The young prince was so absorbed in the view before him, he didn't hear boots clicking on the wood.
"Hello, Martin."
The young prince turned around to see Benedict towering above him. The warrior's clothing were painted with the earth and his hand contained a toolbox. Clearly, he'd been gardening.
"Dad!" Martin shot up and tried to pull the tall warrior in for a hug only to be stopped by Benedict's stumped arm.
"I'm not your dad, Martin, but your uncle. You know that."
"You have always been more a father to me than… him." Martin spat out at his former mentor.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Benedict's mouth curled up for just a second before turning serene once more, "But I have long forfeited that role to Random."
Martin bristled at his father's name and turned his back to his former mentor.
"Why do you have such aversion for him?"
"Because!" Martin snapped, "He is a damn weakling! He drove my mother to suicide, left me to fend for myself all these years and he turns up after he thinks I might be dead. I had to nearly die in order for him to finally notice me. And now I should suddenly believe he gives a damn?!" Martin pointed to castle Amber, "Busy playing at war or pretending to be king, he sure has time for THAT!" The young prince accidentally bumped against Benedict's toolbox, let out a frustrated whine and kicked it so hard it flew across the little lake, wrecking one of Benedict's bonsai's, "I don't NEED him. I've wasted too many years of my life waiting for that sorry excuse of a father. He has had his chance, alright?!"
"You're never given him a chance."
"I-"
"I wasn't finished."
Martin winced at Benedict's sniping tone. He knew it well enough to know he was to be in trouble if he said another word. His more rebellious side began to speak up though and Martin scowled. "I'm no child anymore"
Benedict squinted at the wayward gleam in Martin's irises. "You wish to be treated as an adult yet you're acting every bit like your father in his wilder years," The tall warrior sighed. "From the very moment he found your card till the moment we parted ways in Shadow, you were the only subject coming from his lips. Random wasn't obliged or forced to search for you. Not only that, he also brought you to Amber."
Martin huffed, "He is just using me to gain sympathy with the masses." The young prince spread out his hands like he were creating an imaginary head title, 'The long lost son finally reunites with his repenting father."
Benedict tsked at the sarcastic tone of his former student. This was not how he'd raised him. "Your father inherits a war-trodden city and a fractured golden circle. Now more than ever, everyone is watching the future King of Amber. They know he's been irresponsible, impulsive and poorly educated in courtly manners. They'll think him an easy prey and test him tremendously…and you as the living legacy of Morganthe, will continuously remind them of Random's lesser traits by merely being present in Amber's court. This will diminish Random and therefore diminish Amber's greatness, for the King is Amber itself." Benedict paused, "I counseled to send you into Shadow, at least till he has somewhat solidified his rule and earned their respect. Out of sight is out of mind, after all. But your father refused despite all the arguments I just told you now."
Off course Random refused, Martin bitterly thought, he thinks I can not fend for myself. Poor little Martin needs to be kept in a golden cage and occasionally be brought out to show off.
Benedict glanced at the sulking prince, "He's prepared to stain the very crown of Amber with his reputation. Oberon would have never allow this to happen, had you been his. Any stain had to be erased from the history books or quite literally be thrown under a rug. He would not have cared to know whether a bastard son lived or died, he would not have sought you in Shadow and most definitely not have brought you to Amber. He would have forgotten your very existence the moment he discarded your Trump and happily moved on with his life."
Something not unlike unease began to build in Martin's stomach. He… hadn't looked from that perspective at all. "I was curious to get to know Random when he turned on my doorstep," Martin admitted, "But I never meant to stay long. Just a short visit and then return to the Shadows. The very next morning Oberon rose from his grave, called his banners to war-" Bitterness began to rise in his mouth and Martin spat it out, "- and you all forgot about me."
"You feel torn in your pride."
"Like hell I am!" Martin shot back, "I've been your student for well over 3 years! You, off all people, should know what I'm capable off and at least have asked me along!" The young prince began to pace around, "My entire life, choices were made for me not by me! I helped Gérard because there was no one else to do it - not because I wanted to do the job. And now Random expects I-"
"Then make the choice to ask Random about his expectations instead of assuming his motivations." Benedict calmly interrupted the younger amberite, "You're young. You wish to accomplish great deeds by your own merit and achieve recognition. It's not wrong to have such a mindset. But if you want to lead one day, you'll first have to learn how to follow your betters."
"I don't want to be dependent on others." Martin began to dismiss his mentor.
