow up in an abusive environment. He said he'd be more forgiving if they sent him away because they foresaw an imminent danger in Atteka, but they did it because they were glory hounds. They believed their children were the foretold heroes in a prophecy and decided to make a gamble. That, he could not forgive.
"It's only natural for parents to wish greatness for their children," said Aunt. "Would you rather be the son the mayor of an underdeveloped town or the ruler of a nation?"
"I'm the Grand Vizier by my own right," said Father. "You don't even know what I had to endure to get to this position. You don't know anything about me, Hama! And as it seems, you don't even want to know me!"
Father said he would stay loyal to the parents who raised him and cared for him his entire life. He said blood had become irrelevant to him ever since she refused him an embrace the first time they were reunited in Contigo.
My aunt didn't reply to that statement and there was finally a long silence.
I was scared. I could hear my own sobs and I tried to be quiet as best I could.
Finally, I heard something cling and clatter in the room. Then I heard something heavy drop down against the table.
"Here!" yelled Father. "This is more than tenfold of what was invested in me by our birthparents! Take this and return to whence you came! I am no longer your brother."
And for the first time during this entire conversation I saw true emotion on my aunt's face. Her eyes twitched in surprise, even though most of her face didn't change from that stone cold expression. And then, she turned her face away, hiding her eyes under her long parted fringe. She said nothing, but she rose from her armchair, shaking as she did, and exited Father's study. Slowly, she walked past my mother, who didn't know whether to comfort my father, or to tell my aunt not to go.
My aunt saw me sitting near next to the door opening crying, but simply gave me a small smile and a nod before leaving. Father sat in front of the money and the deed to the manor and just stared at them. His shoulders shook slightly, and when Mother touched him, he rigidly stood up and dashed out of the study. When he saw my aunt's back, all he said was "Sister!", but I heard so much more… His voice was cracked, and the way he looked at her, on verge of tears… yes, Father said so much more.
Perhaps she heard his apology. Because she stopped abruptly, and stood there in the hallway for a moment. She nodded her head, but she said nothing, and she never looked back. And she left in the middle of the night.
After hearing the servants opening the doors and letting aunt out of the manor, Father sank to his hands and knees. I stepped over to Father and embraced him. And he hugged me back, crying, once again heartbroken from losing another person he dearly loved. And from that day, I knew that no matter how powerful my father appeared to be, he wasn't invulnerable. He wasn't a demigod. He too, can be broken.
They broke him.
They broke me too.
They took Mother from us.
I don't know much about my mother's identity. She was from the east, a refugee my father rescued during his return from a political mission in Sana. She was ten years younger than my father and many believed she was marrying for money. Some said she would flee once reality hit her—that one day she'd wake up and realize she'd married the Sorcerer Prince. Others said my father just thought she was exotic and pretty and would throw her away once he got tired of her. Father was known for sleeping around when he was young. Kadri, one of father's old attendants, knew that too well. He said Father brought a different maid or valet to his chambers each week, and most of the people living in the capital believed my uncle doubled as Father's favourite lover.
Mother didn't fear Father's powers, despite that she was no sorceress herself. She didn't care that he knew her secrets and had accepted that he would read her mind. But the marriage still faced troubles. Auntie Jenna says they fought a lot in the beginning, but it was not related to his powers but rather to his priorities. My father was still adjusting to having his own family. He was away too often and he didn't know how to treat a wife. People made fun of Mother saying she couldn't keep his attention. Father kept leaving her alone in bed because of work and Grandmother was pressuring her for grandchildren. She blew up on him after hearing a nonsensical rumour about father having bastard children with the servants in the palace and ran off to Auntie Jenna.
Auntie Jenna had always been a pillar of support for my family. She smoothed out the surfaces and made Father and Mother talk about their problems. She was always the one Mother turned to when she needed someone to talk to. And Uncle served the same function for Father. I believe the marriage would've fallen apart the first year if Uncle and Auntie Jenna hadn't been there. Things became much easier when I came to the world though.
I was born in the second year after marriage. There was no mistaking in my parentage. I had green hair like my mother—although a shade lighter, and I inherited my father's face. My grandmother said it was like seeing my father as a child again. The way I smiled, the way I skipped around in the garden and chased the birds closely reminded her of the carefree child my father used to be before his telepathy surfaced and he became the Sorcerer Prince…
My Father was so happy. Mother too. They both liked to show me off and everyone in the city could see how happy we were. Despite the tumult in the political arena and Uncle and Aunt's leave, Father remained strong for me and for Mother. But then, the real tragedy struck.
There was a political crisis in the Sanan Empire—strife about the line of succession after the death of Emperor Ko was about to escalate to civil war. And Kalay had to pick a side.
