Gandon rose from his bed feeling strange. Today he turned eighteenth and was finally considered a man by the citizens of Feorn. He looked at all the books and his scrolls on the table while getting dressed. Yvanos his master, would be angry soon if he didn’t return them, but surely he wouldn’t demand them back today of all days? He considered for a second lying to his master, he could say that Ilmur wanted to borrow them for a while, but no… Master would never fall for that trick.

It might be his birthday but he still had his duties to attend to. He had overslept so he skipped his breakfast before going to the gardens. Master had given him extra duties and he had no plans making his master regret his decision. He had many years ago accepted that he couldn’t beat Gandon in a swordfight, so he was going to outshine Ilmur in magic instead. Since Ilmur was of royal blood he would never have time to study as much as Gandon would.

When they were children, they had always been taught together by Yvanos. Their master was the only one that he had ever heard of that could use both the element of ice and fire. Ilmur had tried a few years ago to eat a fire berry in hope of mastering fire as well. Ilmur’s dream of becoming an archmage had ended quickly, he had only whimpered in the bed saying that the berry burned a hole in his stomach. Ilmur had been bed ridden in his bed for almost two weeks. Gandon had no plans in joining Ilmur in his foolishness, fire melts ice anyway. Even though ice had many uses in war that fire did not. You could make walls and if your shield broke you could create one temporarily, you could also strengthen your armor. But Gandon had noticed that fire mages had better endurance and required less sleep, something that suited him perfectly, he had more time to read then.

He came up to the wall that protected the garden, the guard let him in without even talking to him. They had learned his face by heart many years ago. Since he wasn’t a novice anymore, he wasn’t required to wear his red robe. He had stopped as soon as he could, he preferred colors as black and purple instead. Red robes with his red hair were just too much if you asked him.

He went to his master’s room in the tower, but he wasn’t there at the moment. His master’s desk was just as messy as his, if not worse. It was obvious who he took his habits from. There were a lot of potions on the table, one bottle had even broken, and its liquid was all over some of his master’s papers. He hurried to clean it up.

A long time ago, mages had used berries both freshly picked and dry berries to access one of the four elements. Now however, they dried the berries and made potions out of them, the magic was much more potent this way. It had taken a long time before this practice came to Oban, the island Yvanos had grown up on. He had already been a man grown before they started to make the berries into potions. Which explained why master was so careless with his bottles, but it annoyed Gandon to no end.

He looked at the board, there was no messages or errands for him at the time so he took his water can and went out back in the garden. This was one of his duties Gandon didn’t mind at all, it was satisfying watering the berries and watching them grow. Studying the art of magic was a lot theoretical and he didn’t mind leaving his chair once in a while. He saw a lot of mages in blue robes walking, sometimes he wondered if the fire mages took their studies more seriously, but he wondered if it was only his own bias. All of the mages greeted him, being Yvanos student gave him a lot of respect within the order. Yvanos didn’t have a chair at the master’s council, but that was only due to the master’s non-interest in politics.

The berries were placed in four rows and the fire berries were closest to the left wall. It would take at least thirty minutes before he had watered the fire berries, Gandon had no interest in the rest, since he could never master their magic. But sometimes he watered the ice berries to make Ilmur and his master happy as well. He hesitated and decided to water them as well, even though he had promised himself that he wouldn’t do that.

One of Gandon’s problems was that so much interested him, but his day had as many hours before the sun went down like anyone else. He studied magic, history, politics, botany, stories and cultures. The cultures of dwarves had caught his interest of late. Sometimes Ilmur said gleefully that he should study humans as well, but Gandon pretended not to hear him, when he did that.

He noticed a lot of weeds had started to sprout. He wanted to ignore it but knew he couldn’t. They could damage the effect of the berries or in worse case make the berries completely useless. Gandon wanted no dead fire mage on his consciousness, so he started to remove them one by one, as he had been taught as a boy. The master hadn’t returned before he was done, so he decided to leave. Feeling good by his day of work so far.