"You would not be seen as dependent, you'd show yourself to be open-minded. You think I became the best swordsman and strategist in all of Shadow by sulking in a corner all day?"
"No." Martin finally admitted. The young prince looked around and found his mentor had vanished into thin air.
-()-
The basket was filled with crumpled try-outs. Becoming increasingly more frustrated, Martin finally settled for a simple message that would no doubt intrigue his father:
We need to talk.
-Martin
"This message is personally meant for the king," Martin told the summoned servant as he handed him the covered letter, "You would not know where Princess Llewella momentarily keeps herself?"
"I believe she was last seen in the library around mid-day, your highness."
"Hm. That's all." After the servant had taken his leave, Martin girthed his sword and dagger before closing the door of his quarters. The palace was swarming with guards but like his elders, the young prince wanted to be prepared for every possibility.
He finally did found his aunt – not in the library as the servant thought she were but on the terrasse.
"Llewella."
His aunt looked up from her book and a weary smile began to appear on her lips. "Martin."
"May I sit?"
"Off course." Llewella swung her feet upon the ground and gestured to free space next to her.
"I wanted to apologize, for the way I've been behaving to you. I know you mean well. It's just…"
"It has been overwhelming."
Martin hummed. "How did the meeting go after my departure?" The young prince glanced to his aunt, who raised an eyebrow to him.
"You truly wish to know?"
"Else I would not be asking."
Llewella let out a frustrated whine, "As predicted, Moire pressured your father to give in to her demands, he refused-"
"Random refused?!" Martin echoed his aunt in disbelief. This… was not the outcome he expected.
"He put her at the door to be more precise."
Martin narrowed his eyes and gave her a crooked smile. His aunt had talked to Random prior the meeting…
Llewella caught on to his train of thought and the corners of her mouth curled up. "One can only do so much planning. I did not expect for Random to react the way he did when Moire began to push his buttons."
"I am surprised you are not yet in Rebma to dry her tears."
A hint of a smile was visible behind Llewella's cup of tea. "I swore my allegiance to Random at the Abyss," The princess of Rebma took a sip and placed her cup of tea back on the salon table, "And in the past few days, your father has earned my respect for showing much more restraint than Oberon when it comes to indiscretions."
"I heard the rumor circulating around that Bleys is allowed to return."
"He-" Martin followed Llewella's eyes to see Random standing in the shadows. "Your majesty," The princess shot up her feet to courtesy when her younger brother tsked.
"For Pattern's sake, we are not in court," Random reprimanded her, "And I hate to be responsible for cold tea."
"Would you like some yourself? There is still enough for everyone." Llewella gestured to the tea pot.
"Very kind, but no. I need a moment alone with my son."
There had not been a hint of hesitation in his words. Martin could barely recognize the man before him. The manic energy in his eyes had banked down and become more focused, more settled.
"Off course. I needed to be elsewhere anyway," Llewella stood up and walked past her brother.
After the footsteps had died off, Random turned to his son. "Mind If we walk?"
Martin shook his head, still processing the man who stood before him.
"Alright. Come."
"Where to?"
"Somewhere the walls cannot hear us," Random turned on his heel without a further word and Martin hastily followed him. When they did finally arrive at the palace gardens, Martin began to wonder when his father was going to talk. He expected him to open his mouth any second now. But no. Random kept on walking and the palace vanished further and further behind the large oak trees, the hustle and bustle from the court died in the air.
When is he going to open his mouth?! Martin's eyes burned in his father's skull to try and force him to begin this bloody conversation. He'd come to fetch him, so why-
He'd come to his invitation. He was waiting for him to speak. Martin realized with growing discomfort. It shouldn't come as a surprise. He'd demanded an audience with his father, after all. They were alone for the first time ever since his return to the true world. The young prince grimaced as he thought of the awkward journey back.
Their road had been paved by long pauses that his father desperately tried to avoid. He thought he meant well, by showing interest and telling him about his life. But to Martin, It felt more like a hearing than an actual conversation and gradually shut down the closer they came to Amber. He knew about the most recent events that had shaped his father's character – finding Corwin in Shadow Earth, his forced marriage to Vialle, his imprisonment to Eric…
But that were just stories about the people who had formed him, who had been around him. Random hadn't said a single thing about himself. His favorite dish, for example. Which Shadows did Random prefer? Martin knew Random drummed but what music genres did he like?