I didn't understand the reason of sending Mother volunteering as diplomat, and I couldn't see how Father and the King thought she could make a difference. But her sacrifice did keep Kalay out of the war.
At the time, I was ten years old, confused, and most of all—scared. I begged Mother not to go. I begged Father not to let her go, but nothing could stop Mother once she'd made up her mind. I always liked to think I was a big girl, but I still cried when I said goodbye to her at the gates.
"Don't worry, my dear Karis," Mother told me, "I'll be back in a week or two."
In her dark brown eyes, I saw the calmness and love she'd always given me. I flung my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly.
"You promise?" I said. "You promise you'll be back soon?"
"I always keep my promises, dear," she assured me. My mother had never lied to me, but I couldn't help thinking that she gave me an empty promise that day.
After Father kissed her goodbye, he held her hands so tightly. His hands shook and he was unwilling to let go of the reigns of her horse. I couldn't see his face—he had his back turned to me, but I know he was truly upset and not faking this time. My parents never exchanged any words that day, but everyone who saw the parting were convinced that the prince truly loved his consort with all of his heart.
Mother kept her word.
She came back in time.
In a coffin.
I never found out who killed her, but the official statement says that it was poison. She was killed on Sanan soil and under the Emperor's protection. Her death was used as an excuse to distance Kalay from the conflict. It wasn't clear who actually did it or even why it happened. Some say my mother knowingly sacrificed herself for Kalay. Some say it was a planned murder gone wrong. Some say it was a Kalayan conspiracy to get to my father. But my father believes it's his wretched prophecy that had once again reared its ugly head and claimed another of his loved ones.
The prophecy. Oh, the prophecy. I wish I could forget about that other prophecy that haunted my father's life!
My grandmother was superstitious, so naturally she had a fortune-teller read my father's horoscope and tell her his future. The fortune-teller said Prince Ivan would live and die alone, without a single friend by his side. Everyone, including Father used to think it was pure nonsense. But after finding his trueborn sister and losing her immediately; after his dear brother abandoned him; and after his beloved wife's death, he began having second thoughts about all the friendships that had ended in heartache too.
Father seldom withheld emotions. He always kept people guessing by showing both tenacious strength and frailty. But on Mother's funeral, he didn't cry. I held his hand, but he didn't seem to even take any notice of that I was there. I have never seen a man so broken. But there was nothing I could do. I was his daughter, but I was just a little girl. I knew nothing. I could do nothing. Never had I ever felt so small, and so powerless.
Mother's death shook my world, and Father's entire being. They say time heals all wounds, but Father didn't heal. I came to terms with no longer having Mother by my side, but Father remained in sorrow. If his grief, he pushed everyone who loved him away, including me.
He distanced himself from me when I needed him the most. He spent long days at work, and I only got to talk to him when he returned for supper. Sometimes, we would talk about Mother, but most of the time he would ask the same meaningless questions every evening. He'd even leave the table early if I tried pushing my luck. Eventually, I learnt to give him the same answers every day.
"Everything's fine, my daughter?"
Yes, Father.
"No one picks on you in school, right?"
No, Father. They wouldn't dare, Father.
"Are you getting along with Matthew?"
Yes, Father. Don't worry, Father.
I'm not a particularly selfish or spiteful person. But sometimes, I think I have the right to be resentful when the people supposed to support me are cutting me out of their lives when I haven't done them any wrong. I became a horrible person when I grieved the loss of both my parents. I could no longer deal with Matthew's daddy-issues, and when he jokingly talked about his deadbeat dad I blew up in his face and shouted:
"Well at least Uncle isn't here to remind you how he no longer cares!"
After seeing the shock in his face, I became so ashamed that I immediately tried fleeing the scene, but Matthew caught me in his arms before I could take off. Because he knew. He knew exactly why I said that and he was upset because he knew I was crying inside. But unlike him, I had cultivated a pride over the years, and I pushed him away.
I didn't show up for the servants to pick me up that day. I didn't want to go back to the manor. I felt I had nowhere to go. I had alienated my closest friend and I didn't want to go the palace either. I remained at the fountain on the plaza for the longest time. At dusk, a middle aged man with an orange turban approached me and asked for my name. His bushy black eyebrows and beard framed his face and he had a rather pointy nose. He asked what a beautiful princess like me was doing all alone out here. I definitively should have run away, but I stupidly talked to him and told him that actually, I was indeed a princess. He offered to get me back to the palace and I angrily said I didn't want to go there or go home.
"Oh?" He chuckled. "But you can't stay out here all night. Where will you sleep?"
"I don't know," I replied, tears welling up in my eyes.
"How about you come home with me and decide what you want to do tomorrow?" offered the man. "I'll make you dinner."
