Talent’s POV

There was a time when Talent enjoyed time with his mother. They would ride out to the edge of the forest and pick wild berries together. She'd tell him stories, sing to him, and teach him songs and dances. He loved those days.

He almost missed them.

Now he held nothing but bitter contempt for the woman he wasn’t willing to call mother anymore. She wasn’t a mother. She wasn’t human. She may as well have been a number in the mines far from him.

Lord Asher unlocked and pushed open the door to his private gallery. He had many treasures hidden inside, mostly pieces he’d collected himself. There were a few Talent suspected were brought in by Sambra, but he had no way to know for sure. Talent much preferred that the door remain locked, but he knew he had to face her again. He knew he needed to try.

Talent walked past the first section of the gallery. It held swords, spears, daggers and other weapons. His father had an interest in blades of all types, but Talent never cared much for any of them. He preferred to use magic, he also wasn’t much of a fighter.

The second section of the gallery was where things really got uncomfortable. Half petrified fiends stood on stages decorated to look like the place where Lord Asher took them from. The Lord had been careful not to kill any of them. He only petrified their limbs so that they couldn’t move. He used a ruling to make it so that their flesh would not reject the stone and their minds remained conscious and aware.

Talent tried not to look at them. He found it disturbing how their eyes tracked his every movement. Talent didn’t understand why or how his father considered this art, it was simply cruel and disgusting.

The third section of the gallery was the one Talent dreaded most. It was the room where his father kept the two subjects he considered the most valuable. One of them Talent did not know. It was a man with dark hair and an ever sullen expression. He never spoke, and he never seemed to care about anything happening around him. Talent only knew he lived, because he watched as Lord Asher fed the man. The lord always did it himself as the man would refuse to eat unless compelled by a ruling.

They were here for the room’s other occupant. Talent felt a surge of anxiety as he stepped up to her display. It was a small stage with many flowers and small critters. She had once loved animals; Although; Talent believed she had grown to regret that in their shared confinement. Lord Asher said the art was in capturing the subject in its ideal environment, then watching as the creature began to resent everything it once loved.

It didn’t seem to work for the male captive, but Talent’s mother couldn’t stop her face from twisting every time Lord Asher entered the room. She hated him, and Talent believed she may have grown to hate her own father for giving her as a wife to the High Lord.

Talent stepped up onto the stage and stood before her. She didn't acknowledge him; her eyes stayed fixed on Lord Asher who stood by the door.

Talent didn’t know what to say to her. The last time he was here things didn’t go well at all. She’d been happy to see him at first, but partway through the conversation she grew angry and insisted that Lord Asher had poisoned him against her even as Talent explained it was her own actions that made him bitter.

“I’m here to ask—”

“Don’t!” Meyori, snapped as she turned her vicious eyes on her son. “I told you already, I did it to protect you and it won’t be undone until that man is dead!”

Talent sighed, knowing it was no use trying to reason with her. Her will was as strong as his, or even stronger.

Lord Asher laughed as he moved closer. He stopped just outside of Meyori's reach with a smile like the grin of a lurking sychter. The creatures were terrible and known for tormenting weaker creatures for pleasure—Talent thought his father was worse.

“Meyori,” Lord Asher began, “I admire your determination, but you’re a smart woman. You must know that I am also a smart man. I know what your foolish father is plotting with the lower Lords. They will never succeed in marching on my cities. I need only say the word their own soldiers will slit their throats. You might be pleased to know that I have plans for them as well. For your father especially, I’m preparing a stage much like this one. I’ll place it right over there, so you can watch as his pride crumbles to dust. Perhaps you will be more reasonable after that. I wonder how long it will take him to lose all sense of who he used to be. I doubt it will take as long as you, my dear, you were always a stubborn one.”

Talent watched his mother closely. She didn't show any emotion. Her face was calm and her eyes cold and focused. She was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what.

Lord Asher touched Meyori’s cheek and said, “I could be persuaded to show mercy of course. It would only cost you the diato you stole from my son.”

Meyori’s eyes burned with fury as she hissed, “He is my son. I did what I did to ensure you couldn’t use him like some piece on your board. If you want his diato back just slit your wrists and wait for the blood to run out.”

Talent was stunned. He felt as though he could barely breathe. He had hoped she might have a change of heart, but it was clear that she was committed.

Lord Asher’s anger was like thick smoke filling the room. Talent knew this wasn’t the response his father wanted. Meyori was—should have been at least—far weaker than Lord Asher. She should have been completely unable to resist him, and yet on this issue he was unable to compel her.

No matter how she lied or spun the situation, Talent believe she stole his power for anything but her own gain. Or maybe it was for her father, at his command…Talent wanted to believe that, but if it was true then his father would have no problem overwriting the compulsion. This was her own will.

