Dark Destiny

Part One: By the General's Hand

II: His Father's Son

"Hold still, boy. If you keep squirming like that, I'm never going to get this wound cleaned up properly."

Zelgius winced as Captain Targus wiped the wet cloth across the wound on his forehead. "My apologies, Captain. I was just thinking about what you said earlier."

"What, about Rackson or the Guild docking more of your pay? I told you that I can only do so much on both of those accounts."

Zelgius shook his head. "No, it was about what you said about General Gawain accepting new recruits into the army…"

Targus didn't even pause in his work. "Yeah, what about it? Have you reconsidered your original decision on not joining up with the army?" His voice almost sounded hopeful.

"Not entirely, Captain. I was simply curious as to who I would need to talk to if I was able to join up after all."

"Well, as you're no doubt wondering, it isn't General Gawain. Now, don't look so disappointed, boy!" he chided, seeing Zelgius's face fall. "Depending on the area of combat you're drafted into, you'll be able to meet the General at some point in time. Don't you worry about that. But General Gawain doesn't have the time for such things as recruitment. He's got enough on his plate with all of the skirmishes against Begnion on the southern border. No, you'll need to talk to General Tauroneo. He's the one in charge of the recruiting process."

"General Tauroneo…he's the newest of Daein's Great Riders, isn't he?"

"Well, I don't think 'new' is the right word for it, but yes, he's the most recent addition to the King's most trusted generals. The 'Moonlight Knight' he's called. He, General Gawain and General Bryce were all recruits themselves around the same time, back when I was still a sergeant. I know, hard to imagine me looking any younger, eh? Ha! But there's no other man that Gawain trusts more, hence why Tauroneo is the one in charge of bringing in the ones who Gawain will train."

"So, if I talk to General Tauroneo, I'll be able join the army?" Zelgius asked.

"Not necessarily," Targus said. "Tauroneo will have to deem you worthy first, though I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure how he does that."

The comment left him a little disheartened, but Zelgius was still determined. "It doesn't matter. I can find General Tauroneo at the military compound, right?"

Targus pulled the cloth away from his head and started rummaging through his bag. "You'll find him there most of the time, but you can't simply knock on the door and ask for him. It's not an inn, you know." He pulled a pouch from his bag. "Ah, here it is!" He dipped his fingers into the bag and produced a clear, foul smelling gelatinous goop that he spread across Zelgius's forehead. Its touch burned slightly before cooling and hardening against the skin. The pain was gone instantly and only a dull throbbing remained. "There, the wound's closed up, but you'll have a scar there for some time."

"What was that?" Zelgius asked, gently touching his forehead a few times. "There's no more blood…"

"Vulnerary," Targus replied, returning the medicine to his bag. "They're neither the most pleasant nor the most effective of all remedies, but they'll work wonders when you don't have any heal staves available. Consider that as your first lesson in army medicines, should you decide to join."

Too anxious to think about it, Zelgius returned to their original topic of conversation. "If I can't find General Tauroneo at the compound, then where can I find him?"

"You have a question for everything, don't you, boy?" Targus laughed. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected, since you're cooped up in these mines for all hours of the day. Normally, you couldn't even see him unless an officer came to you personally and drafted you into the army so you could meet with Tauroneo that way. I could probably put in a word for you, but it's likely I'll be ignored just as quickly. But you're in luck. General Gawain just made the announcement yesterday that for the first time in years, the army's having opening recruiting at the Winter Festival this week, with final acceptances coming at the end of the week."

"If that's the case, they must really be desperate for new recruits, then."

"You're telling me. Too much political nonsense going on with Begnion. But the Festival is where you'll find General Tauroneo by the time it's over." A smile as crooked as the end of his pike appeared on his face. "And maybe even General Gawain himself."

Zelgius rose to his feet. "That is enough then. When I leave here, I'll find out where General Tauroneo will be during the festival. Even if I can't meet with Tauroneo until later, it can't hurt to do some poking around tomorrow morning before the festivities begin." He threw on his cloak before removing his utility belt. He hung the belt on an iron hook protruding from the cave wall. "Thank you for everything, Captain."

Targus clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't mention it, laddie. Hope you find what you're looking for and that General Tauroneo sees the strength in you. Keep a sharp eye out for Rackson, too. I don't know what the deal is between you two, but I'm smart enough to recognize bad blood for what it is."

Isn't that the truth, Zelgius thought. "Farewell, Captain. I hope to see you again someday."

The cold air stung his body as Zelgius stepped outside the cave and made his way down the mountainside, choosing his path carefully and avoiding any crevices or fissures. The slick, black stone that covered the mountainside made his journey that much more perilous and threatened to send him tumbling down the hill. The black stone fascinated him and Zelgius often wondered at its true nature but he could only guess that it was a remnant of the long-dormant volcano that lay to the east of the silver mine. The rock was scattered about in loose piles and Zelgius took a fair sized rock and pocketed it away.