He decided to walk by the courtyard, Ilmur would probably be there practicing. He liked to keep himself sharp after all. He would probably ask him for a match, but he wouldn’t give him that pleasure today of all days. Someone else would have to take the beating instead.

Gandon was right in his prediction. Ilmur was fighting two men at the same time, but his money was still on Ilmur. Gandon was lucky in that regard that he could refuse a fight from the prince and get away with it. These two men, however, weren’t so lucky. It didn’t take long before both of them were whimpering on the ground.

Ilmur waved his hand at him when he noticed that Ilmur was sitting nearby, he went over to talk with Gandon for a while, giving the unfortunates a chance for a quick rest.

“Morning brother! Eighteen, can you imagine? You are not a little boy any longer. Finally, you can take on some real man responsibilities.”

Ilmur was only a month older than him, but he had been quite insufferable while he had been an adult by the law while Gandon hadn’t. He was glad they could put an end to that chapter.

They weren’t brothers by blood, but they still called each other brothers. He knew that he was as important to Ilmur as his biological brothers and Gandon that had no other family treasured Ilmur the same way. He wasn’t as fond of Ilmur’s real brothers. Saran was alright, but Taln and Gandon could never see eye to eye for some reason.

“If being an adult means beating each other up with wooden sticks I don’t think I’m quite ready for it. By the way, I was watering your share of the berries this morning, you know what master would say if you spoiled the berries.”

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“Thanks, I would have done it myself, but I’ve been…”

They both looked at the men whimpering on the ground. “Busy?” suggested Gandon.

“Something like that.”

Suddenly Ilmur got all excited. “I heard from Saran that one of father’s old childhood friends is visiting the capital really soon, looks like they are planning something. His daughter Alexandra is a real beauty if the rumors can be believed.”

Gandon crossed his legs and looked away. “I don’t really have time for women. I study higher arts.”

Ilmur wasn’t convinced. “Stronger men than you have said those words, you will fall for someone eventually.”

“And you have fallen long ago,” said Gandon.

“Well, you are not wrong, but when they throw themselves at you what are you supposed to do?”

“I don’t really know what the women see in you,” said Gandon teasing.

“Yes, what do they see in me? Surely not my good looks, or me being a prince or my intelligence?”

“What intelligence?” asked Gandon. “If you have any it’s about time that you show it to me.”

Ilmur rose and fetched his sword. “You and me, on the courtyard now!” said Ilmur while laughing.

“Oh, I see how it is. You are going to prove to me how intelligent you are with that sword of yours. The first men of the woods must have been real philosophers. Why don’t we play five towers instead?”

Ilmur looked at the youngest boys practicing, looking like he was busy with something else. “Perhaps another day.”

“Yes, you have been quite busy after all.”

Ilmur snapped with his finger and one of the servants came up to him with a black box. Ilmur took it and gave it to Gandon.

“Such a special day, deserves a special gift.”

Gandon opened the box surprised. Inside the box was a gold chain with a lion at the end. The eyes were made out of rubies, and this was worth more than anything that he owned in his possession.” He was quite taken aback.

“Now this is a rare sight, Gandon at a loss for words, you don’t see that every day,” said Ilmur happily.

“I don’t know what to say, this is too much, but thank you.”

“I figured the gold will go well with your black robes. Put it on!”

Gandon did that and he liked the feeling. They touched each other’s elbows in a form of embrace.

It felt like Gandon’s brain finally started working again. “Saran is already married, and you are the second oldest son, and if the king’s childhood friends come here with an unmarried daughter it can only mean one thing.”

“Yes, don’t think that I haven’t thought about it. But I’m not ready to get married yet, I think I want to wait a few more years still. The succession is secured with Saran and I know how to say no to father.”

Gandon didn’t look forward to Ilmur marrying someone, he wanted things to be like they were at the moment. If Ilmur had a wife, he would be even busier than he was right now. Gandon thought that Ilmur underestimated Elram, he was the king after all.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but father has planned a special meal in your honor. We will not go to bed hungry tonight.”

