A God's Fury

An Uncle's Guide

I knocked at the door three times.

Seeing as there won't be anyone opening it soon, I opened it myself. Hestral did not look up from his chair as I entered, instead he simply observed the environment beyond his window. 

"Don't you find it fascinating, that the world outside is so beautiful and magnificent?" He started as he drew something on his paper, a tree, I noticed.

"Prince Hestral," I said, all curt and official. He chuckled in reply. "Off with the titles and such, uncle, there's no need for that here," he then looked at me and smiled. "How do you do?" 

I simply bowed. "I am fine, prince," I looked at him. "Titles are meaningless to you, but there are always ears at these walls, my prince."

He dropped the smile. "Meaning?" He said in a clipped tone. "Meaning that if I drop the titles, it may seem as insubordination if heard by the wrong ears." I said, keeping my voice low. He dropped the pen to the table and stood up, moving to the fireplace opposite of the window. Silence stretched.

"Even if you're the King's brother?" He said finally. I nodded. "I never said those ears belonged to our side," I murmured. "And I have long past detached myself from my lineage, my prince." This time I did not whisper. 

He looked at me then. "Just to become a doctor?" He asked. I nodded. "Yes, my prince." He chuckled at that, a hearty laugh that was genuine. He brushed off his tears as he spoke. "Sometimes, uncle, you're too kind."

I was taken aback. Me? Kind? There's more to me than I show, child. I simply smiled at his reply, then went closer to him. I enclosed my arms around him, and gave him a tight hug. He did not resist. The hug took a long moment, until Hestral stirred

"Brother's gone." He whispered. "It's feels so different waking up on your own, rather than from the batting of brother's stick, screaming 'wake up wake up you fool!' all the while laughing." His shoulders shook, then looked up at me, eyes shining from tears.

"Can't believe I'd miss something like that." He said, and pushed me back. He wiped his eyes, readied himself, then took on a mask. A mask of composed calm and regalia, of confidence and of intelligence. A mask of a man that gave orders and did not take them. The mask of a King.

I frowned. And behind that mask is a boy lost in everything, forced into circumstances that faith had given him. A boy being something he is not meant to be. That mask will break soon enough.

"I must go, uncle, the new heir's announcement will take place soon, I thank you for the visit. Goodbye." He said curtly. "And may Aereus burn my fathers bones to the ground." This he said in hate and disgust.

I widened my eyes, put a finger to my lips, and mouthed the word "ears." He shook his head, "My father does not deserve the throne. He rules in fear and anger. I will take the crown from him and guide this Empire to completion. Goodbye." He put his chin up. "Uncle Gorven, until next time."

He spun his heels and went. I was looking at his straight back, his composure and his confident stride. There walked a man with ambition, and though ideal, he had resources to play, and dangerous cards at the tips of his fingers.

Maybe, maybe the mask won't ever break. Maybe it would become a part of him.

By Styros. Kids grow too fast. It felt just days ago seeing that child playing around with his brother, the high chimes of their laughs ringing in the courtyard. I shook my head. Throughout the years I've guided  him, I hope only it would serve protection.

I sighed, and studied Little Hesty's room. Or Prince Hestral's. Bah, I can call Hesty whatever I want. I studied the fireplace, and noticed the mantel above it. I frowned. There was nothing in the mantle, I vaguely remembered a silver sword being there.

I shook my head and went for the door, but stopped in my tracks. My eyes wandered to the drawing in the table. I took a closer look, and saw a beautiful sketch of nature. 

The prince was always talented with the pencil. Though considered feminine, one cannot deny the exquisite talent the prince had. The details, and the smallest of them all, was marvelous. But that wasn't the one that ticked me off.

I removed the paper, and under it was another paper with a different drawing. It was, sickly, a drawing of his brother's death. It gave a detailed sketch of the body, with emphasis on the wounds. But strangest of them all, was a sword sticking from the belly.

 On another time I would have thought it was because of Hestral's grieving. But my gut said that it was something else. Gave me a feeling as if there was a puzzle that I just can't place. One thing for sure, There was something wrong.

On instinct, I grabbed the paper and left the prince's quarters.

It was treachery itself by taking an item of a Holy Blood, especially without permission, and more so if taken by common blood. But nonetheless, my hand shook from holding the paper, as if there was a puzzle I could just pick out. 

And there was one person that could finish that puzzle for me.