Page 67 of Of Empires and Dust

“You know what he was like, Calen.”

“Do I? Do I really? I feel like I didn’t know him at all.”

“That’s as idiotic a thing as you’ve ever said. Your father hid things from you for a reason, but he was always the same man who raised you. He was stubborn, pig-headed, and always seemed to do things the hard way. He held grudges and spent more time worrying about the people he cared for than could possibly be healthy. Sound familiar?”

Calen let out a laugh, sitting back in his chair.

“He was also kind,” Therin continued. “And loyal to a fault, and passionate, and honourable. Everything he did, he did for others. Your father was not a perfect man, not by a distance. He was flawed, and he made mistakes – many of them – but he was the best man I ever knew, and I see him in you every day. Please, forgive him for the things he never said. All he ever wanted was to keep you, your brother, and your sister safe. He and your mother would have given everything for that.”

“If we’d known…”

“Nothing would have changed. Be wary of that path, Calen. The past is set in stone. It is immutable. Look forwards.”

Another knock sounded at the door, and the wood creaked as Elia Havel pushed her way inside once more, handing both Calen and Therin mugs of piping hot Arlen Root tea.

Before Calen could open his mouth, Elia raised one finger in the air. “Ah.” She nodded towards the mug in Calen’s hand. “Drink.”

Elia’s expression softened, and she gently pinched Calen’s cheek before making her way from the room.

Both Therin and Calen sat in silence for a while before Therin let out a short laugh. “This tea always reminds me of your mother. I don’t think there was ever a time I saw her and she wasn’t brewing a new batch.”

Calen pulled a long breath through his nostrils, the deep, loamy smell of the tea filling him. He lifted the mug and took a sip, trying his best not to grimace. “At least she didn’t force it down your throat.”

“There is that.” Therin lifted the mug, staring into the depths of the dark liquid. “I’m going to have to drink it now, aren’t I?”

Calen nodded, giving Therin an expectant smile.

The elf sniffed, recoiling and puffing out his cheeks. “Are you sure we can’t honour your mother a different way?”

“Drink,” Calen said, mimicking Elia.

To the elf’s credit, he took a deep draught of the tea, then produced a gurgling sound as he choked it down. “Gods.”

“Even they can’t save you from the tea.” Calen took another sip, enjoying the contortions of Therin’s face as the elf experienced the tea’s aftertaste. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“For talking. There’s so much I don’t know about him…”

“Sometimes you can know a person without knowing their past, Calen. Your father wasn’t a Draleid. He wasn’t a mage or a king or a lord. But he was someone who always tried to do what he knew to be right. He cared deeply about the ones he loved, and he fought fiercely to protect them. In all honesty, after everything I’d seen, he showed me there was still good left in the world.” Therin shook his head, brushing the back of his hand against his eye and sitting up. “Despite all the death I’ve seen, I still can’t believe he’s truly gone. There are some people, Calen, who just leave an indelible mark on the lives they touch. In that, you are most definitely your father’s son.”

A third knock rapped on the door.

“Elia, please.” Calen twisted in his seat. “We don’t… Haem.”

Calen’s brother stood in the open doorway, steam wafting from a mug in his hand. He held himself like a man who hadn’t slept in days, shoulders drooped, eyes sunken. “Little brother.”

Haem nodded at Therin, moving across the room and squeezing Calen’s shoulder. He leaned over and scratched the top of Faenir’s head, the wolfpine nuzzling into Haem’s palm.

Haem pulled himself back to his full height, letting out a soft sigh as he looked down at Ella, who lay still in the bed. “How is she?”

Chapter 16

The Old Wars

6thDay of the Blood Moon

Níthianelle – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

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