Chapter 532: Star Child
A pair of servants waited at the Gale Manor’s front door as the carriage arrived. They bowed as Stryg walked out and fell into line behind him.
He glanced at the servants then at Gale and Gian, “Is this really necessary?”
“Your life will only become busier, not simpler,” said Gale. “Delegating is the name of the game. Trust me, having people to take care of your everyday mundane tasks will save you a lot of time and stress.”
“Like changing my clothes?” he asked dryly. Having a pair of older women dressing him this morning had been anything but pleasant. He felt like an invalid. The Sylvan had no room for invalids.
“Yes, precisely. Our lord is in need of a change of clothes, preferably something more plebeian so as to not stand out even in the Commoner District.”
“At once, Lady Gale,” the two nodded and hurried off down a different corridor.
“See? Wasn’t that easy?” Gale gestured with a flick of her fingers. “They’ll be in your rooms in a few minutes. You can have some tea or bloodwine while we wait.”
“No bloodwine, we don’t want Stryg getting drunk before meeting with the Lunar Elects,” said Gian.
“Right, some tea then.”
“I’ll be fine with just water. Actually…” Stryg paused in his steps. He had been avoiding them long enough. His thoughts on the events the last few days were still a jumble, but he couldn’t avoid his family any longer. “Can you point me to Feli and Rhian’s rooms?”
“I’ll take you to them, my lord,” offered Gian.
Gale stepped back and inclined her head in a small bow. “I’ll go and prepare an honor guard for the journey.”
“I don’t need an honor guard just to go to the Commoner District,” said Stryg with a frown.
“You are the lord of a Ruling House, it is customary, especially in a time of war.”
“Gale is right, Stryg. Appearances matter more than one might think, especially when in a position of power.”
Stryg shook his head. “That’s my point. I don’t want to be seen flanked by vampires clad in platemail when I go to speak with the Lunar Elects.”
“Very well, but at least allow me to accompany you until we reach the edge of the Sylvan camp. The streets outside are still chaotic, the last thing we want is for a fight to break out amongst desperate citizens hoping to overwhelm a lone traveler.”
“Okay,” he replied reluctantly.
Gale nodded and left without another word.
~~~
Gian led Stryg down two flights of stairs and down several corridors before finally arriving at the North Wing of the manor. A dozen heavy oak doors line the halls. Each doorway was carved with interweaving vines covered in sigils and nestling small magestones. Protective enchantments to ensure the occupants’ safety and privacy.
Stryg marveled at the sheer complexity of each doorway. The craftsmanship alone would have left any Sylvan carpenter impressed. And the intricate sigil work denoted the work of a Brown archmage. The whole place was a small fortress and must have cost a fortune.
Pulling out a key, Gian gestured to a door down the hall. “Mistress Feli and Rhiannon are staying behind that door. I’ll leave you to your reunion. When you are ready, Gale will be waiting for you in the courtyard.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I have other matters to attend to. If you’ll excuse me,” Gian bowed and walked off.
Stryg watched the elder vampire disappear down the corridor. A part of Stryg told him to keep on walking and speak to Feli, but another part of him just wanted to stay there. It was easier than finding the words that could somehow encapsulate everything he felt. He sighed to himself and dragged his feet forward.
“Hello, star child.”
Stryg jumped and whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching to Krikolm at his waist. Holo sat on the windowsill, overlooking the gardens between the Gale and Veres manors. He hadn’t noticed her. Usually, he’d pick up the scents of anyone nearby at the very least, but somehow he had completely missed her.
“Relax, little brother.” She shifted her gaze and looked him over. A lazy smirk crossed her lips. “If I wanted to harm you I would have done so long ago.”
He suddenly felt silly standing there while gripping Krikolm half-unsheathed. He relaxed his stiff muscles and sheathed the blade. “You’re still here…”
“Where did you think I’d be?”
“Anywhere else? You usually don’t stay in one place for very long.”
“True enough, it’s our nature.” Holo shrugged, “As Travelers we tend to wander from one place to another.”
“Travelers…? As in—?”
“The sons and daughters of Stjerne, yes.”
Stryg scowled. “Stjerne isn’t my father and you’re not my sister.”
“Semantics, ey?” she grinned. “Technically, I’m your half-sister. And our father’s true name is the Calamity, Death. Stjerne is simply one of his divine aspects. An aspect that you and I both inherited.”