Gandon thought that they probably hadn’t gone to bed hungry a day in their life but decided not to say anything. “I wouldn’t have said no for a grand meal during breakfast, I was up so late the cooks had already put away the food.”

“Well I think I have given these two poor souls enough rest. Back to work. How will these men ever protect our kingdom if I don’t put them into shape?”

Ilmur strove off with his sword ready in hand. Ilmur looked quite intimidating when he wanted too. Gandon hoped that he would never have to face off an opponent like him. Gandon had no interest in looking at this pathetic display any longer and decided to leave.

He returned to his room to read for a few hours. Ilmur wasn’t the only one who liked practicing his skills. He read for a few hours, he wasn’t sure for how long, when he was summoned by a guard to the king’s chamber. Normally this wasn’t a good sign, in his mind, but the thought that today would be alright.

The guard took him to the chamber even though Gandon was well aware where the King’s chamber lay. The guard announced his presence and took his leave. The king was sitting at the desk with a glass of wine in his hand. He didn’t look drunk, he was well composed but he was definitely a little tipsy.

“Have a glass of the finest red and sit down, my boy,” said the king.

Gandon wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have a drink that was fit for a king and started pouring a glass for himself before he sat down.

“Eighteen years my boy! Can you imagine? And to think you were only a little babe the first time I saw you…” The kings gaze started to wander in the room, realizing that he might have said too much.

This slip of the tongue interested Gandon greatly. It was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t a northerner and he had been called many times behind his back and even to his face on rare occasions that he was a bastard. He had wondered for many years if that was the case, the king didn’t like to talk about his past, but what had been said a mere moment ago made him start to believe that it was more to this story, than he thought.

If the king was drinking this might be a good opportunity for him to get the truth once and for all. He started to drink eagerly, hoping that the king subconsciously would copy his behavior. However, he couldn’t be too obvious with his plan, then it would never work.

“Slow down my boy! That’s not exactly water you know!” but the king drank with him happily.

“You summoned me here, your majesty?” inquired Gandon.

“Your majesty! Stop being so formal, Gandon. Call me at least Elram in private, you are like a son to me you know.”

Gandon had never felt that it was the case. The king’s biological children had always gotten better gifts and he had spent more time with them as well. Gandon was an esteemed guest, but nothing more, nothing less.

He nodded. “You have given me so much, I’m forever grateful,” said he calmly.

“If only the rest of my sons could show as much grace as you, then I wouldn’t be so nervous when Ravon and his daughter’s visit, that is to come in a few days.”

Gandon feigned surprise. “This is the first time that I hear about it.”

The king laughed and had a refill. “I’m sure you do! Sometimes it’s a curse being a king, can’t do a damn thing without everybody talking about it. Don’t read too much into it, I’m merely missing my childhood friend, that is all.”

His grace and no subtlety at all when he was drinking. But it didn’t really matter, he and Ilmur were already aware of the king’s plan.

Gandon would have liked to play this out a little bit longer for a better opportunity, but he was simply too curious to hold it in any longer.

“You knew my mother?”

He lost eye contact with the king once again. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her, didn’t even get to learn her name. But she would most certainly been red of hair, since your father’s was black as a raven.”

The king’s hair fitted that description, but Gandon was quite sure that the king wasn’t talking about himself.

“You knew my father then?”

“Only briefly, I’m sad to say. Your father was a very courageous man, and they never tend to live that long.”

“How did he die?”

The king downed the last of his wine, but he didn’t refill his cup this time.

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it. Perhaps at another time.”

Gandon rose from his chair furious. “What do you mean that you can’t talk about it? He’s my father, if anyone should know about it, it’s me!”

“I realize that you are upset, but please sit down my boy.”

“I’m not your boy.” Gandon realized once again that his temperament had gotten the best of him. He was afraid of meeting the king’s gaze.

“I’m the king, don’t make me repeat myself and sit down. This was supposed to be a friendly chat, before the dinner.”

Gandon took his leave. “Today as a man grown, I’m going to refuse a king.”