It was dark by the time Zelgius reached the valley floor that made a direct channel to the capital. It was a moonless night, the natural light eclipsed by clouds, but the lights of the capital in the distance provided more than enough bearing for Zelgius. It was surprisingly cold for this time of the year and the chilling winds that blew out of the mountains forced Zelgius to wrap his cloak more tightly about him. The dried sweat on his body froze against his skin. Zelgius remembered how his mother had told him that while Zelgius had only been born at the end of October when the weather should have still been tolerable, it was snowing harder that it had in years and the ground was completely frozen for nearly six months after that. That winter season had been the longest and harshest on record, so brutal that comparatively few crops had grown the next spring and even the spring after that. Even though that was over twenty-five years ago, Daein's economy was still recovering from the loss of food and goods that regularly came in from the west. The winter that was soon to follow was proof of that already. The ground now was already coated in a thin frost that was likely to last well through the following morning.

Despite the obstacles he faced, Zelgius traversed the terrain quickly and soon he had reached the southern edge of the last he was upon the great capital of Nevassa, the lights from the palace and the many lavish homes that circled it all too recognizable at any distance, whether they were being viewed from the mountains behind it or the plains in front of it. It was Zelgius's only beacon in the dark and he quickly found the path that led up toward the mountain the city was built against and the bridge that led into the city from behind.

There were only two ways for the common people to get into the Daein capital of Nevassa: through the main gate at the southern wall of the city or by way of the northern bridge that spanned the crevice separating the back of the city from the mountains to the north. Most civilians were expected to use the main gate of the city and make their way through the tiered capital that way, since the northern bridge was primarily used as a means of importing and exporting goods to and from the capital, as well as a less conventional and less heavily trafficked means for ambassadors and politicians to exit the city. But then again, Zelgius wasn't "most people". Because of his job in the mines, he was allowed to use the bridge whenever he came to and from his job. It was better than trekking all the way down the mountainside to the plains beyond and circling around the city's eastern wall before reaching the main gate. By the time Zelgius would have gotten there, it would be well past midnight and he would have to waste time arguing with the guards as to why he needed access to the city at such a late hour. And that didn't count the trek all the way to the top of the enormous citadel. There was a third option, a southwestern bridge, but it was restricted to the movement of military forces in and out of Nevassa, no questions asked.

But stranger and more incredible than everything else was the fashion of which Nevassa had been constructed. Raised in the early days of Daein, a crowning, unprecedented achievement of former Begnion senator and Daein founder Hengist, Nevassa had been built on seven levels, each of which was delved into the hill. Each level was elevated over the one before it, separated by a wall that was only crossed by means of traversing a road that began at the base of each level that circled around the entire wall running up the road before leading to a gate. The gates of the first four levels were not all placed in the same fashion; rather, they were staggered about and placed in strategic locations that should the capital city ever be invaded, an optimal defense was provided to keep enemy forces at bay as long as possible. The lowest and main gate that led into the city, the Grand Archway, was placed at the southern face of the wall, the second was placed at the north, the third at the west, and so on. The city split between the fourth and fifth levels and the walls here rose twice as high as those of the ones below it. In all the times in its history that Nevassa had been besieged, not once had an enemy breached the fifth wall, often referred to as the Great Wall. The Great Wall ran across the fifth level and down to the second level where the gatehouse near the southwest bridge lay. The center gate of the Great Wall rarely opened to the commoners of the first four levels and was largely restricted to those of the upper class and military. Guard towers that rose high enough as to pierce the very heavens and grand battlements covered the upper levels, set in accordance with extravagant homes of the nobility that were set alongside the roads that converged on the seventh and final level of the city, where the Royal Palace towered above all else. The entire city had been cut directly out of the mountainside, whittled down and shaped in the form of seven levels. The only parts of the city that was not made out of stone were the stunning stained glass windows that covered the Royal Palace.

Common was the misconception that Nevassa's structure and position were placed in complete randomness and by the sole will of Hengist himself. But as even the smallest child in Daein knew, Nevassa had been placed in precise coordination with two of the other greatest capitals in Tellius, Sienne and Melior. While Hengist had fiercely resented and opposed it, he knew that without even a tenuous alliance with Begnion, Daein would not even survive a century of sovereignty. Together, the three cities formed what was decreed as the Triangle of Unity, a symbol of peace and agreement between the three beorc nations, bound by a sacred covenant that had withstood countless wars and political scrabbles for over two hundred years. At the center of this great triangle lay the Tower of Amiton, at the southern edge of the Daein-Begnion Border Mountains, where the three countries had made their treaty and bound themselves to each other outside the knowledge of powerful Goldoa and its king, Dheginsea. The three capitals: Melior, the White City; Sienne, the Divine Realm; and Nevassa, the Black Citadel, had stood has a testament to, at the very least, a sign of friendship and toleration across Tellius. No matter what strife may arise or wars occur between these countries, the Unity was always there, a reminder of peace in the name of the Goddess. So long as the three capitals stood sovereign, the Unity would never be broken.

