Nathanael

I was terrified of the sky. I had only ever seen it through windows and it seemed endless like a sea you could drown in. I would lay with my back to the window, in the sun so I would not have to look up into the sky. I lay like a cat, stretched out on a green fainting couch in front of the largest window in the cabin.

A sleepless night and half a day had passed since I learned I would die. I was drowsy as I had fought to go to sleep the night prior. It had taken my mother laying with me so that I would finally fall asleep only to wake in spurts to see if she was still there. Thom had not meant to make sleep fearful for me, but the idea of going into a long sleep that took me away from my family terrified me. It had not helped that my father was grieved with my anger, and he had chastised me for it. Anger was no emotion for a Prince or a King to display, that ‘was allowing the emotion to control you instead of you controlling it’. I was not allowed to show a temper.

Today Drefan came home from a nearly year-long trip north. I did not know why he had gone, only that he had gone north and come home. Why did he have to come back? It wasn’t that I disliked him, but the house was much more peaceful without him here. I could remember yelling and arguing at all hours of the night. I remembered Thom distraught one evening, coming to me, keeping me from going into the basement. I learned later from overhearing that Drefan had cut himself, deep this time, and had been bleeding in his room until his mother had bound the wounds.

But I shouldn’t think bad things about Drefan. His family was that much happier when he was around, especially Thom. I just didn’t understand why Drefan did the things he did. Why did he cut himself? Wouldn’t that just hurt?

I bucked up my courage and turned to look through the window at the Sovereign Guard who sat on the front porch steps. There were always at least two guards on duty at the cabin, but both of them stuck close to the front and back doors. Two of the guards were from Royale, and two were from Camar’a. The two from Camar’a were part of the Sovereign Guard, they protected the royal family and could be recognized by their uniforms. A gold, black, and aqua brocade coat over a gold and aqua vest beneath, layered over the aqua tights that slipped into black knee-high leather boots. The two from Royale were called Black Guards and they wore a black with gold button coat that was embellished on the collar and cuffs.

My eyes strayed to the kitchen which was the second door to my right. The kitchen knives were all in a wooden holder. Why did Drefan cut himself? What did he get from doing so? Standing, shaking, my blanket fell to my feet as I looked around our living room at the wooden furniture and center table. Hung on the wall were small paintings of my ancestors. I walked into the kitchen, the un-shaded windows providing the only light. Taking a large knife from the holder, I curiously stared at it, and then my forearm. I wasn’t really thinking then beyond that curiosity and wish to understand Drefan’s obsession.

Laying it against the skin of my lower left arm I chewed on my lip letting it slice. All thought left my body; I gasped, a whine also escaping my lips, finding at that moment that I drew pleasure from pain. I found out later that my eyes would be blood-red as they are every time I experience pain. I could see nothing but a haze of red, but I could hear.

The sound of someone arriving through the teleportation circles.

Fumbling, the kitchen knife slid through my blood-soaked fingers to clatter to the kitchen floor. Blood sprayed from the blade over the tile as my eyes came into focus, to stare at what I had done. Then in slow motion, my eyes moved from the blade to the blood on my arm. It began to flow thick like syrup, rolling off my flesh to drop to the floor below.

Drip…Drip…Drip….

Fearing the worst, that a member of the family had come home early, I grabbed the small dishrag from the counter and with furious pressure clamped it down on my arm. I heard footsteps drawing near and my heart jumped into my throat, with uneven breathing and fear in my eyes.

Thom stood in the kitchen doorway, a small basket in both hands.

Putting the basket down on the kitchen counter, Thom came close to me, concerned.

“Nate?” So many questions were asked through the pronunciation of my name, but most of all why? I couldn’t answer that, I had done it out of curiosity... I started to cry.

“I-I d-don’t know why,” I tried backing away even as my chest tightened and it became harder to breathe. Back hitting the southern kitchen wall.

“Hey, Shhhh…,” Tanned hands reached out, taking my bleeding arm. I watched as Thom took a closer look at the wound.

“Do you like pain?” The question was unexpected and my curious icy blue eyes looked up into a pair of green. Did I? I had not thought of what I was doing once the blade had hit the skin.

“Ye-yes, I do I think,” What else could have been my strange reaction to it? But what did Thom think?

“I see,” he whispered, watching me a moment before continuing, “There is nothing I can do to stop you, but you have to be careful where you are cutting and how much pressure you use. I know Drefan would be able to help us with this.”