I shouldn't have accepted, but I did because I was sad and confused. The bearded stranger lifted me up in his arms and then we left the plaza. He gently ran a hand over my back and hummed a pleasant melody to me. I didn't care at the time where I was going. With the warm evening sun on my head, and a stranger's song in my ears, I fell asleep.
It was stupid. It could've ended badly. I was lucky the man who picked me up was Auntie Jenna's friend and employee. He brought me back to the restaurant. The business was closed for the day because everyone associated with Matthew and Auntie Jenna had gone out looking for me. I was so ashamed I could die. And my father didn't even care to pick me up even after I had "gone missing". I didn't want to go home. I didn't know how to deal with a father that cold, and for the first time I began wondering if I meant anything to him.
I'm lucky that Matthew is a forgiving friend. When he brought food to me because I didn't want to eat, I blew up at him again, being the spoiled brat I was. Even so, he put his arms around me before I could even ask for forgiveness. Matthew understood how it felt to lose a parent. He saw through my tough act right away. He always knew when I was crying inside. He held me as I cried and he sang to me, like Uncle used to do, soothing my rage and grief with a song. And I emptied my heart to him that evening, telling him how I was hurting and how I no longer wanted to live. I said I had lost everything. But he held me and he kissed my tears away, telling me I still had him and Auntie Jenna and that they'd always be here for me. That night, we slept in his bed in each other arms like brother and sister.
My parents loved me with all of their hearts, but my Uncle's family loved me just as much. Matthew and I, we're birds of a feather. We're children of famous heroes and royalty, respectively. Most people believe we must be spoiled and happy. They don't know that Matthew, despite being the son of Isaac the Hero climbed the social ladder from the bottom. They don't know that I, despite being a literal princess have no power or authority at all. We don't have many friends. In fact most of our friends just stuck around for selfish reasons because of our connections. My attitude became worse after Mother's death and Father's neglect. I found it hard to turn the other cheek when people harassed the people I held dear.
One day, I used Psynergy against a man in school. Father called me to his office. I expected him to be mad and yell at me as usual, but he didn't. He looked at me right in the eyes and said he won't tell me what I to do anymore as a father. I yelled at him. I told him I attacked that person because he pelted Uncle Felix with a bucket of red paint, but he calmly ordered me to leave his office. When I continued to throw my tantrum he waited until I piped down and then stared at me icily. Then he repeated, low like a whisper this time: "Leave my office."
I was heartbroken and scared. A part of me shouted Father would never truly disown me, but I honestly didn't know anymore. At the time I desperately wished for him to yell at me, beat me, ground me, take away my allowance or even make me go without food. Nothing killed my soul as much as that cold stare he gave me. I didn't want to go home so Matthew took me to his place when I told him what happened. He said my father was just angry and that he'll personally pick me up before nightfall.
He was right. He arrived to Auntie Jenna's home—but not to pick me up.
He was roaring drunk when the chef of the restaurant dragged him back here. When he collapsed on the sofa, he kept saying Mother's name, saying he's sorry. When I walked past Auntie Jenna's room to check on him, I heard him weep, crying my name in his troubled sleep, and saying he's sorry.
I was hopeful that all this mess would be over by morning, but I awoke at night hearing noise downstairs in the kitchen. It was Father and Auntie Jenna. To my shock and surprise, Father propositioned to Auntie Jenna that I move in with her.
"I will pay for living expenses," said Father sullenly.
"Living expenses!" shrieked Auntie Jenna. "Are you kidding, Ivan? Because I'm not laughing!"
Father turned his head, away from her and smiled bitterly for himself.
"Why are you doing this?" whispered Auntie Jenna.
He sank down in a chair and put his face in his hands, sighing.
"You and Felix are just the same…" said Auntie Jenna. "You always think you can make decisions for others. Always have to be the big heroes."
"I have to protect—"
"You can't save everyone, Ivan! Even the Sorcerer Prince is just human!"
"I can't save everyone but I will protect my daughter!" Father yelled back, standing up and staring back at Auntie Jenna. "If you don't want to take her, I'm sending her to Garet or Mia."
I began to panic. I had nothing against Tyrell and Nowell's families, but moving out was bad enough. To leave Kalay and no longer be able to see the people I loved the most would be the end of me.
"That's rich, Ivan," said Auntie Jenna with dry laugh. "To think you'd believe Garet or Mia will accept your proposition when I find it ridiculous."
Father sank back in his chair and put a hand against his brow, shaking his head softly.
"My father is dead. Tryphon is gone. Isaac has left too. Hama is gone. Vera is dead," he whispered. "Karis will be next… They'll go after Karis…"
"Who are 'they'?" demanded Auntie Jenna. "The goons who attacked our restaurant and pelted Felix with paint?"
"I don't know who it will be!" shouted Father. "I just know that the next one leaving me is Karis."