Nevassa lived up to its name and reputation to this day and many would find the city's beauty, history and impregnability to be unsurpassed by any other city in Tellius. Zelgius was certainly no exception. But he had no time to bask in the glory of the city from without, which was by far an improvement over the harsh Daein countryside where he had grown up. He quickly passed along the great stone bridge that spanned the gap between the mountains and Nevassa. The bridge was enormous, though not as large as the one used for military processions, and was at least twenty feet wide and more three times that in height. There were no other travelers this night and the pathway was kept clear of carts and wagons. The atmosphere here made Zelgius feel strange, like he was crossing the threshold between worlds and that he alone existed.

Zelgius, as he did every night, gave himself pause midway across and his eyesight turned down to his left, where Daein's military compound lay. It sat nestled against the mountain far below the palace; it didn't even truly belong to one of the seven levels of the city, as the large compound sat between the third and fourth levels. It could be argued that this was because the military belonged to neither the upper nor lower classes, but Zelgius didn't care either way. The compound was solitary and isolated, its windows dark as they were every night. He could see through the open roof into the main courtyard and while the compound itself was not very large in area, the training grounds it boasted were more than enough to compensate. A set of stairs led down from the compound out into the plains to the east, where the main training grounds were located. The grounds stretched out for miles, passing beyond the outer wall of the first level and along the mountains to the north. They were walled in and Zelgius could vaguely see the shadowy forms of guards pacing along the walls in their nightly routine. Zelgius thought of General Gawain, who was somewhere within those walls, and how he longed to finally meet the famed Great Rider of Daein in the hopes of freeing himself from this pathetic thing he called a life.

And if his luck held, perhaps Erasmus hadn't been informed of the army's open invitation just yet. By the time Erasmus realized what was happening, Zelgius would have spoken with General Tauroneo and been accepted into the army. It was the only option left to him and so long as Erasmus remained ignorant for the rest of the night, Zelgius could successfully outmaneuver his father.

But Zelgius was going to be late enough as it was and could not stay for more than a few moments. He spanned the remaining length of the bridge and presented his pass to the two guards stationed there at the gate. It would not have been necessary since the guards knew him by name and the exact time he arrived each night. But Zelgius was bound by his regular routine and while the gate was fully raised by the time he reached it, he stopped and solemnly raised his pass for the guards to see, who casually waved him through.

"You're on time and as stoic ever, Zelgius," one of them murmured as he passed through. "Sometimes I wonder if you have any kind of personality at all. I don't know how Erasmus puts up with your stolid obedience as a servant so much."

Zelgius ignored the man's comment and made his way along the rough path against the hillside before reaching the battlements of the Great Wall. He immediately turned to his right, taking a street that led away from the main road. He picked his way through the surprisingly large mobs of people gathered around the various shops and vendors. The streets of Nevassa were just as lively at night as they were during the day, at least in this part of the city where the citizens could afford to pay the nightly fares for goods. While other major cities throughout Tellius such as Melior or Sienne may sleep after dusk, Nevassa's nightlife was often considered to be even livelier than its activity during the day. Zelgius was immediately assailed by loudmouthed vendors attempting to sell him something completely useless and overpriced. He kept to the center of the road, taking casual glances around him at the mobs of people while keeping his gaze focused forward.

Crowded in amongst one said mob was a man Zelgius recognized. Zelgius spotted him as he tried to brush off a Daein army recruiter and before he could decide whether or not he wanted to greet him, the decision was taken out of his hands as the man turned and spotted him.

"Zelgius!" The dark-skinned man waved and hurried over. "I knew that you would have to pass through here on your way home. I didn't see you outside your house this evening at the usual time."

Zelgius was surprised, if somewhat irked, by Igor's appearance, but he used the distraction to break away from the overly-persistent recruiting officer. He didn't need to talk with anyone from the army right now except General Tauroneo. "Did my father send you to come and find me?" he asked, turning to the other man.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Igor joined him in walking up the street. "It just so happened that I was over at your father's house when I realized that you hadn't returned yet. Needless to say I was worried and decided to come and find you of my own volition."

"That's very kind of you, Igor," Zelgius said, "but don't feel like you have to go way out of your way on my account. I'm sure Igrene wanted you home as soon as possible to help look after your son."

Igor couldn't help but smile. "Eh, don't worry about it. I finished selling early today and my wife can surely manage without me for a while longer." He looked back down the street at the recruiting officer, who was now glowering after them in light of their abrupt departure. "Being hounded by more recruiters, I see. But Zelgius, why do you keep giving them about as much attention as your father gives you? I thought you wanted to join the army, or at least have a chance to."

