Ocean of Zellaphin (The Chronicles of Mistar - Short Story)

Tollin · · · 19

I missed the birth. Of course, I knew I would since I only came back home once a pute, but I heard Prett's screams ringing through my head as it was happening.

It was during a meeting. The meeting where I was becoming the king's right-hand man. Where I was becoming Pent's new general, created to lead the Pents into victory against the Castans, my own wife, during the War With No Name. The whole time, I was trying not to fall over in pain from Prett's screams.

For our son's names, truthfully, I didn't care. Whatever Prett wanted I was good with. Ryn and Ophryn are what they were, I had to remember them.

During the meeting, Prett's voice went silent. Afterward, I paced in forth in my room calling her name. It was already the next day when she answered.

Ophryn, she breathed, her voice sounding exhausted.

What? I asked, confused at was she was saying.

Ophryn, Prett repeated. His name is Ophryn.

I stopped pacing, lost in thought at what this could mean. Our son was Pent. I was hoping that he would turn out to be Castan, but no. This was what I get for wishing he wasn't Pent. I could imagine his skin like mine with his nose and eyes like his mother, a dark gray that would soon turn to a darker color such as green or blue. Then I realized they weren't my thoughts. Prett was projecting his image into my mind. It was a new part of her power that she must have just figured out.

He's beautiful, I stammered.

I know! Prett squealed. Tollin, we made him!

I know..., I repeated after her, almost speechless.

When I came back to the beach I had to swim across the bay and walk to her house since the baby couldn't cross the bay yet. A few months old, little Ophryn was sleeping Prett's arms as she sat on the small couch in the middle of the main living space. Ofra was busily cleaning dishes in the kitchen when I walked in.

"Nice to see you again," the handmaiden said as I passed through, her hair in braids with strips of gold. "They are in the living room."

Nervous, I sat next to Prett on the couch. She gave me one glance, a peck on the lips, and looked down at her son. Ophryn looked just like he did when Prett first showed me, swaddled in a brown potu cotton blanket.

"Ophryn," I whispered as he reached his hand out. I brought my own to his and the baby squeezed my finger gently as if responding to his name.

"Isn't he just precious?" Prett whispered as she nudged the baby's nose with her own.

I responded with, "Adorable."

Prett then looked back at me and asked, "Will you be staying the night?"

I nodded. "Of course. I told my king that I had urgent business back at home and he gave me a week."

Prett beamed. "Really?"

"Yup," I replied. "I get to spend a week with you and little Ophryn."

"For all Castan talk," Prett started to say, "your king isn't as bad as he sounds."

I bit my lip and looked away. I put my other hand to my neck, hiding the red cut that was given to me only yesterday by my king when I first asked if I could have a week to myself. "He's great," I lied, knowing that Prett would find the cut soon and I would have to lie about that too.

"I keep him till he's three," Prett blurted. "I... I know he's Pent, but I want to keep him for as long as I have. I want to teach him to swim. That reminds me, will he live with you or where will you put him?"

"I was thinking of telling my parents about us," I said. "I don't think they would mind and he could live with them so he could visit you whenever he wants."

Prett smiled warmly. "I think it sounds like a marvelous idea. Are you sure your parents won't mind?"

I shook my head. "Never. I'll even tell them today. They'll have to wait for three putes, but they'll be okay with it. They've waited longer."

Prett gave me another short kiss on the lips. "Okay. Good. Would you like to hold him?"

"Ophryn?" I responded. "Of course. I would love to hold my son."

"Good," Prett replied, "because I am tired. I think I'm going to take a nap. If he needs anything, Ofra will have a bottle ready and can help with any problems."

Prett settled Ophryn gently into my arms, his small, dark curly hair sticky out of the blanket. I only hummed in response, as I held him close. I barely watched Prett walk into the next room to lay on the cot where we cuddled on the first night I entered her house. I sniffed the air, wondering if I could smell the constant lingering meat and found it coming from the kitchen along with the smell of warm milk.

Looking back down at Ophryn, I saw his eyes open once. It's dark gray was turning green. I could only imagine the kind of boy he would be when he grew up.