"Did you see something?" whispered Auntie. "You know foretelling isn't set in stone."
"I know. That why she's not staying here with me. I don't expect you to understand, but everyone close to me has been taken from me. The Sorcerer Prince will live and die alone. Everyone he loves will be taken from him in due time."
"Ivan… You can't—"
"If my daughter is leaving, it's going to be on my terms!" Father declared, slamming his hands on the table. Auntie stood up and walked around the table, pulling Father into her arms. "She will leave me, but she will be safe. She will have a brother. She will have an aunt and an uncle to care for her and love her." His voice cracked. "She will grow up to be a fine lady. She will get married have children and—and—"
He broke down, unable to finish. He let out a wail and then began sobbing anew. Auntie Jenna tucked him away in her arms and stroked his hair.
"If I'd stopped Vera from leaving she'd still be alive! If I hadn't selfishly kept Isaac for myself, he wouldn't have to leave you and Matthew! It's my fault. It's all my fault—"
"Isaac loves you," whispered Auntie Jenna, "I love you too, Ivan. We would never blame you for what happened. We'll always be here for you."
And so I came to live with Matthew and Auntie Jenna. How long has it been? Four years almost.
Every day, I wake up early and to wash and get dressed. I head downstairs. I say good morning to the rest of the family. I eat breakfast and then get on Uncle Felix's carriage and ride to school in the Valian settlement. Matthew will sit next to me all the time. He'll hold my hand and say we'll pull through together.
Matthew, the big joker, once said we might be switched at birth since Auntie dotes on me so much and Father favoured Matt. Sometimes, I wish that was true. I want an ordinary family I could spend time with, while he wants a father he could look up to and all the respect and privileges that comes with blue blood. Once, he stupidly tried matching our single parents up, reasoning that we were practically family anyway. Of course that failed miserably, but at least he made Auntie Jenna laugh.
Auntie Jenna would never replace my mother, but she guided me through a tough period when I was practically abandoned by the rest of my family. She did my hair. She dressed me up. She took me out to help at the restaurant to make friends with the people there.
There was Kadri, father's former attendant who got fired after father left the palace. He had difficulty getting a new job, being a midget, so Auntie Jenna lets him keep the register. He tells me stories about Father when I ask and he still addresses me as "Princess".
There were Ibrahim, Erol and Ali, fledging Adepts who Auntie took in after being thrown out by their families for being different. They were all Fire Adepts like Auntie Jenna, so it was fitting that she trained them. Ibrahim was actually from a noble family. He was forty-five but his family locked him up and pretended he died of disease after he found himself in possession of Fire Psynergy. I asked if he misses his family. He says yes, but he didn't miss being treated like an animal. Erol and Ali were my age. Their family originally just asked Auntie to give them jobs here to keep them out of trouble, but Ali says their parents are scared of their powers. Erol hopes that their parents would one day accept them for who they were, once they were full-fledged Adepts, but Ali wasn't that hopeful, saying their father was too proud for regrets.
There was Joachim, the chef. He was the man who rescued me from the streets years ago. He was boisterous and always happy and generous. He's been flirting with Auntie Jenna for ages and has been friends with Matthew just as along. Matthew actually made him to propose to Auntie Jenna, but she said no. She loved Uncle too much to move on, but was still sad when Joachim resigned three years ago to seek fortune in the big world outside.
Tryphon, Matthew's relative and Auntie's friend, regularly dropped in to eat Auntie Jenna's scones. He has a grudge against my father, but he'd always been friendly with Mother and me. He says his own mother walked out on his own family when he was young and that's probably why he badmouths Uncle and calls him "Deadbeat Extraordinary".
I resent my father to some degree for leaving me too, even though I know he's doing it to prevent me from getting killed by his "curse". But as the years went by, my grief waned and I began moving on with life. I accepted the way my father behaved and even tried to help him, even if he doesn't want my aid. Because I know he appreciated a hello, even if he can't answer me back with more than a polite nod.
He's scared. He's scared the fortune-teller might be right. That he would live and die alone and that everyone he holds dear will be taken away from him in one way or another—Uncle, Aunt, Mother, and now me.
I'm scared too. I'm scared of what would become of him if I die early. I might be the last string that holds him to this world. He's lost his brother. He's lost sister. And he's lost his wife.
On the surface, he would be the unfeeling court wizard, pretending that there was nothing left in the world for him. But on the inside, he is hurting and needs someone to protect him. Sometimes, I want to write to my aunt and ask her to help Father, but I'm afraid. I don't know her. What if she makes things worse?
So I promised myself to be strong. Not just for myself, but for Father. I lifted my mother's old sword. I asked Auntie Jenna to teach how to me wield a blade. I trained my Psynergy every day. I became a fast sprinter. I conditioned myself to see through people lies and I learned to protect myself emotionally and physically.