“Inherited?” he muttered skeptically.
“You may not consider him your father, I don’t blame you, but Death’s blood runs through your veins. It’s clear you have inherited the divine aspect of the Traveler, just like me. That is not an opinion, that is fact. Not surprising, really. We were both born in the Ebon Realm.”
“Aspect of the Traveler… What exactly is an aspect?”
“Divine aspect,” she corrected.
“What is a divine aspect? And how is it ‘clear’ to you that I somehow have it?”
“Look, star child—”
“—Don’t call me that.”
“When we first met you and I journeyed across the valley together. You told me stories about yourself and though the details may have meant little to you, to me they spoke true about your nature. Ever since a child you’ve never been able to sit still in one place, wandering out from your village on a daily basis. That is no mere coincidence. Divine aspects are a part of you as much as your arm or leg. And in our case, whether we wish to or not we find ourselves wandering from one place to another.”
Stolen story; please report.
He crossed his arms. “Are you saying it’s not my choice? That it’s out of my control?”
“Do you control your hand? How it moves? What it touches?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously,” she smiled. “But did you choose for your hand to be attached to your body? Or was it simply there? Always a part of you, just like your eyes or your mind.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There is much you don’t understand. It’s why Melantha and I have decided to stay here awhile. I don’t mean to sound condescending, but Stryg you are still so young and—”
“I have passed the trials of adulthood in the Sylvan way.”
“You and I both know you failed them.”
“Well, I’ve proven myself since, even the Lunar Elects have acknowledged me.”
“Sure, you’re a ‘mighty adult warrior’ in the eyes of goblinkin, but in the eyes of your true kin,” her eyes shifted into a brilliant lilac, “You are but a baby stumbling in the dark, an owlet who cannot even spread his wings.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The Sylvan are my true kin.”
“You’ve been raised in their culture and in that sense you are Sylvan, certainly. But deep down, you and I both know they are not your kin. They will never truly understand your struggles, your desires, your pain…” She placed her hand on his shoulder, “Melantha and I, we are your kin, your family. And we are here for you.”
He shrugged her off and bared his teeth. “I have a family and they were here when I needed them.”
“Then why haven’t you spoken to them in the last two days? Why do you hesitate to walk into that room?”
“That’s…” his voice trailed off and he found himself staring at his feet.
Holo’s expression softened. “It’s because you don’t know how to tell them who you really are. It’s okay. You will, in time, I’m sure of it. But they won’t understand, not really. That part of you will always remain an enigma to mortals.” She laughed bittersweetly, “How can a mortal understand the struggles of immortality?”
“So what? You’re saying I shouldn’t speak to them?”
“Not at all. Family is important, no matter where or whom you find it in. But there are some burdens that can only be shared with a few, little owlet.”
“I’m not an owl.”
“Clearly. I’d hardly call you more than a hatchling.”
“I’m not a hatchling either.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Then why are there feathers sprouting from your back?”
Stryg spun around and ran his hands over his upper and lower back in a panic, but he found nothing but his cape and tunic. He turned to Holo with a silent glare.
She grinned, “See? You don’t even know what you are. But I do.” Her expression turned grim, “Make no mistake, you are the son of Death, Stryg Veres. Whether you like it or not, death will follow you wherever you go. And if you are not careful, who you are can bring tragedy to those closest to you.”
“...Ananta said something similar.”
“In that, our cousin was right.” Holo pushed open the window and leaned out, “I’m going to be around for a while. When you are ready, come find me. I’ll introduce you to our family.”
She leaped out the window. Stryg rushed over and looked down, but she was gone. The door behind him creaked open.
“Stryg…? It is you!”
He turned just in time to be wrapped up in a bear hug. “Good to see you too, Rhiannon.”
The centaur looked down at him with a grin from ear to ear. “You’re alright. The vampires said you were fine, but we never saw and we thought maybe…” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
Guilt burned in his chest and Stryg suddenly regretted not having come sooner. “I’m sorry. I just—” He had no good excuse. “I’m sorry.”
Rhian shook her head and released him. She sniffed and rolled her shoulders, “Nah, it’s fine. I’m the Spear of Ebon Hollow, nothing I can’t handle.”
“I believe you,” he said warmly.
