“And what was the name of the killer of the would-be King?” There was an odd tilt in the man’s voice, hinting at something.”
            “Edrin.” Edaran did not want to say any more. He wanted to leave the room and the old man to his odd fancies.
            “And the name of Edrin’s House?” He pushed. Why did he keep asking? Was it not uncomfortable for the both of them?
            “The House he came from, betraying both his King and his family and forsaking his oaths, was the House of Drayvon.”
            There, he had said it. The awful truth behind the history of his family.
            “Indeed. The repercussions of this were vast and have rippled through the ages past. It seemed as if the King had no heirs at that time, and the traitor had taken his wife. What did this entail, one must wonder?” This was a much more difficult question to answer. He knew the story, not the history. He could not let his father down.
            “Erm Edrin’s family were distantly related to the head of the Drayvon family. That head disavowed Edrin and his close relatives, so they called themselves the Drays.” That was it, he would refuse to say any more.
            “That is the essenve of it, the intricacies can wait for another time, I suppose.” He patted Edaran on the shoulder. He had to stop himself from squirming away. “I know this was hard for you, but it is important to know from whence you came.” He opened a large book that had been placed on the table before Edaran had entered. It was a large tome, filled with names. “Oft we find that, the past is a window to the future.” The old man’s whiskers rose. “Thus from the past, we find, patterns can emerge, making this knowledge invaluable, it would seem.” He flipped through the crackling pages until he found the one he was looking for. His narrowed eyes squinted down the list, following his finger.
            Edaran lifted himself in his seat, curious to see what he was looking for.
            “Ah, here we are.” He tapped his finger on a particular name. “Eglan Drayvon, the point at which our two houses diverged but at which our houses were directly united.” There was a tiny picture of this man, with the same chestnut hair like his own, and the eyes of Eldin. It was strange to see similarities between the two Houses. “Knowing your roots, you can never discount it. My ancestor fought to break the ties between us for fear of losing his honour, sacrificing another’s. Yet even now, young Edaran, the two of us are related.” He spoke. “I hope one day you shall understand this better.” He snapped the tome shut to a cloud of dust that made him cough. “Now go and take your break, we shal meet again tomorrow.” He ordered, and Edaran happily obeyed.
            He felt strange. Was the old steward trying to create some kind of bond?
            Edaran did not want one. He wanted nothing to do with that repugnant Eldin. He touched his shoulder again without realising it.

The End

31 comments about this story Feed