"I don't need to talk to mere recruiters," Zelgius answered, hastening his stride. Already he wasn't pleased about being pestered by Igor, but the other man was hindering his pace. "Recruiters only sell the prospect of joining the army and make it sound more enticing and I don't need that. I don't need convincing; I need to talk to the one in charge of the recruiting, not some soldier who will just tell me things I already know."

"I bet if it was General Gawain in question, you would be more than willing to lend an ear," Igor joked.

"Except that General Gawain has more important things to do, like watching the southern border."

"True. But still, they must be really desperate for soldiers if they're going around scouring the streets at night for willing volunteers. What can you do, though? With so much hostility between Daein and Begnion, the war could break out anytime."

Zelgius sighed. He wasn't going to get rid of Igor, was he? The man kept bringing up topics of conversation that Zelgius found too intriguing. If he was going to be stuck with Igor for a few more minutes, he might as well make the most of it. "What do you think, Igor?" he asked. "Will it really come to war with Begnion?"

Igor looked thoughtful. "I can't really say. Being a simple middle-class merchant in Nevassa, I'm not really privy to such information, even with such a vast information network to rely on. I've got a contact in Begnion's military that feeds me some information every so often as long as I feed him some extra for taxes and he tells me that if it comes to it, Begnion will be ready for war."

"Is this 'contact' of yours giving you reliable information?" Zelgius didn't bother to hide the skepticism in his voice. "Information from outside sources can be incredibly inaccurate."

"You say that only because you don't trust anyone, Zelgius," Igor countered.

"Can you blame me?" Zelgius replied calmly. "I don't trust you, let alone my own father, so I naturally have to question the integrity of anyone else."

"I suppose," Igor admitted. "So I won't take that as an insult. But the information is as reliable as you can get. He's an admiral in the Royal Navy but he does merchant work where he can, so he hears all kinds of things on both fronts. As you know, Begnion is always looking for ways to express their own superiority over their suzerains, and he thinks that's excuse enough to go to war. That, and Daein doesn't have friendly relations with much of anyone nowadays, Begnion and Crimea most of all."

"Kind of makes the whole 'Triangle of Unity' scenario moot, doesn't it?"

"I think it's more complicated than that, but that's one way of looking at it. I do know that with war brings more jobs and profits, as well as fame, so if Begnion decided to assault Tor Garen, I'd imagine the King and his Riders would jump at such an opportunity to show Begnion what they're made of."

"If it involves teaching those disgraceful Begnion aristocrats and senators a thing or two, I'm all for it," Zelgius replied. "And if I can join the army and help in any way possible, it would be nothing short of a great honor. When was the last time Begnion and Daein broke out in hostilities that exceeded minor skirmishes but didn't escalate to a full-scale war?"

Igor shrugged. "Dunno. It's hard to really draw the line between border scraps and real battles. Probably not since your grandfather sent Erasmus to live with me and my family back when we were both kids."

"Igor, I will ask you again as I always have," Zelgius said, taking eager advantage of the obvious chance to turn the subject in his favor. He stopped walking and turned to face the other man. His voice lowered to a whisper. "My grandparents, who were they? All I know is that my grandmother was one of the bird tribes. And I only know that from the arguments my parents have had in the past. They have something to do with the way my father treats me, I just know it—"

"And I will answer you in the same way that I always have, Zelgius," Igor replied. "It is not my place to tell you that. Admittedly, I don't know a whole lot more than you do, but I don't think I'm exactly the right person to tell you that."

"Then if you won't tell me, who will?" Zelgius demanded. He probably sounded more desperate than he intended to. "My father gave me the same answer every time I asked him when I was child, if in a more abrupt manner than you, and my mother is too much of a coward to go against my father and tell me herself. You're the only one left who knows my father well enough to tell me."

Igor sighed and began walking again. "Zelgius, I believe you'll find that there are truths in life that you'll have to discover for yourself instead of having them revealed to you. You can't just expect everyone to tell you everything, especially out of desperation."

Zelgius caught him by the arm. "Now, that is not in your place to tell me, Igor," he said, his voice suddenly filled with anger. "What do you know about living the life I have been forced to live for twenty five years? Don't try and preach to me about something you don't fully understand."

Igor frantically tried to pull away, but Zelgius's grip was as strong as his father's was. "Y-your father said something of that matter to me long ago," he stammered. Clearly something about the situation brought back a painful memory. "As with your father, I didn't mean any offense by it, only that I'm trying to help you. You're starting to sound like him, Zelgius, whether you like it or not."

"With that in mind, you should not have said such a thing," Zelgius said, releasing his hold on Igor's arm. "And I don't want help from anyone, especially from someone who takes pity on me simply because he can." He gave Igor an apologetic look. "I do apologize, though. Sometimes it's hard to control those impulses that my father passed on to me."

"Well, that's fine then." Igor shrugged and handed him a pouch that, when Zelgius opened it, contained at least twice of what Zelgius currently had in his possession. Why was it that everyone was paying him tonight, even if one time had been for his job? "But I'm going to give this to you anyways, whether you like it or not."