A smile lit my features and I pulled my husband into a loose embrace at his understanding. Making sure to keep my head down as I was not wearing one of my cloth masks and I did not want to get Thom sick.

“Did you bring food?” I asked, finding that indeed I was hungry.

“I have, I thought it would be nice to have a mid-day meal together before I have to go watch council with my Father.”

Before anything else, Thom grabbed a cloth from the nearest counter and pressed it down to stop the bleeding. Once this was done I moved so Thom could take the picnic basket to the kitchen table. I made my way past him, going into my bedroom to grab one of my clean cloth masks that sat in a pile by my bedside. I came back to the kitchen, put on the mask, and watched as he took out the loaf of bread and creamy cheese that we would spread over it. Then the pieces of roasted rabbit to go with it. I sat down and listened as Thom told me about some of the academics he had been studying in the mornings. Royalian history, Royalian law, and morality...I did not understand a lot of it but I listened anyway.

Again the sound of the teleportation circles, and moments later Drefan was walking past the northern kitchen doorway.

“Drefan, Nath needs to ask you for something.”

Drefan stops and comes into the kitchen, his brow cocked upwards.

I found the words frozen in my throat, but Thom clasps my hands, “Drefan does it too. He’ll understand. I promise.”

“Drefan, I-I cut myself,” I brought forth the arm that now had a layer of dried blood on it.

Drefan’s other brow rose as well and he would move toward the sink, his back to us both, “And how was it?”

“I-I-,” How was it? How was I to answer that? I stood up and Thom stood behind me, arms loosely wrapped around my middle.

It was only when Drefan looked at us both again that I answered, “I...liked it.”

“Clearly, enough to forget the mess you made,” Drefan joked looking from the blade and blood on the kitchen floor back to me.

“Oh!” I had not even realized I had left that mess; thank goodness it had been Thom and Drefan who came home first.

“Come here,” Drefan calls and I reluctantly make my way to his side. He passes me a rag and I kneel beside him, wiping up the bloody mess I had made.

He would take the knife to the basin, “I’ll clean up the knife. Next time be more careful, and use a bowl if you can so the blood won't get onto your clothes and the furniture.”

Drefan was so calm about all of this, it helped.

“And brat I would keep this from your parents, it's not something they would understand.”

I had already thought about that and I nodded, agreeing with him. I did not want to know how my Mother or Father would react to the cut, to my reaction, any of it. It was best kept a secret.

Drefan stood at the basin cleaning the kitchen knife while Thom and I finished eating the food that Thom had brought home. Once finished, Thom cleaned up our mess and put the basket aside. Drefan had disappeared down into the basement by that point.

“Time for council,” Thom leans and kisses my forehead. Waving to me goodbye as he leaves, and I wave back.

Not knowing what to do with the bloody rags, I picked them up and made my way to the basement stairs. From the living room, the hall was straight back, winding past the basement door, with my room to the left. I would close the door behind me and I blink as I adjusted to the much darker environment. Bare stone walls surrounded me as I walked down stone stairs. I held onto the wooden railing until I felt the bottom where pelts warmed the otherwise cold stone floor. I wiggled my bare toes and would set the rags beside the large laundry bucket and washboard. I would need help washing the rags. It was silent down here, where was Drefan?

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Walking past the laundry area, Thom’s room was at the north end, with his door left partially open. His name had been carved into the wood, just like mine and Drefan’s. I touched those indents with my fingers. With how different Thom and Drefan were, they were almost opposites; which made it hard to believe they were related.

Normally Drefan’s door was closed and locked, but with Drefan home, I found it unlocked and open. Two small candles on either side of his bed were lit as well as a candle beside an altar. This altar had a black marble figure seated wearing a dark grey robe. Its head was a plume of black flames, indistinct with no face. On its lap was a human skull. On the left side of the altar was a black gem that resembled a diamond lying upon a plate of what looked like the dust of the same thing. Various leaves lay littered over the dresser altar. There were different kinds of tree bark as well as small bones around the statue.

My attention was held by the strange imagery in front of me. So I had not asked myself where Drefan was. The older male grabbed me by the scruff of my tunic and pulled me into the room that smelled of strange aromas. Slamming me back into the wall beside the door I gasped as my head hit the stone wall, hands moving up to cradle my skull.

“What are you doing down here?!” Drefan turns us both, throwing me onto his bed and I curl into myself at the pain that spreads through my head, a ringing in my ears.