But now he was waiting and listening. And Martin did not know where to start as he rolled these questions in his head when it suddenly seemed laughable and childish to him to ask about his favorite dishes and music when his father was to become King and he – where did he stand in all of this? What did his father expect of him? Did he desire him as his heir, did he want him to choose between Rebma and Amber? What had he heard about his accomplishments during Gérard's regency? Was he disappointed in what little he had achieved here in Amber or in Shadow?
And why did he suddenly care so much about his father's approval? It wasn't like he had something to prove to Random – in fact, it should be the other way around! His anxiety skyrocketed and rendered the young prince mute for a good while.
"There must be something you wish to talk about."
Martin took a deep breath and decided for a relative open question. "I heard around court that you will abdicate to Gérard."
"You rather ask the court then ask your own father?"
Martin clenched his jaw and increased his strides so his father could not see his burning cheeks. "Right. Forget I asked."
"Martin, wait."
Despite himself, Martin stopped and heard Random's boots thundering towards him.
"That wasn't…" Random halted next to him and Martin could hear a deep sigh, "It wasn't my intent to mock your intelligence. To answer your question – No, I will rule Amber."
Martin didn't want to turn but that decisive tone lured him to face his father. The very same fire was present in his eyes when he'd addressed Llewella earlier and the younger prince shuddered. What had happened or rather caused this transformation? He could only guess. "I'm surprised. I thought you'd be done with it very soon."
"So did I, so did I." Random nodded and offered him a careful smile.
Martin squinted. If his father thought this would magically solve everything, he was mistaken. "But this does not change anything about my decision. I do not want to be part of your court."
"I understand."
Martin let out a bark. "How could you possibly understand me?"
"I don't claim to know you, but I know what it is like to be young. I've known that wanderlust."
"So why do you whisper with Llewella behind my back and concoct my entire future?"
"Your role would not have been brought up at all, if not for Moire's arrival. The relationship between the twin cities has only become more complex now that I am to be King and Llewella shared these concerns with me prior the meeting. She sees great potential in you but fears that her fate will become yours, should you take an active role in court right away and pleaded I'd try to broker peace with your grandmother myself."
Random paused and Martin was glad that he granted him the time to put everything in perspective. But something didn't quite add up in his answer. "You say you do not want me to take an active role in court… yet you gave me orders to examine those Shadow Storms."
"It was never meant that way. The thought simply came to mind that the Shadow Storms might be of academic interest to you, as a bonus you get to know your family and… I just blurted my idea out. Back then, I didn't fully realize the weight my word now bears."
The younger prince let out a breath of relief, releasing the tension from his shoulders he didn't realize he wore. Random didn't seem out to get a vice grip on him like his grandmother still wished to do. "I seemed to have misjudged you as well," Martin slowly replied to order his thoughts, "It is not… that I'm not interested in the Shadow Storms or you. But seeing the way things were going during your meeting with Moire, I-"
You as the living legacy of Morganthe, will continuously remind them by merely being present in Amber's court.
The young prince sighed, "I'm not even legitimized yet and you're already at each other's throats. I think its for the best I vanish in Shadow for a while so I do not influence the politics between the twin cities or blemish your reputation."
Random squinted his eyes and Martin flinched. "You talked with Benedict."
"I did."
"I'm not angry. He obviously means a lot to you."
There was something alike…bitterness that Martin noticed in his father's voice. But before he could contemplate on it, Random suddenly picked up the pace. "Yes, he counseled to indefinitely send you into Shadow or legitimize you if you were to stay in Amber," Random rambled while crossing his arms, "One extreme or another so that we do not get the same confusing mess when Oberon vanished. The latter option we've already thoroughly discussed and therefore is off the table for now. As for the first…"
Martin felt a gut-wrenching feeling sink in his stomach when Random's intense gaze fell on him. Had he changed his mind? Did he want him to leave after all?
"I could indefinitely cast you out of Amber. It would be a very convenient, easy choice… But what king would that make me if I am ashamed to face my own son? I shall accept their mockery and slander, I shall make it my crown and earn their respect the hard way. Hopefully, I can one day be deserving of yours." The intensity in Random's eyes dimmed somewhat, "You are free to come and go as you please, Martin. If you wish to roam the Shadows to your heart's content, then you have my blessing. When you're at court however…" Random wrinkled his nose, "Others will automatically expect you to take up your duties even if I tell them otherwise. So, to prevent any unrest… I'll be obliged to let you investigate those Shadow storms after all."
"But you just said-!"
