Eleanor Stargazer

Chapter Five - Part 2

Damian

Uncle Damek wanted to talk to Damian. In private. Something about the shortness of his words, and shifting gaze made Damian's stomach roll. He tried to shrug off this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, blaming it on the perilous journey that lay ahead of them. Surely, suggesting to the current king that the rightful queen is here to reclaim her throne, can't be the easiest of jobs. Maybe he wanted to talk about what would happen if this all went sideways? Damian shook his head. No. He won't think like that. This was an adventure. Just like in the stories his uncle used to tell him, and in those stories everyone always came back home safely.

With thoughtful movements his turned the wooden and steel grinder as he ground the coffee beans into a fine powder. A burnt vanilla aroma filled the room. Out of the corner of his eye he caught his uncle staring at him, returning the gaze his uncle swiftly brought his attention back to the potatoes he was peeling.

"Is everything okay?" Damian asked slowly. The heavy feeling in his stomach grew. It's been like this since Ailana left yesterday.

"Could we perhaps talk now?" Uncle Damek kept his eyes on the half-peeled potato.

"Sure." Damian answered but was in fact not really sure if he was ready for this talk. It couldn't be another talk about the birds and the bees, could it? That is one horrible experience burnt into his memory. His uncle's very visible nervous swallow told him this was going to be way worse.

"Eleanor?" Uncle Gustav's eyes gestured to her room door.

"She's sleeping."

"Okay, good." His uncle nodded, putting his knife and the potato down. "She needs to rest. She's still very weak."

Damian nodded, noticing his uncle's odd attempt at small talk.

"Damian." His uncle started. "Could you come sit down. This is important."

Now Damian was the one who swallowed.

"On my way." He forced a smile, quickly emptying the contents of the grinder into a small copper bowl.

He sat down down on the wooden chair next to his uncle, his body jumping in the seat when he looked up into green eyes. He still wasn't used to it.

"Damian," the deep green eyes boring into him. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Is this another sex talk?" A nervous laugh escaped his throat. "Because I can still remember our first talk - too vividly. You don't need to worry."

"Damian." The low voice was cracking. "This is serious."

His smile faltered, but a faint one remained on his face. "This is somewhat unsettling." He said more to himself, than his uncle.

"Nine months before the Great Battle of Cerahdun, Rosalie had a baby."

Damian cocked up his head. His uncle rarely spoke about his late wife. "You had a child? What happened?"

Uncle Damek's eyes fell to his hands. "Rosalie was part of the Circle. As was I, along with Ailana."

"You were?" Damian was surprised. "Didn't only the best witches and wizards belong to the Circle?"

"Yes." His uncle cleared his throat. "We were the youngest of the Circle. It is where I met your- met Rosalie." He stumbled over his words. "I was taken by her the moment I laid my eyes upon her. She was beautiful in a way that couldn't be described in just looks. She was confident in herself, always true to her values. Her mind always spoke of a better future, of ways to improve life for those who suffered. She would challenge authority when power was being abused, whether it was a knight who stood before her, or a whole army."

"Is that what happened to her?" Damian asked, knowing that his aunt had died during the Great Battle, but his uncle never shared more than that bit of information. "She tried to stand up to King Nycolas' army?"

"She didn't try. She did, but it wasn't the army that brought her down."

"Brought her down?" He made it sound like she was the enemy here, not King Mythras.

"The Southern Kingdom had two enemies. One a paranoid king who imprisoned and murdered all magic folk, the other a radical witch, who murderer and tortured humans."

Damian felt his jaw drop open. "Aunt Rosalie murdered people?" His uncle didn't answer. He didn't need to. "But surely she was trying to save the kingdom from King Mythras. I mean, just look at the state of the kingdom now-"

"You can't save a kingdom by murdering the innocent."

He heard something in his uncle's voice he has never heard before. Resentment and pain cracked through his throat. A sudden ache overtook Damian, as he saw his uncle like this.

"Maybe they weren't innocent-" He grasped at straws, desperate to find a reason. Something that could take this look off his uncle's face.

"The thing about power is, it can easily corrupt you. That's why no one should take joy in the being identified as one of the strongest witches or wizards. It is a warning. Not an honour. Every day is a battle to choose the right thing, to smile at an enemy instead of crushing him with one word."

A chill ran down Damian's spine. His uncle could kill someone with one word?

"But if you see someone doing something evil, shouldn't you fight it?"

"Killing evil is not the same as killing the person wielding it." Uncle Damek's eyes were sparks, holding back a wildfire that's been burning through his heart for years. "People aren't all good or all evil. If you wish to truly defeat your enemy, you destroy the evil within him, take it away. Any other way, is a burden that you carry with you forever."

"Is it a burden that you carry?" Damian asked softly.

Uncle Damek's silence was his answer.

"What happened to your child?" Uncle Damek's face twitched, as though someone scraped over an old wound. Yet, his eyes softened. The resentment replaced with something Damian couldn't quite place.

His uncle took a deep breath before answering. "When the king set in the new law of no magic or magical folk, I knew that once people found out I had a child - that Rosie had a child, he wouldn't only be bound. They'd take him away. They'd kill him."

"What did you do?" Damian asked slowly, afraid for the end of this story.

"I bound his powers and put a charm on his eyes." His uncle looked up at him. "That way no one can sense the magical energy in him, nor see it. Not even he himself." Damian finally recognised this look. It was guilt.

"Where's he now? Why isn't he-" His uncle's eyes were glassy, and finally it sunk in. His heart slammed against his chest, the vibration echoing in his ears. He felt lightheaded. "I-I'm the son?"

"I'm am sorry for keeping it from-"

The loud crash of a chair to the floor, jerked their eyes to the kitchen.

Ellie was standing there, eyes big, face white, her eyes locked on Damian. She jumped to floor, picking up the chair.

"I'm so sorry. I was just getting water, but I didn't hear anything – much. I mean I heard enough, but I didn't mean to. I probably misheard anyways." She waved her hands in the air swiftly turning back to her room, but not before bumping into another chair.

"Ellie," Damian said, somewhat relieved by her presence. He wasn't sure what to say to his uncle – or father. This was too strange. He shook his head.

"I'm leaving. You can continue your talk." She said, flowing her palms towards them, as she exited the room, slamming her room door behind her.

"Damian," Uncle Damek started.

Damian jumped out of his seat. "I should go check on Ellie."

His uncle – or whoever he was – called after him, but he was already at Ellie's door, stepping in. Stepping away from a truth that seemed much more unreal than a world of magic.