"I couldn't possibly accept this, Igor," Zelgius protested. "It's too much, at least. You and Igrene need this more than I do." He started to hand the pouch back, but Igor stayed his hand.

"I've already given it to you, Zelgius," he said. "I couldn't possibly take it back now. It would go against my own beliefs."

"While I respect your philosophy on this matter, at least allow me to return half of it. Half is more than enough. I won't accept so much charity."

"It's not a charity. It's a gift from me to you."

"That's not acceptable," Zelgius insisted. "I told you that I don't need pity from you. Take it back."

Igor stubbornly shook his head. "No can do, Zelgius. It's yours now. Do whatever you feel will make you the most happy with it."

Zelgius sighed. "If you're that insistent about it, then fine. Perhaps I can use it to pay my father in full—"

Again Igor stopped him. "That's the last request I have for you, Zelgius. Don't hand it over to Erasmus. You already give him enough money as it is. Please, use it for yourself. Igrene and I both agreed that would be best. If you happen to make it to the Winter Festival this week, then perhaps you can use it there."

Before Zelgius could debate the matter further, a beggar on the side of the street darted out from the shadows and up beside them, tugging on Zelgius's cloak. They must have seen Igor pass the money to Zelgius because their free palm was turned upwards. "Care to have your fortune read, sir?"

Zelgius turned slightly to face the beggar. It was strange enough to see one in the upper levels, but he was more surprised to find that she was nothing more than a girl, perhaps no older than ten years old. The look on her face was that of innocence and youth and it was possible that she was even younger than Zelgius presumed, especially considering the fact that she barely came up to Zelgius's chest. But the most stunning aspect about her was not her age or size, but her hair, which was purest shade of silver that Zelgius had ever seen, so pure in fact that it made the silver in the mines look dull and tarnished. The clouds had cleared and it was almost luminescent under the light of the full moon.

But why, after he had been down this exact street every day for the past five years, had Zelgius never seen her before?

The girl's piercing yellow eyes found his. "Would you like to have your fortune read?" she asked again. Her hand slid into his and while they looked thin and frail, her grip was quite strong.

"We have no time to waste on beggars like you," Igor said before Zelgius could respond. He started to shoo her away. "Make yourself scarce, girl."

Zelgius pushed the man back. "Igor, what's gotten into you? There's no need to be so curt with her." Zelgius turned to girl and gave her a kind smile. "I'm sorry, but we're in a rush. Another time perhaps."

The girl reached out for his hand again when he pulled it away. "Are you sure? I won't even charge you as much as I would someone else."

Zelgius looked at the girl's ragged clothes. "But why would you do that? You clearly need the money and can't afford to be too picky."

"Because you're different than the others," the girl insisted. At the comment Zelgius pulled his hand away. She wasn't visibly hurt by the comment, but she slunk away all the same. "I can tell there's something strange about you, different and yet…somehow familiar. I don't even need to do a reading to tell that your story is a sad one and your life has been full of anguish and despair—"

Zelgius took more than a few steps back. "I think you've said quite enough!" Fortune teller or no, he was furious that someone had looked into his soul so quickly. Zelgius was gone down the street in an instant, with Igor hot on his heels, but the girl called out to him once last time.

"I will see you again very soon and when I do, you would do well to listen to what I have to say!"

"Zelgius! Slow down a bit, will you?" Igor hurried to keep up. "Are you in such a hurry to get away from her that you would rather rush to see your father?"

"You heard what she said," Zelgius growled as he whirled on Igor. "Anything that my father can throw at me would be preferable to listening to another word of what she has to say! How can you be so ignorant about this, Igor? Or is it that you truly just don't care to think about it?"

Clearly surprised to see Zelgius upset so easily, Igor put up his hands in a warding gesture. "Okay, okay, calm down, Zelgius. I'm sorry I keep bringing this subject up, or at least causing it to surface. If you would like, I can leave you now since you're almost home."

"I thought that you would have done so by now, since your own home is down on the fourth level."

"I know," Igor said, "but one thing still bothers me." He took a glance back down the street. The beggar had disappeared, but even Zelgius knew better not to think that she wasn't still watching them. "All things aside, there was something strange about that girl, don't you think? Especially since she could read you simply by touching your hand. Ridiculous fortune telling or not, it wasn't normal."

"She did strike me as more than unusual," Zelgius agreed as he took a deep breath to steady himself. Calm your mind, he told himself. Empty it of all emotion. Don't allow your father to intrude upon the last safe haven you have left. "The way she talked made it seem like she was far more knowledgeable than she appeared. It was almost as if she was…" He trailed off.

"Almost as if she was what?" Igor asked.

Zelgius shook his head. "Never mind. It is an idle thought. I just thought she seemed…familiar was all."

"Familiar? Where could you have possibly seen here before, Zelgius?"

