Chapter 4

The Heir is Revealed

The next several years seemed to pass slowly. Quatre could hardly bear his confinement. Pertania tried all she could to ease his troubled mind, but she had been old when he was born, and wasn't getting any younger. She wasn't able to do her rounds as birthing nurse anymore because she had trouble with all the walking she was expected to do. She was even having trouble some days just moving about the house. Quatre was very worried about her, but whenever he would ask how he could help her, she always replied that she didn't need any help and that she was just fine. Her deterioration was becoming so bad that she couldn't go into town anymore for food. When Quatre offered to do it for her, she flatly refused. If Kuatron ever found out that Quatre had left the house he would most likely forget about the importance of bloodlines and kill Quatre on the spot. Instead Pertania called on one of her relatives that lived in town to bring her food. The relative readily agreed, but because they didn't know that Quatre was living with Pertania they only brought enough food for one person.

Pertania would beg Quatre to eat more of the little food they were brought, but he insisted that her health was more important. Because of this, Quatre often went hungry.

When Quatre turned fourteen, Pertania took a turn for the worse. She came down with an awful cold that put her into her bed for several weeks. During that time, her relative from the city would come and check on her and make her food every day. Quatre was forced to hide in the tiny attic of the cottage until the relative left. Sometimes this wouldn't be for several hours. To amuse himself while he was trapped in the attic he would practice with his gift, something he had not been allowed to do since the incident with the window years ago. Sometimes he would try little things like making the dust motes fly around the room as if they were caught in some miniature tornado. Sometimes though he would hold out his hands and will some of his energy into his hands. The feeling that it gave him was the same as when he had broken the window. It was a sort of high, floaty feeling that gave him and enormous sense of power. He would turn that energy in a blue orb that fit in the palm of his hands. He could control that energy by concentrating on it. He would then make it sort of evaporate into the air only leaving behind a few blue sparks that drifted to the dusty floor and went out. Every time he would do this though, it would make Quatre very tired. He decided that the only way to overcome his tiredness was to practice a lot with it. This wasn't hard because he had a lot of time to practice.

One day Quatre finally reached a point in his practicing where he didn't feel tired and unenergetic after summoning forth his power. He felt very pleased with this achievement, but knew that the energy he was summoning wasn't very strong. It was only about as strong as that he had used to break the window with. Any stronger and he would begin to feel a little weak after summoning it. He was proud though that he had been able to control the power so much though. It wasn't simply a random off let to his emotions anymore. Every night after Pertania's caretaker had left Quatre would climb down from the attic. He would check on Pertania before getting some food for himself. Every day she seemed so much paler and she looked so different just lying motionless on her bed, too weak to even sit up. Looking at her made Quatre's heart ache for love of her, and disgust for his father whose orders had made it impossible for him even to care for her most of the time. One thing that Quatre had a lot of time to do in the attic besides practicing with his gift was to think. He would sit and think of his life and about his family. He would sit and listen too. Listen to the sound of Pertania's hacking, rasping coughs coming from the bedroom below.

----------

Every day Kuatron would sit with his stepson and teach him all that he thought he should know about the island and about how he was to rule it. The boy though seemed to care more about his sports and the girls that would call upon the mansion to see him. One day Kuatron became angry at Romsk's inattention to his studies and asked him if he truly thought he wanted to be the heir or not.

Romsk replied that he did, but why did Kuatron have to get so angry at him? He was listening, but he wanted more than to just study all the time. He knew about the island, and the people, and its traditions. Couldn't he just go then and talk to his friends?

Kuatron was upset at his stepson's lack at interest for learning. He would only be young and able to do the sports he wanted to for a little while longer. Then what would he do? He wouldn't be athletic for his whole life so he might as well start learning how to do what he would have to do the rest of his life and stop wasting time on foolish activities. He was seventeen anyway. Now more than ever he had to start acting like an heir because he would be one as of the next year.

Iria spent a lot of time with Romsk too. She always supported him in all of his physical activities. The episode at the party seemed to be forgotten. Iria was also happy now that Romsk would be the heir. She had worried for a while that her third cousin would inherit the throne. That cousin was as mean as he was stupid, and he would have turned Cailon into awful place to live even with Kautron's teachings. Another one of Iria's worries was what she was expected to do with the rest of her life. Her father wanted her to marry, but so far there weren't any men that she liked particularly. The advantage though was that as the oldest her father couldn't choose for her. If she wanted to remain unmarried, then she could.

It wasn't until about a month before the ceremony in which Romsk would be announced heir that Iria began to think of Quatre again. She felt that he would have been nothing like Romsk. This thought gave her mixed feelings. She liked Romsk, but he thought about himself too much, and didn't really think about other people's feelings. She tried to imagine what her brother would have looked like and always received the image of a small person, like their mother, with kind eyes, and a caring heart. Thinking of Quatre only made Iria sad though, so she tried to just focus on Romsk and accepting him as her new brother. Romsk simply took her attention as being due to his good looks and incredible athletic ability.

