Hallowed Damnation [#Wattys2016]

14

It was already evening when Resill Orion entered the gates of his family's estate. He dropped his small bag on the gleaming stone floors of their foyer and dumped himself on one of the couches in sheer exhaustion. He closed his chocolate brown eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to still the incessant throbbing in his temples.

Long travels did not bode well with him and often made him ill, but he had little choice in the matter. As the heir of their House, he was required to accompany their mother to council meetings as part of his training. He groaned. He was not supposed to be named heir and did not wish to be in the first place.

His half-brother Zyrin was older than him by a decade. According to tradition, he was the heir apparent and he made a perfect candidate for it. He was physically stronger, more mastered in his skills, and had an unparalleled amount of magic compared to Resill. He shocked all of Archan when he refused the title and insisted that it was his younger brother who was more suitable.

He told everyone that he would much rather serve as Commander than Head of the House. The Commander was in charge of the military forces and a region's security while the Head of the House was in charge of politics, governance, and the strengthening of the bloodline. The younger Orion sighed at the thought of his responsibilities. Whenever he asked his brother why he would relinquish the title, he would just grin and say that he found politics tedious. He knew it was not the complete truth, but there was nothing he could do about his decision.

He wanted nothing more than to go to bed and surrender to his exhaustion, but he was sent home ahead of schedule for an urgent reason. He needed to talk to his brother personally about a sensitive matter.

"Master Resill, we weren't expecting you to be home so soon. Would you like us to prepare dinner for you?"

Resill opened his tired eyes and saw a plump older woman smiling affectionately down at him. She had on a blue long sleeved dress that reached her calves and had a white frilly apron tied around her waist. Her greying hair was pulled back from her round face in a tight bun

"Hello, Camilla. It's nice to see you again," he said as he returned her smile. She was more than just their governess; she was considered their second mother. As far as he could remember, she had been taking care of him.

Camilla's pleasant expression quickly dropped into a concerned frown. It drew attention to the wrinkles on her aging face. Resill shook his head in amusement as he knew very well what was coming next.

"You look like death! Take a bath this instant and I will have some food sent up to your room. You look like you need to sleep for a week!" she said in horror. He let the laugh he could not contain anymore. Camilla never changed; she was still very much a mother hen and he loved her for it.

"I adore you, Camilla. As much as I would like to take you up on the offer, I must speak to my brother immediately before I retire for the night."

"I still think you should rest now, but if you insist it's urgent I can't really stop you," she huffed. The sternness in her eyes had dissolved into that of motherly concern.

"Where is my brother?" he asked.

"He went out late in the afternoon and the others have gone too. Only Arin is at the shooting range," she told him.

He sighed as he stood up. He was not surprised that Zyrin was not in the estate, but at least he was in the region. He knew that he had gone on an expedition recently to Armen; a venture that he was very much against because of the unknown dangers and the consequences of breaking The Disunion.