I don't want to be a frail little girl when Father's broken down to the point that his enemies can get rid of him for good. I don't want to be kidnapped and used against my father. I don't want his worst fears to come true.
One day, Father will be frail. One day he will too old to soar the Kalayan skies. And when that day arrives, I will be ready take flight in his place. When he's old and frail, too weak to fight his own battles, I will be there and protect him as he'd protected me.
Everyone who bathed in the Light of Mars when Alchemy returned ages slower than normally.
Matthew's remaining grandparents don't look their age.
Grandpa Kyle, as a Champions of the Saints, was chosen to guard the final Lighthouse. Although defeated, he survived the battle through miracle. But he walked home with a blessing he never wanted.
At seventy-two, he could still easily pass as someone in his early fifties. He probably had another decade or two to live. Grandma Dora… not so much. Her golden hair had turned grey and she had many wrinkles on her face. She needed a cane to walk and had troubles with stairs, and her vision and hearing had become very poor. But she never stopped smiling.
After collapsing at the stairs one evening, Grandpa Kyle held her hand and cried at the side of her bed.
"It's all right," she told him. "Really, it's all right."
But it wasn't all right. Not for him.
"Sing for me, Kyle…" she said, "sing for me like you did the first midsummer…"
And he sang. He sang and sang. Even when the tears overwhelmed him, he still sang loudly.
It wasn't all right. Not for him. He was older than her. He should go first. He shouldn't have to watch her wither away like this.
I couldn't sleep. I could barely eat. Father was one of the heroes who saved the world. He too had been touched by the Light of Mars. He's clocking in on forty-five but he still looks twenty-five despite the unflattering grey hairs. Father might outlive me. The fortune-teller might be right. He will die alone… not because of a curse killing his family off—but because he'll outlive us all.
Even if I can fight all enemies fate might throw at me, I can't fight time. No matter how powerful of an Adept I become, no matter how fast I run… I will never be able to outrun time. But I don't want Father to watch me wither away. Parents shouldn't need to watch their children die.
I still see Father at the academy. He's constantly surrounded by his many assistants and apprentices who work on his latest research and projects. Uncle Felix says he's fired all the servants after I moved out. I bet the manor is a mess.
He's starting to scare me. He looks like a wreck. He's becoming thinner each day. His hair is turning grey despite his youthful face. He almost always has black bags under his eyes and his irises truly look purple now with the red veins showing in his eyes. He mumbles for himself and lashes out at his assistants once in a while, calling them useless. I once even heard him look skywards and cackle for no reason at all.
Every time I see my father, I want to run to him and tell him I love him and that I won't ever leave. I want to beg him to stop torturing himself and stop torturing me. But I can't. I'm scared he'd send me far away to Imil or even Contigo.
I love Matthew with all of my heart, but am jealous of Matthew because my father's attitude towards him hasn't changed much. Father still gives Matthew private lessons and talks to him like a good uncle does. Matthew says he asks about me, but Father barely nods to me in greeting in public.
Once, I snuck back to the manor just to see him. What I found would give me nightmares for weeks. Father had our home remodelled to an Alchemy lab. He's hired about twenty more assistants to work for him here on secret projects. I braved into his old study to find it covered in broken glass and nasty liquids as well as all kinds of disgusting goo. On his desk were his latest research notes. I only skimmed them through but the mere glimpse of what he's been doing in our home struck fear in my heart.
Immortality. Distortion of space and time. Necromancy. It's just too scary.
I couldn't stay another minute in that place and I fled in horror. Father was falling into darkness. He's trapped in the past, trapped the grief of my mother's death. He's probably trying to bring her back or tampering with other dangerous unholy abominable things.
I have to stop him. I have to save him.
But I can't even approach him. I can't talk to him. He thinks he'll kill me with misfortune. I'm afraid that if I make a mistake and approach him incorrectly he'll snap. I'm afraid he'll leave and go to Atteka and leave me behind.
I have to find someone else. Someone he'll listen to. Someone who could change his view. Someone who can save him. But who?
Auntie Jenna has tried. Grandmother has tried. Matthew has tried. I don't know if there are any more people on the list who can even get close to him…
Matthew debuted in a new role the theatre today.
As his best friend, I was there to watch. Auntie Jenna and several family friends were there too. So was our friend from the countryside, Tyrell, who brought his entire family with him with extended relatives and in-laws. His family home was located in the Goma Plateau, but he lived with his aunt in the Valian settlement to attend class in Father's school. Tutors in the east were horrible, Uncle Garet says. The word Adept have no meaning to those wizards, he says.