"Those storms don't just appear inside the golden circle, you know. They appear and vanish throughout various Shadows in a blink of an eye. I expect a lengthy report of your findings
when you swing by in office." A mischievous gleam began to appear in Random's eyes and Martin caught on.
His upcoming duties would not allow his father to simply vanish into Shadow and have a father-son moment, like Merlin and Corwin could. Nor would Random have much leisure time when he were to stay in Amber. But if he were carrying out "a task" on the King's orders, now that gave him a free ticket to his office. And, Martin realized with a growing grin, it kept him with one foot in and outside of court. There would be no target on his back and no expectations until he desired to step forward and claim his birthright.
"And should you ever feel unhappy with your given role, we shall re-evaluate the tasks you've been given."
"I understand." To his surprise, Martin saw his father's shoulders relax when he affirmed his apprehension. So he too had been nervous, Martin thought as a fuzzy feeling began to settle in his stomach. His father found him important enough to waste energy and time for him. "But that discussion will not be for tomorrow," the younger amberite added, "So I suggest you and Vialle get busy in the meantime." His father's steps faltered and Martin stiffened. Had he overstepped his boundaries? But then Random's eyes began to laugh.
"You needn't worry, we barely skipped a night since Patternfall."
Martin thought of his mother, quickly shelved the accompanied pain and managed a quick smile. "Take care of Vialle. She's an amazing woman."
"I'm well aware. Goodbye, Martin." Random's grip was firm yet short.
The moment they let go, Martin hastily turned on his heel. He didn't look behind his shoulder. All that mattered was looking ahead.
It was a hard thing to get rid of one's habits. His survival instinct urged him to never stay long in one place, a month at most, before moving on to the next one. To be in Shadow meant to be hunted – but no longer. Martin forced himself to mingle with the people, soak in their culture and blend in the surroundings. Texorami, Diega, Earth… There was no specific goal in mind when he did visit Flora's favorite Shadow. Off course she'd noted his arrival and offered to travel with him for a little while, if he were willing. He'd said yes.
Big mistake.
After Flora, every single one of his family had caught wind and many offered to travel with him for a while. Caine. Julian. Benedict. Merlin. Martin accepted their company as long as they would not bother him with the politics and the ongoings in Amber. They obliged, came and went before their company became too much.
His freedom eventually began to weight on him though. It was simply too vast and vague to grasp. One can find every desire in Shadow, but what if you do not know your heart? Time ceased to exist. Food no longer had any taste. Alcohol didn't register on his tongue. The splendor of Shadow lost its shine and Martin began to perceive it as it were. Fake. Unreal. At least, so it was for him. For the people around him, their Shadow was their home, their one, true world.
This was not his home.
But Martin did not wish to yield to his sudden homesickness just yet. His born responsibilities would be waiting at home to pounce on him. Above all, Martin wanted to choose what responsibilities he would take for his own and craved to do something that truly mattered.
So, although he was not obliged by his father, he'd taken on the challenge to map the passage of the Shadow Storms to see if he could make out – no pun intended – a pattern.
Shadow turned by father Time.
Much like his visiting family, his study was a welcome distraction for the emptiness and nightmares brewing in his mind.
Ah yes, the nightmares. Brand, knife, Pattern. The usual shtick was there, but now Random and Moire were added to spice things up. They sneered and laughed and threw his destroyed trump at his feet as he bled out upon the Pattern.
"I finally have a son, now." Random had his arms around Vialle's waist and did not even bother to look at him. All their attention was reserved for the squealing baby in Vialle's rocking arms.
"You're banished from Rebma like your father before you." Moire said.
"At least you could have marry him off to some noblewoman in Rebma," Vialle huffed and spared a short glance to the queen of Rebma, "Then he finally would be of some use to us all."
"Aside from donating blood to the Pattern? I sincerely doubt it, love. I think its best we let Brand put him out of his miserable existence."
"Father ple-!"
Martin jolted awake when Brand's knife pierced his heart and the prince frantically began to search his chest. His heart was still beating – he was still breathing. Martin sagged back upon his matrass to recover, rubbed his eyes and swung his feet out of bed. His shirt was sticking to his skin and the young man struggled to peel it off. Come on, get-
With a frustrated growl, Martin ripped the shirt in two and threw the pieces on the ground, still hearing his heartbeat in his ears. Right, time to move to the next stop. Whenever he went somewhere new, be it within the shadow itself or going to a different universe all together, the nightmares would temporarily disappear. It used to take a month or so before they returned. Then 2 weeks. Now, it was barely a week.