Talent sensed a change in the atmosphere, an electric charge strong enough to paralyze or maybe even to kill an adult fellethump.

He had no choice.

He stepped between his parents, striking his mother across the face as he moved. Her pale skin reddened, her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth fell open.

She looked at him, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. He hated himself for what he had done, but he didn't regret it. Whatever his father was about to do would have been worse.

Talent steeled himself. Speaking with no emotion and as much authority as he could muster, Talent began, “You deceived me, made me believe that you needed my power to protect us when really you had everything you needed all along. You wanted my diato to spite my father, to ensure he would leave no heir and maybe so that you could eliminate him and take his place. Unfortunately, you miscalculated.”

Talent saw as his mother’s features softened, as tears formed in her eyes and her will seemed to be faltering. He continued.

“You ask him to kill himself for the vain hope that your ruling will be undone. That I’ll recover. We all know that is bullshit and neither my father nor I will ever believe your lies again. Return what you stole. Give back my diato and let me grow into the shield I was meant to be. Let me the light that protects my people.”

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Meyori couldn’t hold back her tears as she looked at son. She saw surprising little of the gentle boy she’d raised and far too much of the brutal Lord his father wanted him to be. His words were a dagger pressed slowly, deliberately, into her heart. Meyori didn’t know where she went wrong, but as she grieved her loss, her conviction was reaffirmed. Talent could not be allowed to reclaim his diato until Lord Asher no longer drew breath.

She looked in her son’s eyes, and spoke. She spoke not as a mother, but as a lord. She spoke to another high lord and she used the power she stole to make her voice impossible to ignore.

“Do not ask me again. The answer will always be no."

Talent's eyes widened in surprise as her words resonated with his entire being. He felt the power that he’d loaned to her as the ruling settled on him. It was like a heavy blanket suffocating him and draining the life from his limbs. It was so strong, and so oppressive that he struggled to breathe when he tried to ask again. It was a firm ruling and Talent would die before he ever managed to overcome it.

Lord Asher was furious. His eyes burned yellow as he stared at the woman who refused to give up. He looked at his son and asked, “How did you fail? How can you be so pathetic?”

Without waiting for a response, Lord Asher turned and left.

Talent knew he should feel anger, but he didn't. He felt relief and sadness, regret and longing. He knew that he would never have his mother again. He also knew that he would never be the son she wanted. Because of her actions, her choices, he knew that he would always be a disappointment to his father.

POV

There was a time when Talent enjoyed time with his mother. They would ride out to the edge of the forest and pick wild berries together. She'd tell him stories, sing to him, and teach him songs and dances. He loved those days.

He almost missed them.

Now he held nothing but bitter contempt for the woman he wasn’t willing to call mother anymore. She wasn’t a mother. She wasn’t human. She may as well have been a number in the mines far from him.

Lord Asher unlocked and pushed open the door to his private gallery. He had many treasures hidden inside, mostly pieces he’d collected himself. There were a few Talent suspected were brought in by Sambra, but he had no way to know for sure. Talent much preferred that the door remain locked, but he knew he had to face her again. He knew he needed to try.

Talent walked past the first section of the gallery. It held swords, spears, daggers and other weapons. His father had an interest in blades of all types, but Talent never cared much for any of them. He preferred to use magic, he also wasn’t much of a fighter.

The second section of the gallery was where things really got uncomfortable. Half petrified fiends stood on stages decorated to look like the place where Lord Asher took them from. The Lord had been careful not to kill any of them. He only petrified their limbs so that they couldn’t move. He used a ruling to make it so that their flesh would not reject the stone and their minds remained conscious and aware.

Talent tried not to look at them. He found it disturbing how their eyes tracked his every movement. Talent didn’t understand why or how his father considered this art, it was simply cruel and disgusting.

The third section of the gallery was the one Talent dreaded most. It was the room where his father kept the two subjects he considered the most valuable. One of them Talent did not know. It was a man with dark hair and an ever sullen expression. He never spoke, and he never seemed to care about anything happening around him. Talent only knew he lived, because he watched as Lord Asher fed the man. The lord always did it himself as the man would refuse to eat unless compelled by a ruling.

They were here for the room’s other occupant. Talent felt a surge of anxiety as he stepped up to her display. It was a small stage with many flowers and small critters. She had once loved animals; Although; Talent believed she had grown to regret that in their shared confinement. Lord Asher said the art was in capturing the subject in its ideal environment, then watching as the creature began to resent everything it once loved.

It didn’t seem to work for the male captive, but Talent’s mother couldn’t stop her face from twisting every time Lord Asher entered the room. She hated him, and Talent believed she may have grown to hate her own father for giving her as a wife to the High Lord.

Talent stepped up onto the stage and stood before her. She didn't acknowledge him; her eyes stayed fixed on Lord Asher who stood by the door.

