Eramus stared out his window, watching the sun peek over the mountains. His thoughts wandered over the memories the night had presented. He'd seen his mother. For the first time in over a decade he knew her face, recognized the sound of her voice. She had wanted to protect him from his uncle and planned to send him away.
His uncle.Sytal. The information made his heart race. At first, Eramus thought the name was nothing more than coincidence, but the young handmaiden had confirmed the truth, addressing his mother asprincessandyour highness. Royalty flowed through his blood, and Eramus had once lived at the palace in Izarden.
He ran his fingers through his hair. Trying to piece together his past was frustrating. His mother had sent him away to keep him from his uncle's grasp, and based on his previous dreams, Eramus concluded his journey with the young handmaiden had ended in disaster. The ship had capsized into the sea, and he could only speculate that his family presumed him dead.
But why had his mother not gone with him? Why had she chosen to stay? And his father…where was he?
Eramus groaned. He might never have all the answers, but he knew where to start. He needed to see Morzaun.
Three days had passed since Morzaun trained Eramus in the meadow. He had hoped to spend time with Evree until the man returned, but Arnan had stolen her attention…or at least tried to. Her uncle put every excuse he knew into play, asking for help with the apple harvest and begging her to accompany the field workers. But his efforts didn't stop Evree from passing Eramus coy smiles or occasional winks. Arnan had even caught her a time or two, and the deep scowls that followed made them both laugh.
With Evree preoccupied, Eramus spent his time searching for work with no success. Too many of the villagers distrusted him, and Eramus suspected Arnan may have put out a warning against his hire.
But today, Eramus would go to the meadow and speak with Morzaun. He still preferred that Evree wasn't around when the man appeared, so Arnan's intervention would prove beneficial for now.
"You're off again, are you?" asked Inara, her brows raised. He'd yet to tell her about Morzaun, mostly because he didn't want her to worry. Meeting with a stranger alone in the meadow wasn't exactly the wisest decision he'd ever made.
"Afraid so. Since I can't work, I figured practicing my magic wouldn't hurt. I just want to have better control over it."
She nodded, but her lips pursed. "Don't understand why Arnan is so insistent on making your life miserable. You've done nothing to deserve it."
Eramus chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Everything will be fine, Mother. Don't worry yourself over it."
He bid her goodbye and made his way to the meadow. The sun warmed his skin and the stuffy air stole his breath. Morzaun was waiting when he arrived, standing in the shaded grass beneath the oaks in his usual black attire.
"Ah, Eramus. I hope you are well?"
He wasn't sure how to answer that. Between his frustrations with the villagers and the unanswered questions, his mood could be better. "I'm fine."
Morzaun's brows flew to the top of his forehead. "Something is bothering you?"
Eramus chewed his cheek for a moment. "My people don't trust me. I've lost the only work I had…my future livelihood. Evree's uncle intends to send me away, and I'm bombarded every night with dreams I don't understand." The words spilled so quickly from his lips he was gasping by the time he finished.
Morzaun sighed. "Well, I can't offer advice on how your village treats you. People have never been accepting of our power, but perhaps I can provide some guidance about these dreams. What is it you see in them?"
"I used my power against several men. They were taunting me about my father, calling him a traitor. Another man stopped me when I ran away, said he was my uncle. He wanted to use my power for his own purposes. My mother…" He choked on the word. Eramus couldn't remember anything about her beyond what he saw in his dreams, but in those brief moments, he had felt her love. "She sent me away to protect me from him."
"You saw your mother?" Morzaun's eyes darkened. "Did you learn anything else in this dream?"
"A woman addressed my mother asprincess. She was royalty.I'mroyalty."
Eramus glanced at Morzaun. His expression displayed no astonishment. How could the revelation not come as a surprise? Unless he already knew. Morzaun was more aware of his past than he had let on.
"I want you to tell me what you know," said Eramus.
Morzaun met his gaze. "You're better off not knowing."
Warmth flooded through his body, and his hands balled into fists. "I'm sick of not knowing who I am! Why do you hesitate? Why keep the information from me? I have a right to know what happened to my family."
Morzaun placed his hand on the trunk of the thick oak and pressed his fingers into the deep grooves of the bark. "I don't wish to cause you more pain, Eramus, but if you insist on having the details, then I will give them to you."
Eramus relaxed. All he wanted was to understand himself, and the answers seemed just out of his reach. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to demand it from you, but I've never been so close to having answers. Any information you share brings me that much closer to the truth."
Morzaun considered him for a moment and then nodded. "Before you were born, your uncle inherited the throne of Izarden. Sytal was nothing like his father. He desired power, and he sacrificed countless lives to get it. He demanded your father use his power to expand our kingdom, to overthrow the other kings of Virgamor and unite our land under his supreme rule. Your father refused. Sytal banished him, but because he feared the power your father possessed, he held your mother captive as insurance."
"So, my father's abandonment was an effort to protect her?"
"Yes, and to protect you. For eight years the two of you lived at the palace in Izarden under tight watch. Unbeknownst to Sytal, your mother sent correspondences to your father regularly. She kept him informed of Sytal's plans and acts of war, and your father even took to disrupting a few of them."
