The Last Philosopher

Three brothers and a baby

Lyeasrakardsul was pulled ever higher into the air, he felt disgraced like a mutt refusing to let go of a stick. In no time, the Vargreeks stretched out beneath him. He could see most of the massive mountain range, running through the entire continent. From the three peaks around the Pentakl plain, to the gluteal cleft that was the valley of skulls, and all the way to the cliffs crumbling into Absumo's waters. From north to south, every vision was somehow clear, even though they were so far apart.

Damn! This view is better than our penthouse's, his grudging thought.

"Everything is so small, it almost makes it seem less insignificant," he said still rising bit by bit.

Once he stopped, another pillar of light erupted. This one was pure white and much thicker than the others. In it there was the contours of a face.

"Aha, finally going to reveal ourselves, are we?"

But this wasn't the aspect of a god. It was curious that none of the multitude of deities had come out to take credit. After all, taking credit was what gods did best. Even so, this was the pudgy face of a baby. He hadn't seen one in person for a long time, but he could still recognise one.

For a split second everything went black, like the existence had blinked out of reality. Or had he blinked? Either way, it was evening again. The view was gone, and he was in the canopy of a sinister old oak tree. It had stumps of old rope hanging from its branches. Around him was a gravel square, and the white light was beaming out of every window of a house on the corner. It was so bright, if the building had any sense, it should have spontaneously combusted already.

Except for some whirling dust nothing moved. Until three robed figures came riding into the square. As they passed under the oak, he recognised one of them. Emmlina, the non-male brother. He was wearing a robe with patterns of little ribbons. A style he hadn't seen since the brothers' non-male father. Except for displaying school colours, standard robes were style-less.

"That settles it! This is the future. These three have never been outside of Empris."

Their non-male father would never have allowed it, and it wasn't that long since he died. It wasn't the proof he would have chosen. If he could have picked any three sorcerers to appear in a prophecy, these three would have been his last choice by a wide margin. As he watched, unseen, Emmlina stopped and reached into an unacceptably placed pocket beneath his freckled face.

That's one horrendous robe, his shame considered, it's missing most of its fabric.

Emmlina flipped whatever he retrieved in a familiar motion. Catching it in the air, he slapped it onto the back of his hand. After examining the object, the objectively gorgeous non-male man turned to one of the others. This one was wearing a bandanna, an oddly coloured robe, and the same dark glasses he had seen on the Knomes.

"That must be Lyrir, what is he wearing! Is that a pirate earring?"

He scowled with disapproval since they couldn't hear his complaining. Like he couldn't hear what they were talking about. The two brothers gestured to the house lit up with white. As they dismounted, each of them retrieved a bundle from his pack. Even covered in cloth, they were glowing. Naked yellow, thieving green, and violent red.

"I suppose those must be the so-called gifts?"

With that rhetorical question, he was launched upwards again and turned to the west. Far away, on the edge of the continent, there was a spot of pure Darkness and it seemed to be growing.

With a casual air, the ancient sorcerer snapped back to consciousness. Like sunday mornings as a sorcling, he was cold and sticky from his own vomit. But at least the p-wyrd was over.

Groping around for his hat, he remembered, "Oh, that's right, I dropped it, I wonder where it is now?"

Who cares! His indifference countered. Don't you see what this means, no more nightmares!

"I can finally get some sleep!"

Straining, with one of the top ten old man groans ever heard, he got up and started picking up half-digested carrot pieces.

"Three brothers and a baby," he said as it hit him. "As if the brothers weren't bad enough!"

For the last few decades, the three free sorcerer brothers had caused the council a lot of trouble. Things were even worse since their non-male father's death. Before, Ale-fic had kept some of their squabbling contained. Still, the whole family was a disgrace. For a start they were an actual family, and the brothers had been raised by their actual parents.

Now, to be fair, sorcerers weren't above some robe exploring. It wasn't officially condoned, but things happened. Things that were best ignored, as long as they stayed private. On occasion, these things led to offspring. Traditionally, however, it was given to the servants to raise. If the child was later found to have magick, it was put in the Xefef college like any other sorcling.

"The middle brother's robe is only the tip of the scandalous iceberg," he said changing his own soiled robe, making sure to spend as little time as possible naked.

Most sorcerers couldn't remember a time when they had a family. Which meant they saw no need for one of their own, and were only vaguely aware of how to make one. That was how the council wanted the land to lay. The only relationship a sorcerer should need was the strict hierarchy of work.

Before his death, Ale-fic had long been the councils favourite scapegoat. As Emmlina was following in his father's non-male footsteps, he was sure to pick up any stray blame once they saw his robe design. He had secretly liked Ale-fic. Even as a child among strangers, he had the courage to stand up for himself. It wasn't until Lyeasrakardsul became a member of the council that he learnt to stand up for anything.

"S-he," he forced out the right pronoun, "was the only sorcling I ever saw that completely refused to go by him."

'I'm not a filthy boy, I'm a girl!' Her screams had echoed down the tower halls. She had kept trying to grow her hair out and her teachers cut it off. Worse, she made alterations to her robes. Calling them cute. No matter how much she was punished, she never gave up on being a girl. Even refusing to choose her sorcerer's name. As it became clear she was expecting, she convinced her special friend they should become free sorcerers.

After leaving, they continued with their abnormal behaviour having two more children. All of which they refused to have educated in Pentakl. The brothers hadn't even attended the indoctrinary Xefef grades that even Trolls were forced to complete. Instead, they were the first to be home-schooled. A never before used privilege of the free sorcerers.

The brothers' mere existence challenged the state of affairs in Empris, and their feuding made the council look weak. It was a dangerous game. In the council's opinion, every action deserved an opposite and unequal overreaction. But due to his appeals it had stopped at stern warnings, and a lot of time in tower arrest.

"I have tried to protect the brothers, ever since their m-mother died. Without me, the whole family would have been jailed long ago."

Now that they had appeared in a prophecy, they would have to come to the city for the first time. He wouldn't be able to protect them in Pentakl.

Updated: 15.01.2024