Indenuel cleaned and organized his room. It didn’t take long, as the servants already did most of it while he had been out training with Martin yesterday. He wasn’t sure where the tradition started, but the first day of the holiday was always spent cleaning and organizing. Lucia told him it was both a physical and a spiritual organizing. One didn’t just prepare one’s physical place for the new year, but their mental space as well. The new year technically wouldn’t happen for another two days. Tomorrow would be a day dedicated to travel so people could reunite with their families in far off places. The twins and Matteo would arrive tomorrow, then the real first day of Spring and the new year would be celebrated. At Mountain Pass they had a huge town party that lasted well into the night with dancing. Sometimes Lucia, Indenuel, and the children were invited, and sometimes they stayed on the edges of the party to run if they needed to. Here in Santollia City he, Matteo, and the twins would attend the Spring Ball at the palace. A huge feast with dancing, and they would be guests of honor.
There was a knock at his room door as Pablo’s voice came through. “Pardon, sir, but your guest has arrived. He is in your study now.”
Indenuel opened his eyes, surprised. “He’s here early.”
Tolomon shrugged. “Day of travel is tomorrow. He must have been closer than we thought.”
Indenuel stood, uncomfortable with the idea. “Which means the war is closer than we thought.” He walked into the study to see Nathaniel standing there, admiring some of the books. His face broke out into a smile.
“Happy Spring, Indenuel.”
“Happy Spring, Nathaniel.”
Indenuel went to bow, but Nathaniel hugged him instead. Indenuel did his best to hide his smile as he hugged him back. “You look fantastic. I knew you’d exceed my expectations.”
“Look at this.” He broke away and flexed his arm. “I actually have muscle now.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Yes, muscle, but you know that’s not all that makes a man. You are growing into your role. It is incredible to see. Tolomon, hello old friend. I’ll surrender, as I don’t want to make the servants clean any more than they must.”
“Always the considerate nobleman,” Tolomon said as they hugged each other.
The door opened and Pablo walked in with the wine. “Ah yes. Thank you, Pablo. True to your promise and mine, I’ve kept the wine. Shall we have a drink?”
“Of course! Perhaps we should drink it outside. I would hate to bother your servants as they work on cleaning the house,” Nathaniel said.
“I’ve been taking my breakfasts outside. There’s a place set up for it,” Indenuel said as he led the way.
“You’ve been eating outside recently?” Nathaniel asked.
“All winter, actually,” Indenuel said.
Nathaniel gave him a curious look. “Isn’t it rather cold?”
“Not at all. It honestly felt like a nice spring morning all winter.” They all sat down at the table, and Nathaniel had hardly been given his glass of wine when Indenuel leapt at the chance to ask. “How close is the war?”
Nathaniel hid his smile by taking a sip before looking out at the gardens. “Close enough I could travel back in less than a day. Close enough that Derio has direct connection to the General’s tree talker who will revoke my leave if they sense anything amiss. Far enough away that I’m going to enjoy my weeklong vacation and be surprised if I get summoned.” Indenuel nodded, distracted. “We are winning a few battles, despite the odds. The soldiers still have hope in you.”
Indenuel distracted himself with the wonderful flavor of the wine. “The stained-glass windows are finally back in the Cathedral,” he mumbled.
“I went to visit my father in his Cathedral study and saw them,” Nathaniel said as he took another drink. “You can hardly tell anything happened at all. I’m sure there’s a life lesson in there somewhere.”
Indenuel snorted as he looked at his blood red wine. “And you have no idea what they depict?”
“The Warrior and the Savior’s Coming,” Nathaniel said. “The other stories have been lost in time, so my father tells me.” Indenuel returned to his wine. Nathaniel noticed but said nothing.
“So, they let you leave the entire week?” Tolomon asked.
“Yes, they did. I haven’t had the entire Spring Welcoming off for quite some time,” Nathaniel said. “What about you? When’s the last time you heard anything from Vivian?”
Indenuel at first was confused who Vivian was until he realized this was probably Tolomon’s sister.
“I got a letter from her just today. She and her husband are doing well in Mili,” Tolomon said. “Her oldest girl is married, and her two younger boys are both in their apprenticeships.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Children grow far too quickly. I’m sure they’re proud of you, though. Bodyguard for the Warrior himself.”
Tolomon smiled. “She’s just happy to write to me every year, knowing I’m still alive and well.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Every day is a blessing.”
“Hey Eskmenmar I-” The three men turned as Baleeah walked out of the house but froze when she saw Nathaniel, her eyes widening. “Oh.”
“Baleeah,” Indenuel said, setting down his wine glass and standing. “Did you want breakfast?”
She stared at Nathaniel, a frown on her face before she looked down to see his sword. “Yeah. Yeah. I finished my cleaning, for the day, but your servants seem a lot busier.” She was having the conversation with Nathaniel’s sword.