Tyrell has an uncle on his mother's side named John. No one likes John. He has red hair like most of Tyrell's family. But unlike everyone else, he's rude doesn't know how to behave in civilized society. He's loud and he talks like a raging drunkard all the time. He laughed out loudly in the theatre and embarrassed his family and he didn't care. He even got thrown out of the theatre during the first half of the play for disrupting the other viewers. I truly understand why Uncle Garet and Auntie Clara say they can't take him anywhere.
Matthew played his own father in a comedy retelling the restoration of Alchemy. He used to play my father as the sweet little prince, but after his voice broke he had resigned to move on to other roles. I chuckled a few times when Matthew played Uncle as an arrogant jerk who got away with everything and took credit for his team-mates work. Sometimes I suspect that he adlibbed most of the things he said on stage and was taking the opportunity to have a go at his deadbeat dad. The audience seemed to enjoy his performance though, which is good. Matthew is my friend, and I want him to succeed.
During the break, I went backstage to look for my friend, but I stumbled upon Father and Tyrell's uncle in the hallway to the dressing rooms.
John was a completely different person. He stood straight like a normal person, and he wasn't swinging around an empty bottle or slurring his words. They seemed to have come to the end of a conversation. I heard them mention Auntie Jenna, Matthew, Kalay, and me.
John. This man treated my Father so tenderly that I didn't know what to believe. He looked lovingly into Father's eyes, asking where their lustre has gone. He cupped my father's face with both hands, saying he looked like a zombie. Then he pressed a kiss on Father's forehead and started crying, whispering about Father's grey hair and tired expression. He cradled my father in his arms. He said he was sorry. He said he promised he wouldn't ever let go. He said he loved Father. He said Father was his hero. He said Father would always be his hero no matter what. And then… I saw my father's smile. It was a sad little smile, but a true smile nonetheless.
Who was this person? Who was this person who could touch my father like that? Uncle John… the alcoholic tramp. He… he loves my father? And… Father loves him back? Who was he? Was he an former servant my father used to sleep with when he was young?
After a while, they separated and John carefully fixed my father's wrinkled clothing. My father went to the male performers' dressing room, and John began leaving the staff area. When he walked past the exit, he saw me standing against the wall around the corner. He looked at me, gave me a slight nod, and then turned away.
But I saw them. His eyes. Those blue eyes he couldn't hide with a distasteful hairstyle and a shaggy beard. I grabbed his sleeve. I remembered.
He was the stranger who found me when I ran away from home years ago. He was the chef who hid in Auntie's restaurant for I don't know how many years! He had an unflattering black beard and a dark tan back then, but his eyes. His eyes were the same. I didn't realize it was him when he was Joachim, but after seeing and hearing John call my father his hero and kiss him like that, there was no doubt.
I tugged at his sleeve and stared at him, open-mouthed. He turned and faced me, letting me have another look into his cornflower eyes. And then he smiled again.
And in that moment I knew for sure. In that moment we both knew. He smiled to me, ever so gently. He smiled that smile I could never forget. I let him go when he tugged his sleeve back. We never exchanged a single word, but I knew it was him—my loving uncle.
He never left. He donned a disguise and took a different name to stay with Auntie Jenna! He fooled me. He fooled Matthew too… Matthew. He spent six years with this man and yet he couldn't tell this was his father in disguise! I guess I know where Matthew's acting talents comes from now…
My uncle meets me outside the theatre five minutes after the show. He gently waves to me with a hand and tilts his head aside with a smile, as if he's still seeing a three year old version of me. I thought he'd leave quickly to avoid me, but he has stayed outside and waited for me to come after I'm done talking to Matthew backstage.
I step over to him and he takes my hand, leading me to the marketplace. We look at souvenirs. He holds my hand the entire time, as if I'm still the little girl who used to sit on his lap at afternoons and listen to him sing. Uncle doesn't buy anything, but he seems enjoying the walk through the city. He says silly things to me. He says he wants to buy me a present but he can't because a princess like me probably has everything. He says my hair is pretty, but comments that Auntie can only comb two hairstyles and that she needs to learn how to cut people's hair properly. He then says I could get my ears pierced now if I wanted to, commenting that I was shrieking like the brat I was when Father didn't let me when I was five. He then looks at the jade bracelet around my right wrist—my mother's bracelet. He says Mother would be happy if she knew I was so strong and healthy. He says she used to worry I wouldn't grow because I was such a hassle to feed, being picky with the dishes. And he keeps going, telling me all the things he'd always wanted to say as my uncle, but never did.
When we reach the town square, he goes to the bakery and buys us a bag of sweet rolls. He then proceeds to tell me I used to love these kinds of things when I was little.
"Right," I say. "You buying these to me and Matthew as Joachim too. Until Auntie caught you and got mad, that is."