"I didn't say that she looked familiar," Zelgius corrected him. "When she touched me, it felt as though I had seen something in her that I've seen in myself. I can't explain what that is. Just a feeling is all."

Igor let the conversation drop. "Well, maybe you can figure out this feeling of yours after you meet with your father," he said, stopping at a break in the iron picketed fence to their right. "You're home now, so it will have to wait for later."

The realization that they were standing in front of the mansion surprised Zelgius, since he hadn't even noticed it on the approach. It was far bigger and taller than any of the ones around it, though it still paled in comparison to the Royal Palace far and above to its right. The only aspects of the home and its grounds that weren't set in black stone were the windows, which were tinted in red, and the lush gardens that lined cobblestone path to the main entrance. Zelgius's mother had never failed to keep the gardens beautiful and alive, even in the midst of winter's coming. Some kind of magic at work there, Zelgius assumed. It gave the mansion a slightly more comfortable feel, something Zelgius had been able to hold on to.

Zelgius stepped forward but Igor stopped short of the walkway. "Well, Zelgius, this is where I leave you." He almost seemed hesitant to get any closer to the house, as if taking even one more step would burn him.

"You're not coming in with me?" Zelgius asked. "If you do, it will be much easier to explain to my father why I'm so late again."

"No, I'm not brave enough to face your father," Igor said. He looked up at the mansion. "Not any more, at least. The drinking spell he went through may be long over, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still prone to anger if you don't choose your words carefully. You know that better than I do, Zelgius. If you feel you have to lie, go right ahead. Even mention my name if you'd like. It likely won't help you, but you never know." He patted Zelgius on the shoulder. "Farewell, Zelgius. I'll be seeing you again shortly." He smiled. "Good luck."

Zelgius didn't watch the small man go, for his mind was already too preoccupied with other thoughts. How was he going to explain to Erasmus why he was late again? He could lie, like Igor suggested, maybe claiming that there had been an accident in mines that kept him. But his father had always possessed a knack for sniffing out lies and half-truths, largely due to his career as a politician.

But Zelgius was through stalling. If he possessed any shred of courage, he would deal with his father, whether the man was drunk or not.

He didn't take his time approaching the mansion and Zelgius pushed the door open just a crack and peered cautiously inside. It was mostly dark, the only light coming from the small candles mounted along the walls of the entrance room.

Even after five years of living here, Zelgius had never felt comfortable living in the house; the mansion was even more lavish on the inside than it was out. The walls were draped with crimson tapestries and banners of such sort, standing in blatant contradiction to the rest of the house, which was, like all the others, built entirely out of gray stone. The crimson decorations were largely there due to Monica's roots, as she had belonged to a wealthy family in Begnion before meeting Erasmus and traveling to Daein. Zelgius didn't much care for the overly lavish decorations because for one, he didn't see the purpose in flaunting wealth, even if it was in the privacy of their home. All it did was make Zelgius look like another supercilious noble and Erasmus always did what he could to make himself look that way, even if it was showing the colors and signs of a family in another nation. Anything to bring his own prestige up. Outward tolerance of less than desirable neighbors made you more appealing in the eyes of the people. But all of it was in total disregard to Zelgius's own loathing of the Begnion Empire, since he knew his history as well as everyone else. It didn't matter in the slightest that his mother hailed from there; in Zelgius's eyes, the Begnion Empire had always been the symbol as the enemy to the free people of Tellius. Daein was, despite its harsh winters and pyramid aristocracy, the only place Zelgius had ever called home and he quite liked the civil and political liberties he could have here on rare occasions. Begnion was far too wrapped up in custom and restrictions for his taste.

Zelgius moved quietly through the main room towards the stairs in the east wing and still there was no sign of his father. Perhaps he was out. Erasmus had sworn off heavy drinking, but it didn't mean he couldn't go out and enjoy a few drinks. Igor simply could have been assuming things when he thought that Erasmus had noticed Zelgius's absence—

"You're late, boy."

Damn it.

Zelgius froze halfway through the room and turned. His father was standing on the main stairway leading to the second level of the house, with a far more than stern expression on his face. It wasn't that the look on his face surprised Zelgius, he was used to it after all the years, but there was something unusual about it. His father's face was stretched tight, like a bedspread pulled taut across a mattress and creased on the corners. He wouldn't retain his youthful appearance forever, after all. That said, Erasmus had still retained his muscular form after all these years and while Zelgius was of a suitable size himself, Erasmus made him look tiny and insignificant in more ways than one. At times Zelgius thought himself to be looking into a mirror every time he saw his father and further proved the fact that he took after Erasmus more than Monica.

Let it only be a likeness of the appearance and not a reflection of the soul, Zelgius thought.

"Good evening, father," Zelgius said earnestly, but not cordially. He wasn't going to show his father compliancy but nor was he going to give his father any reason to become angry. If he remained emotionless, perhaps he could make it upstairs without a scratch.

