The ten hour eclipse ended and Ashur had uncovered the sky just as Edric and Joren arrived back at Edric’s keep. The keep was one solid piece of quartzite that had been carved out using shamir worms long ago. The sun, which always appeared on Eos’ horizon, shone upon the rectangular edges of the keep, casting sharp shadows on the fields on its northern side.

Edric entered first through the keep’s main door with Joren following close behind. The inside of the keep was both illuminated and warmed from cages which hung from the ceiling on a chain. Each steel cage contained a reptile which emitted fire from underneath each scale.

“Joren,” said Edric, to get the boy’s attention, “Once you’ve fed all the lamp lizards you can go to bed and get some rest. You did well on this mission, and you’re one step closer to becoming a knight justicar yourself.”

As he opened the chests on shelves lining the walls, taking out the lamp lizard feed, Joren said, “How many more missions, do you think? Before you recommend me for full knighthood, I mean.”

Edric had been about to head upstairs, but he stopped at the bottom step, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. “Well, now, that’s rather hard to quantify, really. I guess it depends on how many more missions until I feel that you’re not likely to go get yourself killed when you do one of these missions on your own. I can’t very well recommend you for knighthood if you’re not ready.”

Joren sighed and donned a leather gauntlet to protect him from the lamp lizards’ heat. “So, I have to be perfect first.”

Edric shrugged. “More or less.”

Joren grunted, shook his head, and slipped feed into one of the cages. “But no one’s perfect.”

“You can be,” said Edric. “And, in time, I believe you will be. It just takes practice. You’re still young, Joren. You only started shaving last year, and you’ve yet to kiss a girl. Enjoy your life where you are, right now, rather than constantly wishing that the future would come sooner. Only the Eternal King may traverse time in either direction, my friend. For all the rest of us, time is a one-way trip.”

Joren took a little more feed from the boxes on the shelves and fed another lamp lizard. “Whatever would I do without your wise platitudes?”

Though the sarcasm in his voice was obvious, Edric remained unmoved and ascended the stairs. At the top of the steps, he turned to the door on the left, his personal quarters, and entered.

While the door was still only partially open, Edric spied an intruder in his peripheral vision, one waiting for him within his bedroom. Channeling his heart toward anger, he drew his arming sword from its sheath and threw the door fully ajar, leaping in. “This will be the last home you invade!”

But when his eyes took stock of the stranger in his room, his anger cooled to relief. The man inside had blood-red hair in curls, gray skin, and a sharp nose. His chin was narrow and his frame slender. He wore a black tunic and leather vest. The bags under his crimson eyes spoke of many sleepless nights, and the darker shades of gray on his cheeks suggested he’d been drinking. The open bottle of pitberry wine in his hand confirmed this.

Edric sheathed his sword. “Feng, you know I don’t like it when you let yourself in.”

“I come with ill news,” said the intruder. “And I didn’t want to wait outside for you to return.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Edric removed his own cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. “Ill news, you say? Is that why you’ve picked up the bottle again.”

Feng held out the pitberry wine to Edric. “You’ll want some too after you hear what I’ve got to say. Father’s dead.”

Edric silently took the bottle and gulped down a swallow. Inwardly, he decided that this was not the time for sorrow, that would come when he attended the funeral. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he said, “Were you there when it happened?”

Feng’s head bobbed up and down. “I was. All those years protecting him against would-be assassins and in the end I couldn’t save him from Void Rot.”

Edric folded his arms and scowled at his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me Father had Void Rot? No one dies of Void Rot overnight.”

Feng took back the bottle of wine and drank from it. “I didn’t know. The physician told me he’d diagnosed him with it a long time ago, but Father swore him to secrecy. Damn old fool was too proud to let anyone know he was suffering.”

“That sounds like him,” said Edric. “Or… well, it sounds like the stories you always told about him.”

Feng patted Edric on the shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to know him better.”

“I’m not,” said Edric. “He had a lot of responsibilities and far too many children to get to know all of them. You said you were there when he died, did he give any last words?”

“Just one,” said Feng. “Gafna.”

Edric folded his arms and leaned against the nearest wall. “With his final breath he called for our mother?”

“No, his final breath was gibberish,” said Feng. “But the last word he said was her name. Maybe he saw her on the other side, waiting for him.”

Edric sighed. “So, the Prince of Eos has gone to be reunited with his third wife. Any word on which of us the sages will name as his successor?”

“Only rumors,” said Feng, “And far too many of those circulating around the palace. Some say Galen, others Zaccur… with over a hundred heirs to choose from the speculation is endless. Even Quillon’s in the running.”

“How?” Edric asked, incredulity in his tone. “Quillon hasn’t been seen on Eos in fifteen years. Last I heard, he joined The Regime.”

“That’s exactly why some think he’ll be the next Prince,” said Feng. “Every merchant who travels the stars comes back talking about how The Regime’s forces keep getting closer and closer to this part of the Cosmos, and may be setting their eyes on Eos.” Feng groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Some theorize that naming Quillon Prince of Eos would peacefully bring us under The Regime’s control rather than forcing us to endure a war.”

Edric smirked. “As if there’s such a thing as peace under The Regime’s control.”

Feng leaned forward, setting the bottle of wine on the floor and clasping his hands together. “Among the many other names I hear people throwing around, there’s one that I’ve heard the sages mention more than the others.” He pointed at Edric. “Yours.”

Edric snorted with laughter. “Me? Really? You think they’ll choose me?”

Feng shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. And, well, why not you? You’ve dedicated your life to the pursuit of justice.”

“A Prince must be more than just,” said Edric.

Feng chuckled. “That’s true. Anyway, I just thought you ought to know, you know, about Father, and that it was better that you hear it from me than from a stranger.”

“Mhmm,” said Edric. “When’s the funeral?”

“Three days,” said Feng. “So, if you have any personal business I’d recommend setting it aside until after that.”