The young prince began to haphazardly pack his things when a familiar deck fell out of his backpack. Martin froze as the trumpcards fell out and scattered on the ground. It was his very first deck of cards, a gift from Benedict when he'd said goodbye in his Avalon. Aside from sentimental value, the and that a stranger would possess these family cards. He never understood how they were still so careless about losing these cards. You'd think after Caine hacking these cards, they'd see the dangers for abandoning them. But nope. Slowly Martin squatted, reached for the one nearest to him and-
His fingers froze above the cards the moment they felt the emitting cold. It was like trying to break through a concrete wall. The card was faced upwards and Martin could clearly see it was Julian's. He knew Brand was dead and could hurt him no more. And still his hand refused to pick up a damn card.
Even from the grave, Brand controlled his very life.
Martin shot up, began to pace around in his chamber and kicked from frustration against the wall.
"Oi! Never heard of some quiet?!"
"Oh fuck off!" Martin barked, knowing the walls were thin enough his neighbor could hear, and once again squatted in the midst of his cards.
This. These cards had forced him to notice the ever-growing empty pit in his stomach, this massive burden that he kept hauling around till this day. He'd never stopped running. He fooled everyone, including himself, that he'd moved on and distracted his mind with the occasional family visit and pleasures that the multiverse had to offer. As long as he avoided his demons, he would never heal. The nightmares would never stop.
The Pattern had healed Corwin's amnesia. But if he wanted to find out whether the Pattern could heal his broken mind as well, it was required to return to Amber. And Martin had promised himself not to do so until he were actually, truly ready.
He had so little to offer what they didn't already have. Warfare, magic, seafaring, hunting… it all was in the capable hands of his elders. He didn't even have half their experience. He spend more time in Shadow then in an actual court. How could he be his own man and have a voice, then? Martin let out a grimace. He hated feeling so weak – he still was weak. It was the very reason why Brand chose him to begin with. Amber has no place for him.
So, what now? Keep on running?
The very thought began to crush his shoulders and Martin's homesickness rise to such an unbearable level, the young prince had the actual reflex to gag. He missed the dull predictable routine in Rebma; he missed fencing with Benedict and Llewella's lessons about etiquette and dance; he even yearned for-
Random. Father. King. If anyone could understand what he went through, it would be him. He had not been ready either, he too must have felt tiny among giants… and he had managed to rise above them all.
And should you ever feel unhappy with your given role, we shall re-evaluate the tasks you've been given.
Before he could second-guess himself, Martin wrapped a cloth around both hands and began to shuffle the cards together, safe Random's and shoved them into the deck. After grabbing the little belongings he possessed, Martin forced himself to take up the trump and concentrated on Random's features.
It is Random. It's your father. He is not going to hurt you. He's going to bring you safely through to Amber. Over and over, Martin repeated it in his head so he would not notice the cold bleed on his fingers, so he would not think of the cold floor and the cold knife and the blood… Oh Llyr.. so much blood…
"Father!" Martin began to sob as the coldness began to travel across his arm, sucking him in. Through the rainbow-shimmer, Brand appeared with his knife and Martin struggled to break contact. This was a mistake. He should have never done this, he-why couldn't he break loose?! "Father?! Father, get me through! HEAR ME!"
Random had opened the call without thinking and froze from shock when his son appeared. He'd expected any of his siblings. He'd thought he never- "Martin?!" And then the wails burst through, leaving the king speechless.
"Father!"
"Martin, take my hand!" Random commanded and reached out. "Take my hand, son! It will be alright!"
Martin reached for his hand like a drowning man and the moment Random caught it, the king brought him through the countless dimensions into his office. Immediately, the hysterical prince sagged like a rag doll against his father's chest.
Random shuffled with his feet to maintain balance for the both of them, causing him to bump against his writing desk and wrapped his arms around his wailing son.
"What's-"
"Close the doors, love." Random looked up to his wife, "See to it that no one comes in unannounced, counsel all meetings and come back to us once you're done."
"Right away."
Vialle vanished from view, leaving Random alone. The shaking and sobbing began to lessen now and Random slowly removed Martin to look into his eyes. "Martin?"
Martin, already with flushed cheeks from crying, reddened even more from shame. "Father…" The younger amberite cast his eyes down and tried to find his composure only to burst into tears all over again.