"You can dispense with the pleasantries, Zelgius," he said. He strode purposefully down the stairs and stood before his son, stopping only two feet away. He was still dressed in his robes of office, a heavy black cloak that sported a large collar around his neck. It still amazed Zelgius that his father had barely aged a single day since Zelgius had been born. Laguz blood notwithstanding, it was still astounding. Only in the past several years had he truly showed signs of aging.

Erasmus glanced at the closed wound on Zelgius's head. "Hurt yourself again today, boy? Likely explains why you're late."

"Rackson," Zelgius replied evenly.

"Tsk. Picking fights with your cousin just like you always have." Erasmus extended his left arm. "But I'll deal with that later. The gold. It's the end of the week."

Zelgius pulled the sack containing the gold from his cloak pocket and quickly handed it to his father, who began to count it in earnest. He made sure it wasn't the pouch Igor had given him since it was far more than Zelgius would have earned and Erasmus would have immediately suspected something. Erasmus didn't notice Zelgius slip two gold pieces from the bag and into his own pocket, inside the pouch of gold Igor had given him.

Erasmus noticed the missing gold pieces immediately. "You're short, boy," he scoffed. "At least a dozen gold pieces." Erasmus's face contorted with rage. "You've been shirking on your work again, haven't you?"

Zelgius already had an excuse prepared. "The silver ore in the southern mineshaft dried up today," he lied, still nervously fingering the other coins in his pocket. "There was no time to seek out another shaft. You know that the miners get paid on the amount of silver they bring in each day—"

Erasmus shoved his way past him. "I know how it works, you imbecile! I don't need to be lectured by a worthless piece of scum like you. But that still doesn't explain why you were late." He made a half-turn back to Zelgius. "Again," he added.

"Well—"

"I don't need to hear any more of your lame excuses, boy!" his father shot back. "Do you think I truly care why you're late every night? Why would I even care about that when I haven't bothered to about anything else about you?"

"Nothing except the money I earn," Zelgius mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say, boy?"

Already the anger was beginning to rise from within. "Nothing, father. You have your money, then. If that's all you need, I think I'll excuse myself."

Erasmus seized his right arm and pulled him back. "I did not dismiss you, boy," he hissed.

Zelgius held his ground. "Are you going to beat me again?" He wasn't going to back down. Zelgius had backed down enough times in his past. Nor was he going to give Erasmus the satisfaction of seeing him angry. "If you are, I won't stop you. But if you do it now, mother is not going to be pleased when she returns any time now."

Erasmus growled in frustration. "You think you can always use that shield on me, don't you?" he said through gritted teeth. "And I bet you also think she actually cares about a worthless maggot like you."

"Why shouldn't she?" Zelgius asked, still retaining his composure and bottling up his anger. "She loves and cares about you."

The last bit slipped out and for it Zelgius earned not a backhand to the face or a knee to the gut, but a full-forced blow to the face from Erasmus's enormous and clenched fist that connected with Zelgius's nose. Zelgius did not budge an inch as the bones in his nose shattered and blood sprayed through the air. Only his head moved as it snapped back violently. The subtle nudging in Zelgius's head told him where the blow was coming from and quicker than he thought that he could ever move, Zelgius brought his left arm down in a warding motion and slapped Erasmus's second strike to side. Erasmus, furious that he son had defied him, struck out again from the right. But Zelgius was ready and just as he had done to Rackson, brought his leg up and shielded his exposed side.

The maneuver left Erasmus vulnerable but Zelgius stayed his hand. Erasmus took the opportunity to grab Zelgius by the scruff of the neck and pull him close. "What's the matter, boy?" he taunted. Zelgius's inaction clearly amused him. "You could have hit me square in the chest and yet you stood there like a statue. Pah. Are you too cowardly to fight back?"

"I am not you," Zelgius spat. The pain in his face was making it increasingly difficult to hold his emotions in check. The anger boiled up from within him like a volcano waiting to explode, stemming from a source deep with his body. "I am not going to fight you just to satisfy my own anger. I will not stoop to your level."

"You forget your place, wretch," Erasmus said through gritted teeth.

"It's right here, showing you that I'm not as weak as you supposed. While I may hate it as much as you do, I am your son and whatever strength you possess I'm likely to have as well. Our brands can tell us that much if our actions cannot."

"Perhaps I should send you off to the military when, by society's records, you're of age," Erasmus mused. "Let one of Daein's generals like Bryce or Lanvega beat some sense and obedience into you. That ought to straighten you out."

"We both know why you can't do that." Zelgius wiped the blood from his nose. "As far as the general populace is concerned, I'm not even supposed to exist, remember? I'm just a servant in your house here to earn you money and I know that you won't let that go. Then all of the cover ups and keeping the rest of the family quiet would all be for nothing. And then your reputation would suffer because of me when they found out about my brand." The last threat may have been idle, but Zelgius did what he could to make it sound plausible.