All too soon the week before the Heir's Ball, or so it was called, had come and everyone was busy preparing for it. Cailon had not had such a celebration in many years. All of the cooks of the royal family were up before dawn every morning and didn't retire from their work until well after midnight. They were working to their best potential to ensure that this Heir's Ball would never be forgotten. The rest of the servants were busy preparing bedrooms for the quests that would be arriving during the week. Distant family would be coming from all over and would need a place to stay. Not to mention all of the captains of all the ships who were making one of their two trips a year to Cailon. They came for a double purpose: to bring the guests who didn't live on the island, and to do trading because the people of the island would be looking for new items to wear and exotic foods to eat in celebration of the ball. As was custom, the whole island had been invited to attend the ball. Only those who were too old or too young didn't attend. The Heir's Ball was a celebration everyone had been waiting for ever since the birth of Quatre, and then after Kuatron had gained a step son. When the bulk of the guests did arrive, the only topic of all conversations was Romsk. This seemed reasonable because the celebration was in honor of him after all, but soon the guests tired of hearing about Romsk because the same stories of his physical achievements had been circulated around and were becoming quite dull after the third or fourth telling. The conversation than began to shift in another direction. This topic though was whispered to one another in case Kuatron might overhear. This conversation was about Quatre and people worried that if Kuatron were to hear them discussing it he would become upset because it was a very sad point of conversation. The last thing they wanted was for Kuatron to be reminded of his dead son on such a happy occasion. People still discussed Quatre though, and in doing so they tried to see if Quatre would have been anything like Romsk. Most people came to the conclusion though that Quatre would have been nothing like Romsk. Most saw him as Iria had: a youthful fifteen year old with his mother's eyes and his father's blonde hair. They murmured to themselves about how he had died and how awful it must have been for Kuatron. They soon began to feel deeply sorry that the child had died because he sounded so much more interesting than Romsk.

Even with all the talk of Quatre though, the ceremony still had to proceed with Romsk as the heir. The women began to pull out their best dresses from their traveling bags and the men went into town to buy things for themselves and their wives that would distinguish them from the rest of the quests. Another item that had to be purchased was a mask. To make the celebration's more fun, the Ball organizers had decided that it should be a masked ball. Everyone agreed that this was a wonderful idea and would surely make this ball something special. In Pertania's cottage Quatre thought that this was a good idea too and agreed that this ball would be something that no one would forget.

----------

As Pertania lay motionless in her bed, unable to muster the strength to sit up anymore, she listened to the sound of Quatre as he paced across the floor in the living room. He seems to do that a lot she thought. She couldn't fault him for it though because she knew that he had a lot on his mind with the Heir's Ball drawing closer. Just the thought of the ball though made Pertania's heart pound with anxiety. She was so worried about Quatre and that he might fail just when it was so important to succeed. Her thoughts were interrupted by Quatre who had come in with her dinner. He sat on the edge of her bed very carefully and shot worried looks in her direction as he moved the table closer that supported the food.

"You know...Quatre...you'll...wear the floor out...with all that pacing, "she said, gasping for breath between each couple of words.

"You really shouldn't try to talk," he answered in a busy manner that didn't quite hide the worry he felt for her. "You should try to save your strength and focus on getting better."

"Oh, Quatre, "she said smiling," I'm not going to get better. I'm old...and I haven't got...much longer to live. I don't want you...to worry because...you have enough to worry about...with the ball tomorrow night. Think about that...and not about me."

After Quatre had left Pertania's room that night, he couldn't seem to stopworrying about her, no matter what she said. She just couldn't die and leave him.

Quatre suddenly felt a deep fear. What was to happen should she die? She had been his only contact with the human world. What would he do then? Where would he go?

His frenzied thoughts halted when he realized that he did have somewhere he could go, someplace he had to go. The ball was a little under twenty four hours away. In twenty four hours he would have a home. One that his birth ensured him to. With that thought, he flopped down on his bed and fell into a restless sleep.

----------

The cooks and servants awoke even earlier than they had been to prepare for the big day. The guests too were restless and tried to talk in quiet proper tones. Few succeeded. The feeling in the air caused everyone to be so excited that they felt that the evening celebrations would never come. Little children ran and screamed over the wide cobblestone paths playing games of tag. Their mothers tried to call them to order, but they themselves were exited and in good spirits. The men stood together in groups of three to four. They were clothed in their second best suits. Their best suits were to be worn that evening. They twirled their long moustaches and smoked sweet smelling pipes.

