Dark Kin

Chapter 1: The Stableboy

The horses in the stable bayed as a young boy walked into the brick-and-mortar building. The orange lantern light was overborne by the shining of the silver moon in the sky, which shone deep into the dark of the barn. The cool night air drifted into the barn from the river, bringing with it the smell of the reeds and the croaking of frogs that bred along the burbling river shores.

The boy patted each of the mare's noses as he walked by while soothing them with a soft hush. His favorite steed was Ulryx, a Valoran breed, spotted black and brown with a dash of snow white, a supposedly accursed pattern stated by the elders, and such not a single soldier wanted to ride Ulryx into battle.

However, the mare was nothing but sweet and kind to the young stablehand for the twelve years they had known each other. Even now, as an old steed, she was affectionately kissing the boy's hand as he raised an apple to offer the horse, which she happily took from his hands.

The boy unsheathed parchment from his satchel, sitting down in front of Ulryx and setting his lantern beside him. With a newly sharpened pencil he began to write, barely able to see his own work in the faint glow of the lantern, but still, he wrote with the dedication of a royal scribe, letting each of his thoughts spill out unto the paper like the whispering river just a few feet away.

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Everyone knows that the river must end

Meeting its eternal rest in the sea

But the river, rushing faster and faster through the sands

Whisking away the desert itself

It spends its days rushing to the end

But when it finally gets there

Does it wish to flow more?

To rerun as a brook or stream,

Or does it accept the turn of the tide?

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The boy tapped the pencil to his head.

"Was it good enough?" the thoughts started to pour into his head. Thoughts of doubt. He shook them away. He would work on it in the morning. He reached up behind him to pat Ulryx's nose one more time before blowing out the flame in his lantern and closing his eyes to let his dreams take him away.

A sharp pain in the boy's forehead woke him up in a rush. He opened his eyes and saw the upside-down, smiling face of a familiar young girl. He looked over to the side to see his pencil laying beside him. She had obviously dropped it onto his forehead to wake him up.

"Setaka!" he hissed, "You could've taken my eye out!"

Setaka had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing. A tell that she was thinking of a joke that was way funnier in her head than it actually was.

"Just let it out before you explode," the boy said, rubbing his forehead.

"I think it would be an improvement!" Seteka collapsed from her own joke, wheezing from the lack of air.

"Clearly good comedy hasn't reached the duke's palace yet," the boy said, a half smile creeping up the side of his face.

In the middle of laugh-sobbing, Setaka punched his shoulder.

"Hahaha shut up Aatrox!" she giggled.

Setaka finally managed to get a hold of herself and saw Aatrox's poem now scattered across the stable floor.

She picked it up and read it. Aatrox watched carefully as her eyes darted back and forth from one end of the page to the other. Setaka had wonderfully green eyes, it reminded Aatrox of the jade stone statues of Taanari and Enekai that the duke had set up in his courtyard. There were some flecks of gold in her iris', it was that mottled imperfection that Aatrox found so fascinating.

Aatrox suddenly became aware of his surroundings and realized that he had been staring at Setaka for upwards of a minute. She looked up from his poem and brushed back her braids before asking, "what?"

"Nothing," Aatrox said quickly, clearing his throat, "how do you like the new poem?"

"It's a bit morbid for a twelve-year old I think," she chuckled, "It's pretty obviously supposed to be about the cycle of life and death, should we accept lamb's arrow or wolves' jaws and such. I might have to recommend you to the royal therapist for this."

Aatrox tried to snatch the poem from Setaka's hands, but she quickly kept it out of his reach.

"But, you're definitely getting better," she stated, "you're printing could be improved though, I feel like I'm looking at my little brother's writing."

"Isn't Joraal some kind of prodigy?"

"You'd never guess based on his scripture," Setaka laughed.

A dark figure filled the doorway. He was covered head to toe in golden armor, the sign of a seasoned soldier in the Golden Army. His massive halberd had a blade as large as Aatrox's head and barely fit through the door with him. The soldier removed his helmet to show the white-bearded old wrinkled face of Taarosh.

"Princess," he said while in a half bow, "The duke requires your presence at the palace."

Setaka bowed in response like she was trained to do with all of the soldiers in the Golden Army.

"Of course, Master Taarosh," she turned to Aatrox, "keep practicing rafiq, I'm looking forward to the next one."

Aatrox watched Setaka run out the door and up the field back to her father's palace.

Taarosh looked down and Aatrox and raised an eyebrow.

"Aye, good luck with that one lad," he said, bending down to ruffle the boy's shaggy hair, "you know she's been marked for Ascension by the Emperor himself. Just hope that she doesn't forget you when you die."

"I know," Aatrox mumbled, "Why'd it have to be her and not you? I thought you've always wanted to Ascend?"

Taarosh grunted with effort as he lowered himself to sit down with Aatrox, patting Ulryx's inquisitive nose as he did.

"Maybe at one time I could've been next to Ascend, but you've seen what's been happening in the south with Icathia. Those rebels want the Emperor and his entire family dead. He wants someone with the power of the Ascended in his family if things go really sour. Besides, I'm too old to make that climb anymore."

Aatrox looked up at Taarosh.

"You'd be the best Ascended. Better than Taanari or Enekai I'd bet."

"I wouldn't go that far, lad. I think I could do my part for a while, but don't you think that immortality is rather... idiotic? I've lived my life and seen what I needed to see. When the lamb comes, I'll accept her arrow."

"You wouldn't want to live forever? You wouldn't want to become a god?"

"Trust me, boy, there are worse fates in this world than death."

Taarosh eased himself back into a standing position, making many exasperated noises as he did. He beckoned Aatrox up with him.

"Did you feed the horses yet?" he asked.

"No sir," Aatrox responded.

"Well best get on it then," Taarosh laughed, "these steeds are hungry!"

Aatrox ran down the river to collect the reeds that grew along the river. He drug himself through filth and muck while always scanning the top of the water for the peering eyes of crocodiles, always ready to drag their prey into the depths.

As Aatrox gathered the reeds he looked west to Mount Targon. The great mountain was said to have been pulled up by the gods themselves, a haven of celestial magic and wonders beyond what mortal minds could even comprehend. Aatrox looked down and closed his eyes. He promised himself that one day, he'd climb up that mountain, and see what the heavens have planned for him.

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