A cruel smile spread across Erasmus's face. "You're bluffing, boy. You wouldn't dare try that. You're as good as dead if that happens."

"Then at least I'll drag you down with me."

"You're a goddess damn fool for even thinking that. You haven't been alive as long as I have and you don't understand just how horrible it would be if you were exposed."

Wait, was Erasmus, in some odd and indiscernible way, actually protecting Zelgius from the horrors he would experience if anyone found out about his history? Or was it the cleverly concealed lie that Zelgius had perceived, that Erasmus only cared about himself and his reputation and wouldn't risk the slightest blemish to his name?

"Your naivety disgusts me. The fact that you're so dimwitted as to make hollow threats proves how utterly useless you are." Erasmus released Zelgius and shoved him in the direction of the stairs. "Now, get your worthless hide upstairs and stay there. I'm wasting my time with you." He pocketed the pouch of gold. "I don't want to see you again for the rest of the night and if I do, I swear by the goddess Ashera I will beat you until you can barely breathe. And wake your sister and have her take a look at your nose. Your mother will be home soon and I can't have you looking like a beaten ragdoll while she's around, even if you gave the excuse of getting into a fight with Rackson."

"I won't have to wake her," Zelgius said, looking past his father. "She's standing right behind you."

"Good evening, father!"

Erasmus turned to face the girl behind him, who was no more than eight years old with dark black hair. Her face was that of youth and innocence and at times Zelgius thought himself to be looking at his mother when she had been younger. Her clear blue eyes in contrast to Erasmus's green ones were proof enough of that.

"Maria, my dear, you were supposed to be in bed already," Erasmus said as he lifted her up and put her in a sitting position on his arm. Rather than sounding stern, his voice full of love and affection. Zelgius was instantly forgotten.

"I know," Maria admitted, looking a little guilty. "But I thought I heard you and my brother talking, so I wanted to come and see you! You're both so busy that I don't get to see you very often." She hugged him tight before looking over at Zelgius. She gasped when she saw his face. "Brother, you're bleeding! What happened to your nose?"

"Don't you worry about your brother, Maria," Erasmus said before Zelgius could say anything. "But how is daddy's little angel this evening? Did you make your father proud at the academy today?"

Maria kissed him affectionately on the cheek. "I sure did, father! Master Pakku was so impressed with my spells this morning that he let me practice with healing staves this afternoon!"

"Then perhaps you can use what you've practiced on your brother," Erasmus growled, putting her back down. "Zelgius can't seem to stop getting into fights with your cousin and he's doing more than making me look bad."

"Okay!" Maria exclaimed, running off towards the stairs. "Come on, Zelgy! I'll go get my heal staff and meet you at your room!" She was gone in an instant and Zelgius followed her quickly, glad to finally be rid of father for the night and satisfied that he had successfully kept his father and his anger at bay.

"And one more thing, Zelgius," Erasmus called and out of the corner of his eye, Zelgius saw the nastiest smile he had ever seen appear on Erasmus's face, stretching ear to ear. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to. I could tell by the way you walked in, the look of apprehension on your face you when you realized that I hadn't gone out yet. I know that you've been talking with army recruiters much more than usual lately, since that fool Igor already let that slip to me."

Zelgius didn't turn and his hand clenched tightly about the wooden railing. No. He can't know. He's lying, just as he always has. He's been too busy to even know about it.

Erasmus laughed. "Ha ha! See? Look at you! I've frozen you solid! You know I'm right! You're so weak, Zelgius! You tried to call me on sending you to join the army and yet you didn't even realize that was a bluff itself! Did you really think that I'd just send you away to the army where I wouldn't have any control over you anymore? Your one chance to be rid of me once and for all; and a pathetic one at that. I bet you were hoping that fool Gawain would take you into his army weren't you?"

Zelgius closed his eyes. "Father, I simply thought that—"

"But do you hear me, boy? Mark my words, there's no way for you to 'escape' this. You have nowhere else to go and for as long as I draw breath, your worthless life is going to remain subject to my demands! There's plenty more to come and with time, perhaps you'll learn your place."

And as Zelgius climbed the rest of the stairs to the second level the only things on his despairing mind were the slamming of the west wing door and Erasmus's hollow and mocking laughter echoing through the walls of the house.

Author's Note: Well, I wanted to get this out last month, but two things were in the way: 1) College came upon me quicker than I thought, so I was very busy and 2) NO ONE told me that Darksiders is one of the greatest games EVER made (Aside from Fire Emblem, Zelda and Golden Sun, of course). Honestly, I spent about as much time playing that in the past two weeks as I have writing this chapter over the past month! That said, I hope this lived up to the expectations of my rapidly growing group of readers. I know it was mostly dialogue and description, but I'm setting the scene here for what happens in the next several chapters. Let me know how I did with that. And I hope I described Nevassa well enough, but if you want a better picture, look for it on Fire Emblem Wiki.