The day dragged on slower and slower. Romsk paced up and down the long halls, a small smile on his handsome face. It was one of those smiles that told Iria that Romsk's mind was anywhere but in the mansion. The young girls from the island would peer in through the windows and giggle at Romsk.

Quatre was also pacing the floor. His mind spun with everything that he had to remember and what he had to do. From behind Pertania's door came her rasping coughs. They had gotten so bad that it was now impossible for her to fully regain her breath after a coughing spell before another one started. Unlike Romsk, Quatre wasn't smiling. His brows were furrowed and his face was tense. His mouth was set in a hard line. His usually expressive eyes were clouded with fear and apprehension. He wondered if what he was planning to do was the right thing. Was it possible that Pertania had just told him that story of him being the heir so that she could live at the mansion again? No that couldnt be it. She wouldn't have still been so adamant about it if that was her reason because it was very possible that she would die soon. Also, she had never lied to him about anything else before. She wouldn't do that to him. He nodded his head in decision and then went to his room to change into his ball attire. Besides, anything would be better than staying in the old cottage for the rest of his life.

----------

Finally the ball was about to start. The doors to the huge ballroom were thrown open. The guests met the decor of the room with loud exclamation's of awe and wonder. From ceiling to floor the room was lit with candles. Long cream sheets of material crept up the walls and disappeared into the high rafters of the room.

Flowers were also very numerous and it was as if the room was a field of flowers. The guests streamed in, whispering lest they disturb the atmosphere of the beautiful room they found themselves in. As more people came in the quests became bolder and started mingling together and talking in polite social tones. The room was soon buzzing with the chatter of the excited people. The quartet in the corner started up a lively concerto. Then the royal family came in through one of the side doors. The girls were bedecked in the most extravagant clothing that most had ever seen. Even the richest women who was a guest there seemed bland in comparison to the stunningly beautiful Winner girls. There high boned facial features were hidden though by the masks that they wore. Their masks had been specially designed to match the shade and texture of each of their dresses. The guests clapped with immense enthusiasm for them, and then went back to their conversations. Most guests were so caught up in their small talk or the decorations that they didn't even notice as a young man clothed in royal blue and a plain black mask with a long flowing cape that was customary for men of his age to wear came into the ballroom. He walked slowly around the ballroom always keeping away from the center of the room where most of the people were gathered and ignoring any conversations that were directed his way. Most ignored him though. He was dressed too plainly to be important enough to talk to. Plus he was very young. The older couples distinctly ignored any of the younger guests.

Quatre's breath came out slow and steady, but he was feeling anything but calm. Suddenly the room seemed too hot and crowded. He went and sat down at a table as far away as he could from the rest of the guests. He watched the swirl of people going by, women in their extravagant clothing and men with their shoes polished and clothing stiff and formal. Occasionally a couple would walk by that looked not much older than himself. They looked at each other in youthful adoration and blushed constantly. Quatre began to feel very lonely. He walked out into the crowds of people to somehow include himself, but he still seemed lost, out of place.

"This is where I belong," he said quietly to himself. "Why then do I feel so strange here?" He took a deep breath and continued his nervous walk around the ballroom.

Iria sat stiff in her high backed chair on the raised platform. Her other sisters had long since left their seats to dance with the young men attending the ball and also Romsk. Thinking of Romsk she searched him out among the other dancers. He wasn't hard to miss. He wore a beautiful red suit with matching cape that was tailored to fit him perfectly so that it was long but not so long that it was drag on the floor. He was dancing with a girl in a yellow dress. Even though his face was masked she was sure that he would be enjoying this whole experience immensely. Unlike Romsk, Iria's face was set in a hard grim line. The past days had been especially difficult on her. Romsk had become more and more self centered and if possible more egotistical as his ball became closer and closer. Iria wasn't so sure anymore that Romsk would be right for Cailon. Her step mother then struck up a conversation with her in her high nasally voice. Iria listened quietly, but her thoughts weren't on the conversation.

The quartet ended their piece with a high reverberating note and then the players quietly set aside their instruments and turned to face the platform. The guests catching this cue all turned to face the platform as well as leaving a semi circle of space between themselves and the stage. Kuatron stood up slowly from his broad chair and beckoned Romsk closer to the platform where he had been standing awaiting the moment when he would be recognized.

The crowded quieted down but the room was still buzzing with excitement. Kuatron cleared his throat and stared down at Romsk. Romsk removed his mask and moved forward so that he was standing side by side with Kuatron. His handsome face radiated with a look of supreme victor. Iria looked down at the floor between her feet.

Clearing his throat again Kuatron began his speech, "It is my great privilege to welcome you all here to this joyous occasion today. Today is a very special day because today is the day that I announce my heir to the throne of Cailon. This has been Cailon's custom ever since my ancestors came to this island. I would now like to bestow this great honor on..."

