Domain of Power-The Dreamer (Book 3)

Chapter 2: Melancholy Summer

***Six years ago***

It was the lazy days of summer before the stifling heat would come to an end and the nights would grow long and cool. It was also a wonderful time to be a child. Here, rules did not apply. There was no need to keep our white tunics clean to look presentable. No adults scolding us to be quiet and stand still. No mindless pleasantries or boring speeches. The only sound was the sound of our footsteps crunching whatever twigs or grass coated the forest floor.

The thick underbrush and the towering trees concealed the three of us brothers from prying eyes. In the heart of the thickets lay the forest's best-kept secret. Fireflies. Every night, the dancing lights, as I liked to call them, would come out to play in the clearing as the skies darkened. I was glad that Apollus convinced Barbarius and me to come here after a long day standing for my father's commencement ceremony at the Forum. Barbarius was reluctant at first to sneak off without informing Father. Part of me thought he did not want to get in trouble. But another part of me thought that him being fourteen years old meant he was starting to "outgrow" us. Even though he towered over both of us, it still felt like old times.

This was our special place to hide away from the world and see who could catch the most fireflies. I steadied my palms to capture the firefly that floated between my eyes.

"Barbarius!" The leaves swayed from the overhanging branches, giving the lightning bug a chance to disappear into the thickets. I knew the distant but firm voice before he appeared. Father. He found out where we went!

"Leave the fireflies alone for your brothers. You are too old to go chasing fireflies. You are going to leave your childishness behind you if you want to be king!" he continued.

Barbarius rolled his eyes before mumbling something under his breath. He placed the glass jar next to a fallen log, now eaten by moss and mushrooms. He stood staring at the jar as if he immediately regretted his decision to abandon them, before retreating to the footpath that led back to Father. I stared at Apollus. His mouth gaped open before spreading into the widest grin. I looked down at what caught his attention. The glass jar.

Inside, there had to be at least a dozen fireflies crawling around each other. The only thing keeping them from escaping was a cloth tied around the opening by a knotted thread.

"He has so many!" I exclaimed.

Apollus sighed. "I wish I could take one. Maybe I could borrow some of his," he said, placing his own jar down.

I studied the bugs crammed into the jar as they crawled around each other or flew and hit the sides of the glass.

"Apollus. Troy. It is time to go home!" There was an edge to Father's voice now.

I grabbed the jar before Apollus could lunge for it. Apollus yanked it from my hands. I almost fell backward when my left heel hit the log.

"Give it back!"

I snatched it from his grip. Apollus ran after me. I tripped and fell over a hidden rock, dropping the jar on a bed of flowers. By the time I could scoop up the cloth lid that came off, the fireflies escaped, hitting me in the face before buzzing away into the violet sky.

"Now look what you did!" Apollus snapped.

"Boys! I am not going to repeat myself!" I could hear Father's steps closing in.

My hands shook as I slapped the cover over the jar. But it was too late. All of them escaped. I swung the jar over my head to capture the remaining fireflies as I retreated to the foot trail. Apollus walked ahead of me, with a sullen look as if doom awaited us on the other side of the grove of trees where my father and Barbarius no doubt stood. Part of me wanted to stay a little longer and redeem the fireflies I lost. To make Apollus happy again. To have us all play together before Barbarius became too "mature" to play with his younger brothers.

"Maybe we can come back next week," I said in a rueful voice. I secretly hoped Apollus would tell me not to worry. That this was not going to be the last time we played together. But he kept silent, moving with longer strides. It was now just me, struggling to keep up the pace. If being king meant I had to say goodbye to all my "childlessness," then I never wanted to grow up. I took one long, wistful look inside the cracked, empty jar between my palms and then at the field where all my dreams lived. I promised myself I would return here. That I would never forget this place.