Dreamcastor | The Girl Without Words

Chapter 1: Once a Father, Once a Son

Chapter 1

“If this is a joke, it’s a very poor one,” warned the young man, his pale face ghost-like in the candlelight. Only his eyes betrayed the internal turmoil within him. His mouth twisted to the side in a forced smile. "Nonetheless, it is a joke."

His hands fiddled with the stoneless ring on his ring finger, the only piece of jewelry he wore. His slim but lean frame was dwarfed by the king, but there was something that kept the bigger man at bay. 

Something that seemed dangerous, despite the disparity in their physical sizes. 

King Aryic of Eyverlin chose not to answer right away, but instead studied Rowan of Wicker carefully. He was a good-looking lad, but the glint of curiosity and intelligence in his eyes was what drew people to him. Had drawn Aryic to him.

Rowan paced up and down the length of the oval room. After a moment, he stopped, faced his king and ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes wary. He counted several seconds before allowing himself to speak without anger. “Why so quiet, Your Majesty?” he demanded, still ashen.

When the king still did not say anything, his control on his emotions loosened. He fought his rage and waited for a response.

When the king finally spoke, it was with all his regality and calmness he was well-known and liked for.But there was something wrong about it. It was the voice the king reserved for royalty and diplomats.

The voice of half-truths.

“You have not seen what I have seen. What I have faced." The king spoke in earnest, or that's what it would have seemed to one with less perception than Rowan. "We cannot allow such dangerous powers within the borders of our lands. Of my lands.” He turned away and faced the window.

For the king, looking at Rowan was like looking at himself. As a young man he had been full of ideals and hopes. Over the years, after he had faced the harsh world, those ideals had vanished. Now, all he knew of was keeping his kingdom safe. When he had first taken Rowan in, he'd wanted him to do all that he, as king, couldn't do.

Once a fool, always a fool.

As much as it pained him, he couldn't consider Rowan as a son any longer.  

Now, he was an enemy.

Aryic cast his personal feelings aside, instead speaking to Rowan as if he were a prisoner of war. A true enemy of Eyverlin. "For years I have known that dreammaking is dangerous. That something that beguiles the mind and bewitches the senses can be just as deadly as it is wondrous. I couldn't even begin imagine the bloodshed it could cause."

The young man knew this to be true, and didn't know how to refute it. But what the king advocated for made no sense. How could he justify the slaughter of hundreds of Dreammakers on the basis of what they might do?

Rowan had always considered Aryic to be a level-headed man, able to diffuse tense situations with a single word. There was something different about this man who stood before him. 

A long stretch of silence passed between them again. Neither Rowan nor Aryic seemed inclined to speak. 

“So what does this mean for me?” he asked at last. “I am a Dreammaker, too. You took me in as a boy and I vowed to serve you for the rest of my days. I have never turned against you even once. Now, will you strike me down, too, my king?" Though he tried to keep his voice steady, there was no doubt fear in his voice. “You're like—“ His voice broke and he tried again. “Like a father to me. ”

The pregnant silence that followed unnerved him. He hated to say it, but the situation didn't seem friendly. The king seemed to mean him genuine harm. Rowan, broken by the king's silence, fell onto the ground and began to plead. As humiliating as it was, he couldn't bear to lose the one person who had given him a second chance. Had given him a new life.