"Hah-ha! Right!" He laughs and scratches the back of his head. "She almost wrung my ears off, that woman!"
Thinking back, I now wonder how I couldn't have figured out the cheerful cook really was him. Sure, he hid most of his face and put a fake tan on, but he and Auntie always behaved like they were an old couple. That orange turban was quiet a hint too—as Father's bodyguard, he used to wear it around his neck as a scarf.
We sit down on the side of the fountain and eat the pastries. When he catches me staring at him as he eats, he tells me—with his mouth full no less—about that time he pretended to be a creeper and I still was naive enough let him take me home to his place.
"I'm not that stupid little girl anymore," I reply sullenly, finishing my first sweet roll and grabbing another from the bag on my lap. I then bluntly ask him why he left, wanting answers from him now. He winces and looks back at me with a sad expression.
"Do we have to talk about this, Karis?"
"Yes."
He sighs in resignation and then explains.
"Things got out of hand in Kalay when your father decided to ditch public opinion and push for us Adepts to be granted the same rights as other citizens. We didn't have that many rights back then…"
"I heard about it. You had to wear a symbol on your clothes indicating you were a wizard and you didn't have the rights practice magic. You could only get the worst jobs…"
"You should have seen those stuck up nobles' faces when your father suggested we should just wear his coat of arms since he technically would have to wear the badge of shame too!"
I smile.
"People thought I was feeding Ivan all the crazy ideas though. My family was getting too much unwanted attention because of my connection to your dad. You heard about the arsons right?"
I nod.
"That not the whole truth, right?" I say, and I know he knows what I was getting to.
"You truly are the eagle's daughter, aren't you, Karis?"
"I can't read minds if that's what you're implying."
"All right, all right." He lifts his hands in resignation and sighs. "I had a row with your dad, right. Was pretty serious too, yes."
"What happened?"
"He threatened to kill himself in front of me."
I stare at him. Really? Did Father really try committing suicide? Why?
"Someone sent gifts laced with deadly poison to my home, telling us it was from your dad… Jenna touched it and got sick. The rest of the family tasted the food and were poisoned. I ate most it and almost died. Luckily Saint Felix didn't touch anything and was there to save us all."
I shake my head. He is joking, right? Auntie and Matthew never mentioned that!
"Ivan wanted me to leave Kalay entirely. He said my family was poisoned because someone tried to kill me to get to him. I tried talking sense with him, saying it had nothing to do with him and that the Anti Psynergy Society was after me, but he freaked out. He took my sword to his neck. He told me if I don't want to leave, he would leave the world to keep us safe."
Uncle clenches and unclenches his hands. It seems incredibly difficult for him to talk about this and I feel sorry for both of us.
"But you stayed anyway…" I whisper softly, touching him on the forearms.
He gives me a small chuckle.
"Yep. I found a loophole and Ivan accepted it—as long as I kept my distance from him. On one hand, Jenna and I could stay in town where we can help people, and on the other hand we get less annoying fans and hooligans to deal with—two birds one stone if you ask me."
"But what about you?"
"What do you mean? I'm still your favourite Uncle Isaac, right?"
"Well, sure… But Matthew lost his father…"
"He never needed a father with all the nice uncles he had," Uncle says ruefully, "I mean… I wasn't exactly someone to look up to—I was a pretty much seen as a tool by everyone. I guess it worked out better for Matt this way. I'd prefer him to take after your dad and Felix than taking after me. And to think that my obnoxious cousin actually bought Matthew a place in that theatre troupe! Doubt that would've happened if I'd caused your father's death." He sighs. "I suppose the only person I owe is Felix. Poor Felix, we didn't expect him to stay behind just because I left."
"But why did you leave again? You were fine being the chef and dating Auntie anew, right?"
Uncle tilts his head aside and gives me a crooked smile.
"Can't tell you that, I'm afraid. It has to do with your father's research. But let's stop talking about me."
He changes the subject and decides to talk about me instead, asking me why the hell Father kicked me out since no one wants to tell him the truth. And I tell him. I tell him Father believes he will live and die alone regardless and that he had to push everyone he loves away to protect them.
"So, it's come to you now?" He uncaps his canteen and takes a sip from it, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand afterwards. "That prophecy is bullshit! It's bullshit, I tell you!"
"Tell that to Father," I mumble for myself at first, but then I look up at Uncle and grab his hand. "No, really, tell him, Uncle! He listens to you!"
He chuckles, lifting his canteen and taking another sip.
"Oh I will…" he promises with a bold smile. "I will."
I sigh in relief and put my arms around him, whispering a small "thank you." He sighs and brushes the top of my head was his thumb. And my mind wanders and I think of Father again. I remember that I might not be around when my father finally is a frail old man. I think of how broken he looked when I saw him in the staff area at the theatre and how Uncle had called him a zombie. I think of the scary research he's been conducting lately and tears well up in my eyes. I cling onto my uncle tightly when I remember the nasty things I saw in the place I used to call home and I remember all the nightmares it'd given me for the past weeks.