Kuatron's voice trailed off and all the assembly turned away from him to see what had happened. Standing in front of the platform in plain sight was a young manclothed in a royal blue suit. Slowly he removed the dark mask that had concealed his face and flung it aside. Kuatron's hand flew up to his mouth. He stumbled backward and landed in his chair. Staring back at him were sea green eyes. Those assembled became deathly quiet. The position the young man had took was very significant. It meant that he challenged the naming of the heir. This had never happened in the history of Cailon before. They all stood looking at this young man who was not more than fourteen or fifteen years old.

Quatre stood staring up at his father, his eyes never leaving his face. He was trembling all over, he could feel the perspiration trickling down the back of his suit but his hands felt ice cold. Romsk looked from Kuatron down to the boy standing defiantly in front of him.

"What, what is this?" he demanded of Kuatron. His words broke through the silence like shards of glass.

Iria stood up suddenly behind Romsk. Romsk turned to look at her but her eyes were focused on the person beyond him. Quatre tore his gaze from his father and stared at Iria. She wore a look of confusion and tears were streaming down her pretty face. Quatre gave a small nod of his head and took a step forward to the platform and stopped.

"Who are you, and what do you think you are doing?" Romsk said looking just as confused as Iria.

Quatre breathed in a deep breath,"My name is Quatre Winner."

The crowd let out a gasp. Kuatron pulled himself shakily to his feet, "You, you liar! You scum! How dare you say that you are my son! My son died!"

"Yes he did die!" came Quatre's icy reply. "He died to the world, because of you."

"What are you saying?" Kuatron's face had become very red.

"I'm saying that I know exactly what you did," said Quatre trying to keep his free of emotion.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything..."

"How can you continue to lie to me, now of all times!" burst out Quatre. "Pertania told me everything. Everything! All I have to ask of you is why?

"I...I don't know what you are saying..."

"You know exactly what I am saying. Now I want an answer or I will tell every one here myself," was Quatre's demand.

In a deathly whisper that only Quatre heard, Kuatron replied, "Alright. You want an answer? I'll give you an answer. You took away the one person that meant more to me than life itself. You took her away!"

"You hold me responsible of that? You condemned me to live out my life locked away from sight of anyone before you even knew me? Do you know what it was like for me? To live everyday not able to go outside, to have any friends, to not really live? Do you know what it was like knowing that your father hated you so much that he wouldn't allow you ever to be seen, ever to be known to exist? No. I guess you wouldn't." Quatre finished, his voice hoarse with feeling and his body shaking so badly he had trouble standing.

The guests stood in quiet confusion trying to absorb all that Quatre had said. Iria's sob broke through. Quatre looked up at her, the anger dying out of his eyes. She stepped down from the platform and stared Quatre in the eyes, her cheeks wet with crying.

She reached out and placed a hand on Quatre's arm. Quatre reached up with his trembling hand and brushed the tears from her cheeks. Iria sobbed quietly and then placed her arms around Quatre's shoulders. Her held her gently until she had cried herself out. Quatre held her out from him. She turned to face her father.

"Iria, I want you to step away from him now. Did you here me? Get away from him!" Kuatron roared.

"No, I won't do it," she said.

"Then I will force you to! Guards take this imposter away!"

Several guards came forward and grabbed Quatre's arms. Iria was pushed roughly aside.

"Father you can't!" screamed Iria.

"I can and I have," he said curtly.

"But he's your son," she sobbed.

"I have no son. As he said, my son died fourteen years ago," he said his voice now closed to emotion.

The guards continued to pull Quatre away from the platform. The shocked and confused guests quickly made a path for the guards to come through. Quatre struggled against them, but the trained men were too strong for him.

"Father please!" he cried his voice now hoarse with emotion, "Father please don't send me away! "

Iria rushed forward trying to pry the guards off Quatre but again she was pushed aside. "Quatre, don't leave me!"

"Iria get back here now!" bellowed Kuatron. "Guards take him away! Take the murderer away!"

At his last statement Quatre lost all control of himself. The anger and sorrow he had been feeling exploded in a violent action. A blue light enveloped him and then burst forth throwing off the four men and knocking them back into the crowd with such force that they landed unconscious on the marble floor.

The crowd gave a hushed gasp and several women fainted into their husbands arms. Quatre stood trembling all over. Anger flashed in his eyes. He felt so weak that he felt he would faint as well but he managed somehow to remain standing. He turned his eyes up to Kuatron.

"Get...get out of here. Get out you freak!" Kuatron said in a deathly whisper that carried to the back of the hall. Quatre turned slowly and walked with as much dignity as he could to the doors of the room and exited. Iria fell to the floor and cried.