I stayed silent, looking up at Drefan with tears in my eyes.

“Peter will nullify everything if he knows about the altar,” grabbing my arm Drefan drags me closer to himself across the bed. “You will tell them nothing, do you understand? You saw nothing!”

I didn’t understand any of this, all I knew was that my head hurt and Drefan was angry at me. Where he held my arm, there was pain too as bruises bloomed from his heavy fingertips on my skin. I nodded then, not trusting my voice, afraid.

“Fuck,” Drefan pulls away from me, making fists as we both hear multiple footsteps upstairs. “Just go, tell them you fell. Don’t say a word.”

I would slowly sit up, nauseous. I forced myself to stand even though things were uneven and would not stop moving. I did not know if I would make it up the stairs but I wanted out of that room, away from Drefan, and away from the altar that was the reason for my pain.

“Nathanael?” I knew that voice, Mother!

“Momma?” I called back and pulled down my sleeve to hide the bruises there, giving up a whimpering sound from the bottom of the stairs.

Elaina came down the stairs enveloping me in her arms, “What happened?”

“I tripped when I was going down the stairs. I tripped.”

I gave no explanation for why I was down here, I was an awful liar, and this lie was enough already to make me feel guilty.

“My head hurts,” I gave and she gasped, kissing my forehead.

“Peter!”

My Father was there then, coming down the stairs and picking me up to bring me back up to the main level. I was carried into my room and settled onto my bed, where, in safety and comfort I clutched onto my Mother as I started to cry. Clinging to her dress I gave up shallow sobs, hurting and not understanding why Drefan was so angry with me. What was that altar? What were all the things laid around it? Why was it bad and if it was bad, then why did Drefan have it? What had he meant when he said Peter would nullify everything? What did that mean?

“Nathanael, I think it's best if you lay down for a little while,” my Mother explained to me and would help me get under the covers. “If you're sleepy don’t fight it, just rest.” My father casts an aura of healing over me and as the light encases me the pressure releases from my skull. But I did not want to sleep! I fought it with a defiant pout and my Mother wrapped her arms around me. “Shhh...sleep,” she whispers and it is not long after that I reluctantly fall asleep. My body was too tired to fight for long.

I had slept all day and it was night As I approached the stairs to my parent's room, I heard them talking in somewhat raised voices. The second level of the cabin was small, with only two bedrooms, my parents and Thom’s parents across from each other. I crawled up the stairs in part to be quieter than usual and out of concern for my earlier head injury. I did not know if it had been fully healed by the spell my father had cast upon me. But better safe than sorry.

“Enough, we both know that this conversation is pointless Elaina.”

There was a moment of silence that followed Peter’s words and my Mother is the one to speak next.

“I found bloody rags by the wash basket. At first, I thought they were Drefan’s but when Nathanael was sleeping this afternoon he kept whimpering when I touched his left arm. There was a wound there that was not from a fall down the stairs.”

“What? What was it?”

“I found a cut down his left arm, a cut that could only have been self-inflicted; it was made with a knife.”

“Are you...are you sure it’s self-inflicted?”

“It was done with a knife, and I cannot imagine Thom or Drefan cutting Nathanael with a knife like that.”

I could feel the sorrow through the doorway, and my father’s...disgust?

"Our son is a cutter? A Masochist?" the words were a mixture of disbelief and distaste, “Haven’t we taught him what such perverse acts mean to his spirit?”

To lose the spirit; the sacred breath given by Reinn Anon, Lord of Holy Light and Storms in the beginnings was no life at all. It was a fate worse than death to let loose the sacred light locked within the shell.

What had I done? I wasn’t like Drefan, I had Reinn’s holy light inside of me, given to me by our Lord’s sacred breath. By opening the flesh, that light, that breath deserted me. It did not matter that I had not seen it escape my skin when I cut, it was based on faith, the conviction in something greater than myself.

My thoughts had turned inwards and I had failed to make out what was being said by my parents. But I paid attention now and the words burned my heart.

“...He must realize without the light of his soul he is only a shell, a...Monster?”

Swallowing my tears I reared back and away from the door, no longer able to listen to them talk about me anymore. But I did not want them to know I had been there. They knew of my wrongdoing and that was awful enough, but for them to know I was eavesdropping was that much worse. Would they have said these things to my face? I don’t know. But the words had been said and there was no way to go back to a time before then.

I clung to the wall as I made my way downstairs, the words ringing in my mind.

Shell...

Monster.