"Karis?"
"U-uncle…" I say. "W-will… will Father be all right?"
My uncle doesn't reply and merely lifts me to his lap. He folds his arms around me and holds me the same way he did when I was three years old and afraid that my parents won't come back because they had to pose for a painting. I close my eyes and let the tears fall, snivelling into his coat.
"U-uncle," I whisper. "I'm s-scared. I'm so scared. I don't want Father to watch me die. I… Don't want him to die alone. I don't want him to do those nasty experiments and try bringing back the dead. Uncle… uncle, uncle, uncle…"
He kisses the top of my head.
"Don't worry," he whispers, but I can tell he's searching for a joke in vain. "He… he's accumulated so many enemies that I'm sure he'll die long before any of us. And I promise you, if he ever tries to bring back the dead, I'll kill him myself."
"H-hah-ha…" I try to laugh, but it sounds forced. He doesn't make another attempt to cheer me up. Instead, he puts a hand under my hair to stroke the back of my neck. I close my eyes. It feels nice and comforting. I remember this feeling from long ago and I'd missed it.
"How did you and Father stay friends?" I ask.
"I love him, Karis." He says those words spontaneously. He's probably the only person besides Auntie Jenna who uses that word so liberally. It is, however, quite endearing.
"But he's a mindreader," I say. "He pulls anyone's strings. Uncle Felix, who's practically friends with everyone, can't stand him. He says everyone just loves an illusion or the idea of him or… or—"
I cry, and he holds me close, cradling me gently on his lap. He doesn't say anything. Maybe it's because I'm right. We both just love the idea of him.
"You're scared because you can't gauge him, right?"
I nod.
"I've been scared of the same thing once… I wondered how much of him was real and how much was fake, but…" He trailed off.
"But?"
"But having a telepath as your brother is comforting too. To never need lies to cover your flaws. And to know… that he loves you completely. To know that he loves you for all the things you are and for all the things you aren't…"
"Uncle…"
"Hah-ha…" he almost caws. "Disregard that, Karis. I'm a tool; don't listen to me."
"You're not a tool," I reply. "You're my father's brother. And you're my uncle. I love you, Uncle."
His chin brushes against my head and I hear him sniffle. I can't see it, but I know he's crying too.
"Sing something for me, Uncle," I whisper.
"You're a big girl Karis," he sniffles, "do you really need your uncle to sing you lullabies?"
"Matthew still sings to me when I ask."
"Because he actually can sing!" He then laughs. "I might have sounded wonderfully to you when you were two, but I'm sure you can tell I can't sing by now."
"Mm, fine," I pout.
"Still can't believe I actually fooled you. Matt I could understand, but you always struck me was a sharp-eyed girl."
"You hid in the kitchen!" I whine and playfully punch him on the chest. "You were much broader around the waist. You dyed your hair completely black and you wore a fake tan! You didn't look remotely Valian—unlike your current disguise!"
He chuckles and cuddles me again. He's quiet for a moment. Then he suddenly gasps, lifts his head and put me down on side of the fountain.
"Uncle?"
He frantically starts walking back and forth, waving his arms and swearing.
"I forgot we're supposed to leave before evening!" he says. "Garet and Clara's probably gone home without me!"
"You can come home to Auntie Jenna if you need a place to stay for the night."
He averts his eyes and thinks for a while. Then he looks at me.
"You won't rat me out to Matthew, will you?"
I grin.
"I won't. Promise."
He gives me a sceptical look. Then he raises his hand and offers me his little finger. I raise an eyebrow and give him a questioning look.
"Really, Uncle? I'm fourteen."
"Your father was never too old for this," he said.
I laugh and loop my pinky around his.
"Fine, I promise."
He smiles, withdraws his hands, and then lifts me up in his arms and starts leaving the plaza.
"Oh, come on!" I say. "You just said I was a big girl!"
"Oh, you are, Niece!" He grins, renewing his hold around me. "Oof! See how heavy you are! So what does the little princess want for dinner? Better buy the food fresh when we're already near the market."
"I hope you have an excuse to show up for dinner."
"My excuse is that your father invited me."
"Father won't invite John the alcoholic tramp!" I laugh. "I…I don't even know if he'll even be willing to show up for dinner when I'm around…" I then add quietly.
"He'd invite his friend Joachim, tho."
"You're testing my abilities to keep secrets, aren't you?"
"Hm, maybe? Now let's go buy some hair dye. For your father too! Have you seen his hair? I knew he was stressed, but he looks like the walking dead! We must fix him up!"