The moon shone brightly on the towers of the Inner Court, shimmering glass windows reflecting the greatness of the inhabitants within as much as the moon’s light. For no one was greater or more powerful than those who resided in the center of the Lands.
In the tallest tower, a curious man stood under the shadow of a Grandfather clock. His long beard was worn by the gift of time while the inquisitive twinkle of his eye sparked more questions than answers.
“Good Festival, Cadmus,” The older man smiled mischievously as he held out a silver tray. Cadmus hesitated before taking the crystal glass full of twinkling purple liquid. The cloudy substance danced in circles before it was lifted to the boy’s lips.
“Thank you, Je-Re.” He mused after downing the potion in one gulp. The delectably sweet aftertaste coated his tongue. In just minutes he would find himself in a world of his wildest imagination. “Only, I must wonder why you deliver my sleep potion in the shadows rather than leaving it in my bed chamber as always…”
“How perceptive…” The hint of a wink sparkled in his grey eyes.
Cadmus cleared his throat. “And?” His eyes were growing tired but Cadmus couldn’t stifle his innate curiosity. A perfect dreamland was a perk of the ruling class, and only the most trusted scholars could draft serene slumber.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Would you rob a tutor of a last farewell to his favorite pupil?”
Cadmus looked down at the old man curiously. It was the Eve of Placement, not the end of the world. “Do you mean to insult me? As if tomorrow changes anything.”
“No, of course not.” Je-Re bowed his head slowly. Cadmus was a true-born son of the highest-ranking lineage in Markom. He didn’t need pathetic Placement officials to know his own fate. “I only mean that tomorrow you will be different. You will be Placed.”
Cadmus scoffed. Every tutor and scholar his entire life had been readying him for this moment. He was sick of it, dreading this day like a child might dread the end of summer.
“You know my parents. There is no questioning who I will become.” Tomorrow he would play the game of Markom, joining whatever grouping he had been assigned as he ‘studied’ his new career and built his own network of influential Ones - as if anything truly mattered when his future had been written for him since his days in the womb.
The boy’s anger dissipated as the potion’s hold on him strengthened. “We are all so very proud of you, Cadmus 01.” The old man reached out to catch the boy as his footing grew tired, guiding him down the hall and into his bed chamber for the last time. “Tomorrow is a big day for all of us. Sleep well.”
With that, Cadmus retreated to the one place that was always safe -- his dreams.