“This is Nathaniel,” Indenuel said.
He stood up and bowed. “Nathaniel of Santollia City.”
“Baleeah of Santollia City,” Baleeah said, curtseying.
Nathaniel said something in perfect Oraminian, which shocked both Indenuel and Baleeah. He didn’t know Nathaniel spoke Oraminian. Baleeah said something else, which he responded to. She giggled, her face turning bright red as she said something back. They kept talking, and she looked more and more at ease as the conversation went on. Nathaniel sounded like he was asking a question, and she pointed at Tolomon. He patted Tolomon on the back and kept talking. Tolomon’s eyes narrowed slightly. Baleeah said something else and Nathaniel burst into hysteric laughter. Tolomon gave a tiny shake of his head as he took a sip of his wine. Baleeah turned to Indenuel, as Nathaniel was still chortling.
“Are Matteo, Isla, and Emilia coming tomorrow?” Baleeah asked.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“They are, yes. Are the others with you? You could always stay here after breakfast.”
“Yeah, the others are here, and nah it’s too boring with just you. I’ll stay longer tomorrow,” Baleeah said before skipping back into the house.
Indenuel smiled as he sat back down. Nathaniel did too, wiping an eye.
“I will have you know it took all winter for those Oraminians to finally look at me without immediately cowering in fear,” Tolomon said.
Nathaniel nodded. “No doubt, my friend. And I did give a glowing remark to your character, if that was any consolation. You’ve done a wonderful job with them. It’s just… they call you Kumanar.”
Tolomon gave a sigh, then braced himself. “Go ahead and tell me. Why do they call me Kumanar?”
“It means precious,” Nathaniel said as he took another sip of wine. “It’s also the most common name for dogs.”
Tolomon shook his head. “Of course it is.”
“I didn’t know you could speak Oraminian.”
Nathaniel nodded. “And Zimoran.”
“And Dengrian too, right?” Tolomon asked.
Nathaniel shook his head. “Just the most common dialect. Each land mass has their own, and I’m not sure if you noticed, but there are a ton of islands there.”
“Wow. I had no idea,” Indenuel said.
“Did you expect anything less from a son of a High Elder who thought for a while he was going to be a politician? But enough of that. I’m impressed you’ve made friends with the entire refugee camp,” Nathaniel said before taking another sip.
“There is the language barrier, but considering we’re all tree talkers in a way, it helps with part of the communication,” Indenuel said.
Nathaniel gave another one of his proud smiles aimed right at Indenuel before looking out among the gardens again.
“So…” Indenuel started to say, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. “So the whole point of the wine was to have… you were going to talk some sense into me?”
Nathaniel smiled again. “So much has happened since you saved Tolomon’s life.”
“Foolishly,” Tolomon said into his wine glass.
“I don’t regret it,” Indenuel said. “Honestly, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
“The entire city would have been destroyed if it wasn’t for you,” Nathaniel added.
“Just don’t do it again,” Tolomon said, not looking at anyone.
Nathaniel leaned back as he looked at the gardens. “Sometimes the best conversations to have is where you talk of nothing in particular. You just sit around talking and realize you would sacrifice everything for the people sitting by you, and they would do the same for you.”
Indenuel nodded, frowning. “Is it exhausting being so good all the time?”
Tolomon snorted into his wine glass. Nathaniel gave him a humorous look before turning toward Indenuel. “What do you mean?”
“You are literally the embodiment of a noble. Don’t you ever want to – I don’t know, snap?” Indenuel asked.
Nathaniel watched him carefully. “Do you ever feel like you want to snap?”
Indenuel looked down, staring at his wine glass. “Pretty sure I have already. I’m just trying to climb back out of the hole.”
“You’re out of the hole already. You have done a lot of good this winter,” Nathaniel said.
He didn’t know what to say to that. Nathaniel and Tolomon struck up another conversation. Despite him dodging the subject, Nathaniel was too much of a noble, seeing the good in too many people. Indenuel honestly tried, but the pressures of war, the General telling him to be ready for a battle he was unprepared for, he doubted he was ready. The people believed he would win, but everything he and the High Elders knew, everything they kept from the public, Indenuel felt more certain he was going to die.
“Nathaniel-” he stared before realizing the two men were having a conversation. Nathaniel glanced over at him, not at all bothered at this interruption.
“Yes?” Nathaniel asked.
“Sorry, if you-”
“No, go ahead, son.” Nathaniel said before holding back a smile, glancing at his wine glass. “Indenuel. Go ahead, Indenuel. Forgive me, I talked with my boys for a bit before coming here. They are still on my mind.” He took a sip of wine, waiting as Tolomon smirked.
Indenuel’s cheeks warmed. It wasn’t in mortification, though his warming cheeks did eventually cause him embarrassment. If Nathaniel asking for forgiveness about what he said meant to change it, then Indenuel didn’t want to grant forgiveness, but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.