"Easy, easy, boy…" Uncomfortable at the emotions his son so plainly dared to show, Random patted his back, guided the young man to the nearest seat and stood up once again.
Martin was still too much in a trance to notice his father had left his side and gasped when he felt something cold being pushed in his hands. Before his fingers could drop the beverage, Random's slim hands curled around his own.
"Drink up."
Martin blinked, finally noticing it was a glass and not a card. "I'm not in the mood to drink," Random's grip tightened around his hands when he tried to place it upon the table.
"Its to calm the nerves. Believe it or not, you're in shock. Go on, drink."
Martin took a deep breath, put the glass to his lips and swallowed it in one go. Immediately, the alcohol surged like fire through his esophagus and the young prince began to cough. "What in Llyr's name-"
"I said to drink not to swallow it." Random shook his head, retrieved the glass with a slightly crooked smile and placed it on the table.
As the fire dwindled to a prickling sensation, Martin turned his attention to his surroundings. He'd been in his father's quarters once to see Vialle and he didn't remember his chamber to be this spacious and with such decorum. Martin's eyes travelled from what must be the entrance to Random's bedchambers, to the large oaken table with two high chairs, to where they were seated. The 'table' Random had put his glass on, was in fact a writing desk with papers scattered all over the place. On the far end, Martin could make out a burning candle, the necessary wax and the royal seal of Amber.
Oh shit.
Martin's eyes shot to his father and saw a less pompous version of Oberon's crown adorning his head. "You're-"
Random nodded, undid himself of the crown he wore and carelessly flung it upon his writing desk. "Oberon's was a monstrosity to wear at the coronation," The king explained while leaning back in his chair, "And since I very much want to prevent looking like Dworkin in a couple of years, I had another made."
Martin merely returned a smile as a response.
"You want me to contact Llewella?" Random finally asked when it was clear his son would not start the conversation, "You want me to-"
"If I wanted to speak to my aunt, I'd not have trumped you, would I?" Martin bit out before he could stop himself.
"… right."
Martin's eyes flickered to his father. He didn't know this man before him. All that connected them was that he came from his seed. In their last meeting, Martin had kept him at arm's length. But now?! If he dared to cross this threshold, if he poured out his fears and wants and needs…
But you already have shown yourself. Martin winced, remembering his own wails and pleas. No. Too big a subject to tackle this early in the evening. Take something else, something smaller and see how he responds. The fact that he hadn't shooed or scolded at you, was something, isn't it?
Martin took a deep breath. "I've visited this Shadow Earth you and Corwin were so fond about."
"Oh. What did you think of it?"
Martin let out a sigh of relief that his father was willing to go with his flow, relaxed in his chair and at first began to talk about his adventures in Shadow. The conversation slowly began to shift into the subject of the Shadow Storms when Vialle gently interrupted that she'd brought them a meal. It was only then that Martin realized it was already growing dark outside. "That's really kind of you, but I'm not-" The young prince was immediately hushed by the blind woman.
"It wouldn't be kind to let this food go to waste."
Martin sighed and glanced to his chuckling father who gestured to the set table. "I've long expended every argument I could think off," the king said while standing up. As he passed his wife, Random placed a kiss on her forehead.
"You have?"
Random sighed at the awfully smug tone of his wife and shook his head. "Unicorn, I've ruined you."
"In the best way." Vialle added before stepping on her toes and returning a kiss of her own. "Enjoy."
"You will not join us?" Martin asked somewhat disappointed.
"I have a sculpture that I desperately wish to finish this evening," Vialle halted, her pale eyes looking in the direction of Random's son. "Goodnight, in case we do no longer meet this day."
"Goodnight, Vialle."
"Night, Vialle." Random added. The king watched her vanish before seating himself at the table.
"Alright… where were we again?" Martin mirrored his father and reached for a piece of bread.
"You were theorizing the storms reshape the very order of these Shadows."
"Hm-hm." Martin swallowed his bite and spread out the geography map he'd made. Only, it did not consist of lakes, altitudes and mountains but of shadows ranging from small to primal and the opposing poles of Chaos and Order. "First, I began to travel to different primal shadows," The prince explained and tapped a few of them so his father could follow, "They appear to be more resilient to the magnetics of Amber and Chaos… more firmly rooted to that very place." Martin elaborated when Random began to frown, "But the smaller ones…" Martin tapped another one, "Like Vestar for example, it used to be located around…."
Random followed the finger of his son and whistled when he noted the distance. "How did you notice the way the shadows shift?"