What did it mean to be a monster? I only knew that it was something you never wanted to hear your loved ones call you.

Thom was not there that night, sleeping at the Royalian palace. I had no one I could go to, as I knew the guards would bring me to my parents. But Drefan...he had reasons to avoid anything being said to them. But he had injured me earlier, did it make sense to go down to him? All I knew was that I did not want to be alone and I could not go to those that should have been the first ones I ran to.

The stairs creaked beneath my feet again as I descended into the basement. I could see flickering light around the corner and I followed it in the darkness. I peered with fear into Drefan’s room, and I saw that he had his back to me. On his bed were saddlebags that were already packed. So he was leaving again?

I sniffled and Drefan tensed, turning to see me in the doorway. His brows furrowed at the sight of my tear-stained face and he unfurled to his feet from in front of that nameless altar.

“Brat?”

Why did he constantly call me that? I rubbed my eyes trying to not cry harder. I was done with being called awful things for one night!

Shaking fingers were laid on my shoulder and I looked up at him, doubtful, was he going to hurt me again?

He asks, “What happened?”

I shook my head, arms wrapping about my middle. The wound still hurt too deep and I swallowed looking past him, “Who is that?” I wanted to know what that altar was.

“Ah...Lord Nanqa. Lord of Darkness and Undead.”

“Oh…” Now I understood. Yes, my parents would have been angry, terribly angry to know the Lord of Darkness had an altar in their home.

“About earlier…” Drefan grasps my shoulder, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

It was nice hearing that and I nodded.

“Where are you going, Drefan?”

“You got to keep this one to yourself as well alright. I’m going to what we call the Necromantic Bastion. It’s where the undead kingdom is.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to learn more necromancy from some of the undead there and I have a friend that I need to take there.”

“An undead friend?”

Drefan chuckles, “Yes. His name is Yeshe, he was a palace guard. I’m looking out for him now.”

I looked around the room again and then at his large bed, “Could I...stay here?”

“What? Sleep here? I guess… if you tell me what happened.”

I made a face of protest at Drefan, scrunching my features which only made Drefan chuckle that much more.

But I relented.

“Papa said...I was a monster.”

Drefan goes quiet, his brows furrowing that much deeper and he shakes his head, “You're not a monster. It’s people like me that your parents think are monsters.”

“They found out about the cut and-,” I sniffled again and bit into my lip.

“And for that, they call you a monster?”

There is plenty of anger in Drefan’s features as he half turns away from me, as though he was trying to calm himself.

“You're not a monster, Nathan. I know my words don’t mean anything against the words of your parents but I’m going to say it anyway. You’re not a monster.”

“But you believe you are?”

Drefan turned back to me, flashing a grin at me, pain in his eyes. He grabs at his left sleeve, pulling it up to show the jagged letters scarred into the flesh of his left arm that spelled the word that I was coming to hate.

Monster.

He speaks with conviction, “If you are a monster, little one, then know that you’re not alone.”

Drefan pulls down his sleeve even as I still stare at the letters, wondering what the scars would feel like beneath my fingertips.

“Alright. It’s late, you should get some sleep. At this point, I’m unlikely to sleep anyway.”

Biting harder into my bottom lip I nod, pulling my thoughts away from what he had shown me.

“Drefan, could you...give Nanqa a prayer for me?”

There was silence as Drefan stared at me, “I...suppose. You realize Reinn may not be happy about that.”

“I...I know. Just ask him to look after Thom for me? Thom’s his, so he should be willing to do that? Right?”

“He should. I’ll add that to my prayers before I leave.”

“Thank you!”

I hugged Drefan who was startled and tense in my arms. But it didn’t matter, I was happy that Drefan would ask that prayer for me. It was almost enough to forget what father had said, almost. I pulled back the covers and slipped into Drefan’s bed watching him as he goes through some rituals I do not understand.

“Drefan when you come home, could you teach me about Nanqa?”

He looked back at me suspiciously and I continued, “I want to understand, and if I’m supposed to rule with Thom someday shouldn’t I know about your god?”

“You should. I’m not much of a teacher but when I’m done with my training in the necromantic bastion I will do what I can to teach you about Nanqa and Royale.”

Happy with that I took in a deep breath laying there, staring up at the wood ceiling. It was hard to sleep with my worries of never waking up and now I had to try to forget what father had called me. But when I finally closed my eyes, sleep came and my dreams were uneasy, blood dripping ever downwards…

Drip…Drip…Drip….