Snippets of Destiny
By Leoni Venter
Based on Oblivion by Bethesda Softworks
Part 4: Letting go
Beran frowned.
Martin, watching him anxiously, plunged ahead. "It's the one thing I'm really good at, Father," he tried to explain. "I want to learn more."
Beran shook his head. "It's too dangerous. Besides, you have your responsibilities here on the farm."
He turned away as if that ended the discussion, and Martin bit back bitter words as he shot a pleading look at Lark, sitting quietly in the corner. Lark spread his heads to indicate his helplessness, and Martin suddenly could not stand to be in the room any longer.
"I'll go see to my responsibilities, then," he said quietly to mask his anger, and turned and went outside.
"You'll lose him if you don't let him go," Lark said mildly as the door swung shut.
Beran rounded on him. "You! You caused this! You encouraged him in this madness!"
Lark stood up to confront Beran on equal height. "His talent is in his blood, Beran. I would not dare suppress it and neither should you. You will have to face some hard facts today. Martin is not your son; his destiny and legacy are not to be hindered by such as you and I. Can you really see him growing old here on this farm, surrounded by cows?"
"I could wish such peace for him," Beran said hoarsely. "But tell me the truth today – if today I must face facts. Who is Martin's father? For I know that you know who it is."
Lark took a moment to answer. When he did, his voice was low and steady. "You also know that I can't tell you that. Suffice it to say that he is noble born and leave it at that." At Beran's reluctant nod he continued. "Martin is like a flame in darkness; if you refuse his dreams you will douse that flame and the world will be a darker place."
Beran sighed and sat down, gesturing for Lark to do the same. "I just want him to be safe," he said earnestly.
"I know that," Lark said. "But I really think you'll do better to let him pursue his dreams. He is too young to be content with the simple life you offer him. If you refuse him, he will run away to do his own thing, and you won't see him again." He pushed a hand through his hair. "What do you have against the Mages Guild in any case? It's an honourable profession, and Martin is more than old enough to become an apprentice."
"My youngest brother joined the Guild," Beran explained. "He was so excited about it, about the things he learned and the work he did. One day he was sent on some errand and was attacked by necromancers. My brother was slain in some old ruin, still in his youth. He had never really lived his life. I can't stand the thought of Martin..."
"I'm sorry," Lark said awkwardly as Beran choked to silence. "I can understand how you feel."
"I don't think you can," Beran said, his eyes flashing. "You did not raise my boy from infancy. You did not soothe his fears, you did not ..."
"No, I did not," Lark interrupted. "But I am his friend and I love him as a brother. I do not wish to see him come to any harm, but I also don't wish to see his spirit broken."
Beran lowered his eyes. "I am sorry, Lark. You are right. You have been nothing but a friend to us and I have no right to talk as I did."
Lark smiled. "It's alright, my friend. I do understand." He stood up. "I must go. It is getting dark and I have to sing tonight. You will talk to Martin, won't you?"
"That I will," Beran replied. "I may not like it, but you are right about Martin. I will let him do what he wants." He clapped Lark on the shoulder. "You are a wiser man than I."
"Not wiser," Lark said. "But perhaps more objective in this matter. You are a sensible man, Beran. I would hate to see your heart ignore your head and cause you unnecessary pain."
"That sounds cold," Beran said.
"It is, and it isn't," Lark smiled. "If I was wise, I would be able to explain it better." He picked up his lute, forgotten next to his chair. "Goodbye, my friend."
When he got outside he found Martin in the stables, currying the horses. In stead of speaking Lark gave him a grin, a thumbs-up and a gesture to go into the house. Martin's eyes widened incredulously, then he turned and dashed for the door.
Lark laughed to himself as he saddled Pavan for the ride back to town.
Disclaimer: All of Oblivion belongs to Bethesda Softworks. I'm just letting my mind wander through time a bit...