Indenuel looked away, losing his nerve as the question he wanted to ask threatened to tumble out. He didn’t want to ask Nathaniel, but he needed this peace of mind. “If… if something…” He cleared his throat. “If I were to die, what would happen to Matteo, Isla, and Emilia?”
Nathaniel paused, taking in Indenuel’s face before setting his wine glass down. “They are attending school using funds from the King’s treasury. They would continue to go to school, and my father would make sure they would be set up for life. Good marriages for the girls, a life in any profession Matteo desires. My mother would take them in as her own children as she has with many others, and they would never feel lonely or hungry again, be that a good or bad thing.”
Indenuel gave a small laugh, which caused a tear to fall down his cheek and he looked away, nodding. “Alright. Thank you,” he said quietly, brushing away the tear. “That is good to know.”
“Do you think you’re going to die fulfilling the prophecy?” Nathaniel asked, still looking him in the eye even though Indenuel couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I think… the prophet was deceived in what he saw,” Indenuel said slowly. “He didn’t see all of it. And the parts he didn’t see were that I lost. And will be killed.”
“You cannot know that for certain,” Nathaniel said.
“It’s the only thing that makes the most sense,” Indenuel said, finally meeting his gaze. “They are sending me out to war, barely six months of sword training, and my healing is about where any other medical healer would be.”
“But your other powers?” Nathaniel asked.
Indenuel gave a small nod. “Back to… back to where they were.”
Nathaniel toasted with his wine glass. “See? You still have the upper hand.”
Indenuel sighed. “I just don’t get it. I don’t understand how it’s going to work without me failing miserably and dying. And for some reason it’s going to be-” Indenuel paused, studied Nathaniel’s face, then looked down again.
“Is that still bothering you?” Tolomon asked.
“Yes, it is,” Indenuel said.
“Go ahead then. I would argue Nathaniel knows his own father better than anyone here. See what he thinks of High Elder Cristoval’s so-called prophecy,” Tolomon said.
Nathaniel gave Tolomon a curious look. Indenuel sighed. “Cristoval believes I’m going to die. And Martin is going to be the one to kill me.”
Nathaniel watched Indenuel, then studied Tolomon, who shrugged before leaning back with his glass of wine. Nathaniel turned back to Indenuel. “I beg your pardon, but… what?”
Indenuel gave more detail about that day, trying to remember the exact wording of what Cristoval said, but it had been a while ago. Nathaniel clearly didn’t believe a single word of it.
“My father would not step foot on a battlefield, let alone one as deadly as would require your assistance. Yes, he is a tactical genius, he knows the ins and outs of this war and was instrumental in ending the last one, but…” Nathaniel shook his head. “The only way he’d kill you was if he tripped while holding a corrupted sword that would kill you the moment it pierced your skin. Even then he would do everything in his power to heal you. It is far more likely High Elder Cristoval was the one confused.”
Indenuel nodded, trying desperately to take comfort from this because he needed to feel it. Too many nights now he had gone to bed, his stomach fuller with anxiety than food, and woke up with no dreams to haunt or heal him. Any time he grew in confidence, Pablo would walk in with a letter, and he would cower at the thought of it being from the General.
“Sometimes I despise that prophecy.”
Indenuel realized Nathaniel’s gaze never left his face. “Sorry?”
He took another sip before looking at Tolomon. “Do you remember when we were twenty?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Just finishing up military training,” Nathaniel said. “Thinking we were about to save the world.”
Tolomon snorted. “Met a few individuals who were quite sure they were the Warrior, but their powers were just in hibernation.”
“I’d never wish it on anyone now,” Nathaniel said, turning a sad eye toward Indenuel. “I promise you this. If, on the odd chance that you are right and you do fail, it wouldn’t be your fault. It would be ours.”
Indenuel swallowed the last of his wine. “What?”
“My father talked about not giving too many details of the prophecy because they don’t want Kiam to be prepared for you, but I now worry what the Santollians would do if they knew every detail. What we’ve already done. There are people who refuse to help because they believe you’re going to fix everything for them. We made a mess of things because we expected the maid to come clean it up for us. We neglected the simple acts of being kind to our neighboring countries and went to war with them to try and conquer the world because we knew you’d be here eventually.” Nathaniel shook his head. “Now that I’ve seen the stress it’s caused you, with Eduardo being just a few years younger…” He shook his head again. “I’m sorry. Santollia should have remembered what it was like to be twenty years old, and we should have never asked you to do something we ourselves aren’t willing to do.” Nathaniel patted Indenuel’s shoulder. He found strange comfort in Nathaniel’s words. “You won’t fail, Indenuel. I’ll do everything I can to be with you in that final battle. And if you die, it will be on Santollia’s shoulders.” He finished the last of his wine, a serious look crossing his face. “It will be on the High Elders’ shoulders,” he corrected, far more quietly.