Lore of Eternal Shadow: The Fugitive King

Chapter Five

"Good morning, my love," she said to Vidente as her violet eyes beamed affection upon him.

"Good morning," Vidente yawned. He kissed Inanna's hand before he rubbed the sleep out of his red eyes, "What's for breakfast?"

"They rationed grain and eggs again," Vidente's wife explained, "I hope you're fine with sautéed mushrooms."

"When you make them, love, they're divine!" He held his hands out as if conjuring a vision.

Inanna laughed, "High praise indeed. I'll meet you downstairs. There's a surprise in the kitchen when you get there."

As his wife left him, Vidente crawled out of bed. He was content with dressing simply for now and ignoring the ceremonial garb in his wardrobe. He looked outside, above and beyond the other rough stone buildings of the city at the red sky. Vidente moved over to the window, pensively studying how the faint glow of the sky illuminated the forest of buildings. There was no glass in the window because it would never rain and never would wind blow. The sky would be forever twilight.

Vidente finally went down the steps to the kitchen. Everything from the ceiling to the floor in Vidente's house was made of stone. Occasionally woven tapestries broke the monotony.

"One more line, there," said a boy to a younger boy. Vidente paused to watch. At the stone kitchen table a boy of eleven was teaching a boy of nine how to write. "That's it," smiled the elder boy, "nice signature, Enki."

"Thanks," beamed Enki as he looked at his work on the coarse black paper.

There was an overwhelming contrast between the boys. Enki, the younger boy, was dressed simply in a rough spun tunic and trousers. The elder boy had shoulder plates, gauntlets, and grieves of a gleaming metal alloy and his clothes underneath were made of thick woven fiber. There was strength and overwhelming boldness on his face. Into his red eyes had burnt hard things that were far beyond what an eleven year old ought to have seen. A six foot long scythe rested against the wall behind him, of the same metal as the boy's armor.

"Varadan," greeted Vidente, "Good to see you. When did you arrive?"

"Just last night," the elder boy, Varadan, replied, "Enki wouldn't leave me alone until I taught him some writing."

"I wrote a letter, father," Enki proclaimed. Vidente read the letter after Enki offered it to him. "It's to all the children that live with Varadan," the boy explained.

"That is so sweet of you, Enki," said his mother. Inanna tousled her son's brown hair to his embarrassment. She pecked him for good measure and immediately he wiped it off.

Great thuds came from the front door. "Prophet Vidente!" growled a deep voice through the door, "the King requires your council!"

The four of them looked at each other, startled. "Dammit," said Vidente. He surveyed the writing implements on the table, "Varadan, you must leave immediately."

Varadan nodded and practically threw everything he had brought with him into his woven satchel. He was used to packing up quickly, though, and somehow strategically put his stuff in without damaging it. Everything about the eleven year old was forbidden: his clothing, his armor, his weapon, his tools, his writing system, his language, and even himself. He was not supposed to exist.

Inanna grabbed Varadan's breakfast plate to wash and put away. Vidente nodded at his wife and she, understanding, rushed up to the front room. "Milord Prophet is divining now," she said to whoever was on the other side, "he requires some time to close the spell."

Vidente rushed around the house, clearing it of evidence of Varadan's presence. "Dammit," he cursed as he zipped past Varadan, "I had some things for your father..."