She smiled at his words. “Well, come in. Feli has been worried sick.” She trotted back into the apartments, ducking her head as she walked underneath the doorway.
Stryg followed after her. He marveled at the size of the interior, the waiting room alone was larger than the entire apartment he had shared with Feli back when he was at the academy.
Rhian caught him staring and smirked. “Pretty nice, ey? You think we can get a place like this later?”
Stryg glanced at Krikolm’s blade, the red sheen glinting in the sunlight of the window. “I think so.”
“Really!?”
“Really.”
“Haha!” Rhian did a little dance in the waiting room, the flooring shaking with every step. “I knew it! That’s the boss for you!”
“It’s chieftain, not boss.”
“Meh, same thing.”
“Not really.”
“What’s the difference? They both give orders don’t they?”
“Well, sometimes, I guess.”
“And you pay me for my work, right?”
“I mean, I don’t really pay you. The three of us share the funds of our tribe. You’re welcome to take whatever coin you need.”
“Really!?”
“Coin you need. And before you ask, five barrels of that dwarven mead you like is not something you need.”
Rhian puffed her cheeks. “That’s your opinion. And you’ve only got one stomach, I’ve got two.”
Stryg laughed, it was good to be back with his family. “You know, I think I can ask one of the servants to bring us a couple of barrels. This place has to have a cellar, right?”
“Are you kidding me? This is the Gale manor, I bet they’ve got tons of cellars!”
“Really?”
“I don’t know, probably, they’re rich.” Rhian shrugged.
“And so are we now,” Stryg muttered.
“Wait? Seriously!?”
“Yeah, I guess.” If what Gian and Gale had told him was true, then his ancestral family was quite rich indeed.
“Are we rich enough to get us a new spear, like a fancy spear?”
“Like the one you broke?” he asked flatly.
“How did you—?”
“I’ll ask the Gales’ smith to commission you two.”
“Hehe, thanks, boss.”
“It’s chief— you know what, never mind.” Stryg didn’t feel like correcting her, he was just happy to see her happy. “Oh, by the way, I changed the name of the tribe.”
“What!? But I already came up with an awesome speech to go with it.”
“It’s still pretty similar.”
“What is it?”
“Just Ebon now.”
“Like the Ebon Tribe?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“I hate it…”
Stryg hissed and jumped at her, his small fangs glistening. Rhian ran across the room shouting in a playful panic.
A bedroom door opened and Feli walked out, “What are you two idiots doing?”
“Feli! I was just— argh! Shit, that hurts!” Rhian howled and hopped on her hooves, while rubbing her foreleg with two fresh red pinpricks.
Stryg licked his bloodied lips and smiled, “Hey, Feli.”
She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway, with an angry raised eyebrow, “And where have you been?”
“Would you like a truth or a lie?”
“The former.”
Stryg exhaled loudly and released all the pent up thoughts colliding in his mind. “I spent the morning convincing the city lords that I was the son of a long-dead legendary vampiress who, by the way, destroyed the ancestral city of the Sylvan.”
“Is that all?”
“I also just talked to a goddess, I think? I don’t know if I can trust anything she says, but if what she says is true then maybe I’m like her…”
“Maybe you’re a god?” Feli asked dryly.
“Well, not a god, at least I don’t think so. Just a titan.”
“A what?”
“A titan. I don’t know much about them, only the stories a dark goddess told me.”
“A dark goddess?”
“Yeah, she’s ancient, like more ancient than the literal Ebon Realm.”
Feli sighed, “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
“Huh?”
“You could have just told me you were with your mom. One of the servants already let me know earlier this morning.”
“I was, but then—”
“Come on, Feli, why are you acting so cold?” Rhian teased. “We both know you were ~super~ worried about Stryg.”
Feli blushed, “Rhian, don’t—!”
“She was praying to Stjerne all morning, asking her patron deity to keep you safe and that’d you find your way back to her unharmed. It’s quite sweet if you ask me.”
“No one asked you anything Rhian,” Feli growled.
“You were praying to Stjerne…?” Stryg muttered.
Feli noticed the change in his voice and wrapped her arms around him. “I was worried about you, especially because you refused to see anyone… But Stjerne brought you back to us safely, that’s all that matters.”
Stryg closed his eyes and buried his face in her shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, he took in a deep breath and simply enjoyed her warmth. “...I’m sorry I was late.”