Across the ocean Book 1: On the run

Chapter Seven : To Mildoyest

What Mayen experienced that night before the wedding went, alas, into the silence of forgotten memories. Despite the stress and the emotions, though many and diversified they had been that day, the boy had wanted something, and that thing had been just that, to forget about the eye. Only in the world of dreams had he failed to eradicate its image, but those nightmares were few and so unreal that they became senseless. One year later, this eye which had troubled him deeply now became but a triviality; in the end, it did not exist for him.

The current date was Thursday the twentieth of the month of Windor, year 3'405. It was also the very first day of Summer. Almost a full year had passed since the wedding of Mayen's older brother, and many details had changed. His bedroom now was on the first floor, taking the space Mewen once had. The attic now had a free bed for travellers year-round. Meals were somewhat boring without a sibling. His brother never woke him up anymore, but that barely was a change for no one almost ever woke before Mayen; nonetheless, the first few occasions it did happened had been awkward. Maybe the most trivial detail of it all was actually the most apparent after ten months : the number of people was an unpair number.

Curiously enough, both Rowen and Mayen had expected the dagger and the dream of Commendar Spencer to have been a major source of change. The boy had revealed his parents the dagger and what Commendar Spencer had disclosed to him, believing they had a right to know. At first, Lauria had been beyond herself and had not just burnt the evening meal, she had literally turned it to charcoal. As days went, however, the initial shock which had been like a fire had been quelched to smoke. For now, neither the dagger nor the vision had had any tangible repercussions. Of course, all of it was kept secret from the villagers, even from Mewen.

Mayen had turned sixteen on the first day of the of Yoven, which had been last month. Sixteen and still no future wedding arrangements. Rowen intended to remedy the situation. Both of Mayen's parents remained healthy, and yet they knew one day death would come and their son would need a home of his. Home was synonym of family, of where one did more than just sleep and live. Home, Kastosians would say, was where one belonged to. Home was where you were born and, in best circumstances, would die out of age. At home, you cared for them and them for you in return. Home was more than simply a house; home was your identity.

In such a culture, celibacy would undeniably be seen in negatives. Not having a wife meant not having children; not having a wife was solitude, and that implied no one to rely upon at home. Because children were expected to grow and eventually live their own life, to constantly rely upon your own parents was seen as it was, dependence. Single men over the age of twenty who were not yet betrothed were seen as having a need and those over twenty-five were pitied. Once in the thirties, you were seen as unsuccessful in life, unable to achieve what it meant to be a man, who was to be a provider. When in the fifties or above, somehow you were valued weirdly enough, but that came only because of the vast majority of single men reaching that age being clergymen.

-"Clergymen," mused Mayen, "I wonder how they feel about their celibacy..."

He was walking next to his father, going down south to a city known as Mildoyest. They had left their village barely an hour ago and it could still be seen behind. With nothing more than regular travelling garments and a pack mule to carry their spare clothes and necessities. Rowen's plan was to reach the city in a few days and find as soon as possible a distant relative named Soren, a cousin of his, and share their home in exchange of working for him until the real goal was met. Searching for a match for one's child was relatively easy within a community in comparison to going out and beyond those you knew. Travelling demanded time and resources. Luckily, not being a farmer but a lumberjack, Rowen could easily decide when to go on the road.

-"Mmm?" Rowen had been lost in thoughts and needed to hear the question again. "Ah, an honour! To be chaste for a purpose such as they have is worthy in itself."