"I remained in shadows next to Vestar and did the same for the following shadows – here, here and here," Martin indicated with his knife, "All with more or less the same time frame, off course, considering my very presence would make those shadows more real. And once I charted out their start and end point, well…" Martin quietened down to let his father soak in the map.
"It looks to me…" Random's eyes followed the lines which all converged to a single point, "That looks to be the place where Corwin drew his Pattern."
"I haven't checked it out yet so I can't say for certain. The ride would be a waste of energy and time anyway - We do not have access to Corwin's multiverse."
"You can't, but Merlin possibly could." Random stretched his spine, cracked his neck and leaned against the back of his chair.
"Possibly?"
"He plans on taking the Pattern here in Amber. We've been having talks back and forth between Suhuy."
"And? Will he allow it?"
The king wheezed, "It is not so much his blessing that Merlin needs. No, the possibility exists the Pattern either forces the Logrus out OR destroys him all together. I would normally not risk his life but-"
Martin's jaw dropped. "Don't tell me you are actually considering this?! Father?" Random's silence told him all. The younger amberite shot from his chair and began to pace around. "You are! You fucking are!"
"Martin, sit and calm down. It's not as easy-"
"Calm down?! You're talking as if he's but a fucking lab rat!"
"Sit. Down." Random's eyes wiped the scowl from his son's face and the two silently regarded one another. "Such attitude will not bring you answers. I've listened to your story, now you will listen to mine."
Martin grumbled, flopped on his chair and stared hard to the leftovers of his plate.
"When I gave my blessing, I was unaware Merlin was already initiated to the Logrus. The kid probably thought it would not be a big deal," Random grumbled somewhat to himself before refocusing back to his tale, "Anyhow, I was not as confident as your cousin and would have forbidden him entirely, if not for Corwin. As of now, Merlin is oblivious to his disappearance and everyone involved – which includes me, Fiona, Suhuy and Dworkin - want to keep it that way till we've thoroughly discussed all the possible outcomes and dangers to him. I do not want the kid to recklessly jump on the Pattern and die for some fruitless rescue mission." Random let out a irritated whine at the deadpanned stare of his son. "His situation is hardly comparable to mine. I am not an initiate of the Logrus. And unlike Merlin, I knew the risks I was undertaking."
"I am not saying anything."
Random sniffed his nose. "My own example aside, I want Merlin to know what risks he's taking. If he still wants to walk the Pattern after our discussion – great! If not, well… then we'll see from there."
"So…Corwin's gone."
"Again," The king confirmed after he took a sip of his wine. "We tried the same shtick as with Brand by simultaneously using his trump. Nada." Random glanced to his son.
It was an offer, Martin realized, an opening he that he could take if he wished so. The young prince swallowed. "I've never thanked you."
Random blinked. "For what would that be?"
"Moire was never so… free-spirited concerning my upbringing or considerate to my wishes." Martin stood up to move towards the more comfortable chairs and heard Random mirror him. The necessary sounds were made to take their glasses and wine along as well. "I appreciate the space and time you've given me. There was… much to think about."
"I hope it helped."
"Yes… and no." Martin moved his glass and watched the wine swirl, "For the first time in a long…long while, I could travel the Shadows without continuously looking behind my back. It allowed me to actually look around instead of just passing by. It's just…" The young prince quietened, "I am not sure whether it's because I slowed down but everything seemed-"
"- unreal? Like you're walking around in a dollhouse with mannequins and carton-made furniture?"
Martin shuddered at the comparison. "Yes, that description comes close enough."
Random hummed. "It scared the hell out of me the first time around. We all gain that perception once you start to examine the Shadow more closely. But when you stop focusing on those details, those imperfections then that discomfort will… Well, I will not say that it will completely disappear but it will become manageable."
"Oh sure! I'll do that in a second!"
The king sniggered at Martin's sarcastic reply. "You ever saw the rabbit-duck illusion from "Fliegende Blätter"? No? If you see for example the duck, you may need to actively choose to work on seeing the rabbit too. And once you do you can then choose which you see at any given point. It is the same with Shadow, only in this case you chose to either block out the imperfections or not."
"Hm. I'll keep it in mind."
"Do that."
