Like Father Like Son.
It was a strange sight to behold. It began at the far end of the valley. Fires, perhaps a hundred of them streamed from across the valley like a slow moving river. Nothing about them seemed to portend danger. Why would they? Nothing bad ever happened in this idyllic vale. But, curiously, while almost all the fires continued to meander through the valley, some of the fires stopped and began to grow.
I wouldn’t have noticed them so late at night if I had been able to sleep. My nights were filled instead with scanning the heavens for more clues about my father. “All that happens here is written upon the canvas of the night sky,” Angrin once told me during my astrological studies. “It is harder to see because it is further away.”
Constantly prodding me awake was the fear that if I ever fell asleep I’d miss a clue about my father. It was irrational, I knew. Still, I spent most of the nights staring at the night sky on the side porch of my home.
In a singular instant, my mind grasped the full realization of my predicament: the fires that had stopped were the bonfires of my neighbors’ homes, and, worse still, the stream of fire steadily moved faster and was heading directly toward our Estate!
The realization of the full danger flooded my sensibilities. I stumbled back, my legs paralyzed. I tried to gasp for air. The screams at the bottom of the hill were mere background to the terror I felt inside.
It seemed like eternity, but I finally was able to scramble to the door that led inside. A loud growl jerked my head to the side to find a 300 pound four legged beast with fangs the size of my forearms. As if that was not enough, a demon like figure with pointy facial features rode atop the beast. I did not stay outside to catch every detail, a glimpse of its sword, armour, and torch told me I had better try to hide inside.
Where could I hide? I heard more screams and more growls outside. Where was Angrin? I had no time to think. Instinctively, I ran downstairs into the darkened basement. There were only two places to hide downstairs: the storage pantry and my father’s study which I was told from a very young age that I was never to enter. I stayed within the shadows at the bottom of the stairs watching the light of the demonic figures’ torches bounce off the walls and ceiling upstairs.
With dread I saw one of them, torchless, but sword-drawn, stand at the top of the staircase. It peered down and slowly descended. The door to my father’s study was right behind me, and if there was ever a reason to break my father’s solemn command, it must be now. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked.
The room was pitch black. I took a step in, and candles all about the room burst into flame. Scattered about were tomes, scrolls, maps, and a large study table in the center of the room. Strangely, all the noise outside the room disappeared, leaving only the low hum of flickering candles. It was as though I was stepping into another universe. I quickly closed the door behind me and sensed that nothing from the outside would be allowed in. I was safe inside.
Here in this study was my father’s secret life, the life that he tried to hide from his son to shield his son from the same fate he was condemned to. I had hints about his life before. My father had frequently left for sometimes months at a time all his life. There was that night before my father last left. My father and Angrin held unusual esteem in the valley and beyond. At long last, I could confirm that my father was no ordinary farmer.
My father was particularly meticulous. Yet, open scrolls and books looked like they were thrown about the study table. He must have left in a hurry. Forgetting the world that lay outside this room, I decided to figure out who my father was once and for all.
Nothing in my life prepared me for what I was to find. Anatomical diagrams of demons; maps from lands, worlds perhaps, I never knew existed; letters from people whose titles I could barely pronounce; mathematical computations; astrological findings; his father’s own notes. I spent hours trying to pour over everything I could. At some point, I must have fallen asleep.
How long had it been, I wondered? I rubbed my eyes open and stared up a weapon rack made for two swords. Why had my father left one of his swords behind? [describe sword] The sword was cool to the touch, and heavy, too-heavy, it seemed for me to use. It was better than nothing I supposed, and I figured I should probably figure out if everything was okay.
I cracked open the door. It was just as dark as I left it. I heard nothing. Good, I thought, Angrin must have saved the Estate.
I flew open the door and started to head upstairs. I stopped dead in my tracks: the same figure that had crept down the stairs before was exactly as I left it before! And there were still the shouts and screams! It was as though no time had elapsed at all.
The creature let out a high-pitched shout and ran towards me. I tried to run back into the room, but the door was locked. I turned around, and darted into the pantry. I must have tripped over something, because I felt my legs collapse. I hoped that the darkness would protect me, but the thing took one look in my direction and met my eyes. I closed my eyes, turned my head, and threw up an arm to deflect the inevitable blow.
As the abominable creature came charging toward me, something deep inside me, something sub-conscious, gave life to my sword-wielding arm. My arm jerked up and I felt the sword extend outward. My arm then quickly kicked back. I opened my eyes to find my father’s sword imbedded into the chest of this thing and watched in horror as it slowly slid down the blade towards me.
I heard more footsteps on the staircase. I got up and kicked the creature off the blade. I felt a surge of power, a growing rage bolstered by a primal fear. I ran for the staircase to exact another killing blow.
A taller figure step forth. But this time, my arm went limp. I couldn’t swing. A good thing too for I learned that night how blinding rage and fear can be: I just tried to kill Angrin.
“Oh, thank Istus, your fate continues,” he whispered. “Here, follow me. And stay silent as I taught you.”
The next few moments will forever burn in my memory. As we left, I felt a powerful need to gaze back into the panty. There, hovering seven feet up and just feet from the the spot I had stumbled were a pair of glowing orangish eyes. I will never forget those eyes. If it weren’t for Angrin’s powerful grip on my arm, I likely would have stopped dead in my tracks. Those eyes seemed to draw in my very existence.
Angrin carefully lead me outside hundreds of feet away from the Estate.
“Makaus, listen to me, and listen to me carefully. You must go to Meric, you are not safe here. Travel by night, using the night as I taught you to hide you from your enemies.”
“Why? Aren’t you going with me?” I asked.
“I can’t. You must go alone. There are others here who I must protect as well. And there are also your father’s secrets.” He glanced down toward the sword.
“What has happened? Who are those creatures?” I asked.
“Those were a goblin scouting party from the north. War has found us Makaus. This is why you should have never returned.” He looked down again at my father’s sword. “It let you in I see.” It? Was there something else in the room that I didn’t see?
“Cuelendar has chosen you. Just as it chose your father. Tell me, has it spoken to you?”
“What? This sword?” I asked perplexed.
Seeing that I didn’t understand, he ushered me off. “I will meet you at Meric’s. Be safe, go quickly.”
***
Angrin ran back toward the house but stopped dead in his tracks just before stepping inside. He sniffed the air. Sulfur. Not just any sulfuric smell. His.
This was no ordinary scouting party. The Second Son had come for Makaus.
Like Father like Son.
He turned around in horror at the direction Makaus left. He then looked toward the sky in desperate hope. “Please, Mistress of the Moon, protect your son tonight.” Drowned out by the shouting and screaming, a distant howl of love’s eternal bonds answered his prayer.
Like Father like Son.