Talent didn’t know what to say to her. The last time he was here things didn’t go well at all. She’d been happy to see him at first, but partway through the conversation she grew angry and insisted that Lord Asher had poisoned him against her even as Talent explained it was her own actions that made him bitter.

“I’m here to ask—”

“Don’t!” Meyori, snapped as she turned her vicious eyes on her son. “I told you already, I did it to protect you and it won’t be undone until that man is dead!”

Talent sighed, knowing it was no use trying to reason with her. Her will was as strong as his, or even stronger.

Lord Asher laughed as he moved closer. He stopped just outside of Meyori's reach with a smile like the grin of a lurking sychter. The creatures were terrible and known for tormenting weaker creatures for pleasure—Talent thought his father was worse.

“Meyori,” Lord Asher began, “I admire your determination, but you’re a smart woman. You must know that I am also a smart man. I know what your foolish father is plotting with the lower Lords. They will never succeed in marching on my cities. I need only say the word their own soldiers will slit their throats. You might be pleased to know that I have plans for them as well. For your father especially, I’m preparing a stage much like this one. I’ll place it right over there, so you can watch as his pride crumbles to dust. Perhaps you will be more reasonable after that. I wonder how long it will take him to lose all sense of who he used to be. I doubt it will take as long as you, my dear, you were always a stubborn one.”

Talent watched his mother closely. She didn't show any emotion. Her face was calm and her eyes cold and focused. She was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what.

Lord Asher touched Meyori’s cheek and said, “I could be persuaded to show mercy of course. It would only cost you the diato you stole from my son.”

Meyori’s eyes burned with fury as she hissed, “He is my son. I did what I did to ensure you couldn’t use him like some piece on your board. If you want his diato back just slit your wrists and wait for the blood to run out.”

Talent was stunned. He felt as though he could barely breathe. He had hoped she might have a change of heart, but it was clear that she was committed.

Lord Asher’s anger was like thick smoke filling the room. Talent knew this wasn’t the response his father wanted. Meyori was—should have been at least—far weaker than Lord Asher. She should have been completely unable to resist him, and yet on this issue he was unable to compel her.

No matter how she lied or spun the situation, Talent believe she stole his power for anything but her own gain. Or maybe it was for her father, at his command…Talent wanted to believe that, but if it was true then his father would have no problem overwriting the compulsion. This was her own will.

Talent sensed a change in the atmosphere, an electric charge strong enough to paralyze or maybe even to kill an adult fellethump.

He had no choice.

He stepped between his parents, striking his mother across the face as he moved. Her pale skin reddened, her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth fell open.

She looked at him, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. He hated himself for what he had done, but he didn't regret it. Whatever his father was about to do would have been worse.

Talent steeled himself. Speaking with no emotion and as much authority as he could muster, Talent began, “You deceived me, made me believe that you needed my power to protect us when really you had everything you needed all along. You wanted my diato to spite my father, to ensure he would leave no heir and maybe so that you could eliminate him and take his place. Unfortunately, you miscalculated.”

Talent saw as his mother’s features softened, as tears formed in her eyes and her will seemed to be faltering. He continued.

“You ask him to kill himself for the vain hope that your ruling will be undone. That I’ll recover. We all know that is bullshit and neither my father nor I will ever believe your lies again. Return what you stole. Give back my diato and let me grow into the shield I was meant to be. Let me the light that protects my people.”

Meyori couldn’t hold back her tears as she looked at son. She saw surprising little of the gentle boy she’d raised and far too much of the brutal Lord his father wanted him to be. His words were a dagger pressed slowly, deliberately, into her heart. Meyori didn’t know where she went wrong, but as she grieved her loss, her conviction was reaffirmed. Talent could not be allowed to reclaim his diato until Lord Asher no longer drew breath.

She looked in her son’s eyes, and spoke. She spoke not as a mother, but as a lord. She spoke to another high lord and she used the power she stole to make her voice impossible to ignore.

“Do not ask me again. The answer will always be no."

Talent's eyes widened in surprise as her words resonated with his entire being. He felt the power that he’d loaned to her as the ruling settled on him. It was like a heavy blanket suffocating him and draining the life from his limbs. It was so strong, and so oppressive that he struggled to breathe when he tried to ask again. It was a firm ruling and Talent would die before he ever managed to overcome it.

Lord Asher was furious. His eyes burned yellow as he stared at the woman who refused to give up. He looked at his son and asked, “How did you fail? How can you be so pathetic?”

Without waiting for a response, Lord Asher turned and left.

Talent knew he should feel anger, but he didn't. He felt relief and sadness, regret and longing. He knew that he would never have his mother again. He also knew that he would never be the son she wanted. Because of her actions, her choices, he knew that he would always be a disappointment to his father.