The young prince sipped his wine and let the silence grow for a little while. "It is not just the imperfections of Shadow that brought me here." There. He'd finally managed to say it. Martin took another sip of wine to gather his courage. "I've had… disturbing dreams. Nightmares. About Brand hunting me down and-" Martin took a shuddering breath, "-and letting me bleed to death upon the Pattern. When I wake up, I see reflections of him skulking and following me throughout the Shadows… with red hair, green garments…" The young prince dared to look up, saw a raging inferno in Random's irises and quickly averted his eyes. Here it comes…
"I beg the Unicorn every day to return Brand and grant me the pleasure to kill him all over again. For what he's done to you, for what he is still doing to you, I-" The king quelled his rage when he saw Martin's head hanging low. He was not the one in need of spilling his heart out…
"I've come to you because you're the only one who could possibly understand me, because I need your advice. All I've ever known is to travel around in Shadow and run from my manifesting nightmares. Seeing those imperfections in Shadow made me realize just how much I yearn for a home, for somewhere to settle, to do something that matters, but I'm afraid-"
"- that you are not ready." Random quietly completed.
Martin nodded. "I did not know how to tell you," the prince confessed, "Because I feared you might think me less of a son and crown prince. The role of king fitted you so easily-"
Random softly laughed. "Easy? Kid, I was paralyzed from the stress. I was scared to make mistakes, scared not being good enough, scared to turn out an even worse king then my dad…"
"So what changed?"
Instead of answering him, Random reached for his crown and held it out to his son. "Put it on."
"What?" Martin gaped at the crown, looked at the king, back at the crown again. Was he serious?
"Go on."
Slowly, Martin took it in his fingers and once again looked at Random for his permission. When he nodded, the prince took a deep breath and placed it upon his head.
"How do you feel?"
"I don't know… nervous, I guess." Martin shifted uncomfortably in his seat from Random's intense gaze.
"Why?"
"Because I'm wearing the crown."
"Oh…" Random tapped his chin, "Well, its understandable off course, it's your first time. But do you feel… different?"
"Different how?"
"You tell me. Better, stronger… More regal?"
"Not… really, no."
Random's eyebrows knitted together. "Huh. That's odd." The king reached out, took the crown from Martin's head and inspected it more closely. "You must have broken its spell somehow." Random said while shaking it around.
"Wha-" Before Martin could ask what his father meant, the crown creaked and bended underneath Random's fingers. "What are you doing?!" Horrified, Martin saw the crown become little more than a crumpled piece of gold.
"What does it look like?" Random calmly flung the destroyed crown to his paper basket, only for it to bounce off and roll under the furniture. "Dang it." The king muttered before turning to his shocked son. "Everyone somehow assumes power resides within a crown. For them, they are one and the same, like the rabbit and duck." Random halted in front of his son, "The moment when you rule yourself here-" The king said as he poked Martin's forehead, before moving to his chest, "and here… that's when you wield actual power. Because then it can never be used to hurt you ever again."
"I understand what you are saying but that's hardly an answer how to make my nightmares vanish."
"Or maybe, it is not the answer you wanted," Random replied as he noted his son's disappointment, "What then, was the solution you thought about?"
"If you don't agree, why ask me anyway?"
"Martin…" A slither of amusement slipped in Random's voice before the King turned serious again. "I do not want you to be fearful to speak your mind to me. The only stupid questions are those who are never asked."
"Considering how the Pattern could heal Corwin's amnesia… I assumed it can do the same for me."
Random hummed, "A logical theory. But I am afraid the Pattern does not work in such a manner. It makes us more of who we are and refines your very self. Therefore, your fears and nightmares too will be refined within you. I do not think it wise to walk it, at least not until you have your fears more under control." Seeing his son becoming more disheartened by the second, Random leaned forward. "Instead of focusing the things you can not do, focus on what you have. You've done quite the research on these Shadow Storms – Don't just shelve your theories upon some bookshelf and let it gather dust. Bleys would be particularly interested."
"Brand's brother."
"Yes, Brand's brother." Random's voice became firm when he picked on Martin's bitterness. He and Fiona were given amnesty by me."
"What's next, you are going to give them a mourning bouquet?"
"If you want to belong somewhere, you'll have to commit to its household and follow rules. You are welcome to share these thoughts with me but do not mistake it as permission to act upon them. Am I clear so far?"
Martin clenched his jaw and nodded, "Yes."
"Good." Random's face softened somewhat, "I did not propose this to pester you, Martin. In my opinion, the only way to get rid of those nightmares is to confront these unpleasant feelings instead of clinging to them."
"…I'll try."
"That's all I ask." Random returned a smile now.