Boxes wrapped in pink, yellow, blue, and purple paper rose on the greenwood stage of the Assembly Hall. A dozen square tables stood in rows on the floor, daffodils and tulips strewn over the tops. Massive jugs of flowers decorated the platforms of the periphery. Afternoon sunlight brightened the room through open windows. A hum of voices rang in the air, voices that sounded less excited than Emick felt.
Emick's father, Damyx kel Ramsey, clasped hands with his son. "Splendid!" he said. "Glad to see your mother is not here." He wore his burgundy kel's vest with the mahogany trim and embroidery, nice rather than flashy, and smooth black trousers. A linen shirt rather than silk covered his arms. His hair was short, an uncommon style for kels, who typically declared their status with elaborate braided rows. However, Damyx was a professor, not a royal, despite his kel heritage.
Emick slid his hand over his own dark brown braids and shuddered, grimacing. "She was not invited. And anyway, I doubt she would have attended, what with the death of her Minara."
Damyx grabbed his head with both hands and sat down at a long table. "What? Minara is dead now?"
"Yes, thank Moor." Emick sat next to him, his fingers restless on the lace tablecloth. "The blasted war, all the chaos, heartache. All Minara's doing. I say! I almost pity Mother."
"What, why?" said Damyx.
"Well, while she is a pathetic debauchee, she must have been one of Minara's minions as well. She thought Minara loved her, as though such a thing were possible, and now she is gone, and with it, all Mother's power and cunning. When Mother left Gallel, I thought of a walrus shrinking away with her tail between her legs."
"Don't you mean dog?" said Damyx, a knowing smile touching his lips.
"This is mother."
"Yes," Damyx whispered. He leaned back in his chair. "I met your mother through Minara."
"What!" said Emick. "She was her minion back then? How old is the witch?"
Damyx shrugged. "Older than she looks. Your mother wasn't quite as fat then. She made herself charming. For a night." Damyx sighed. "Well, I'm glad you're here, son. But I hope I never have to see your mother again."
"Smite me, Father, I hate her more than you can know."
Looking carefully from over his fingertips, Damyx said carefully, "How... did Minara die?"
"Well, I wasn't there, but my friends claim to have taken her wari. She was attempting some ceremony to free a demon from the Void, and to give him my son's body."
"Is that so? How did she fail?"
Emick straightened his back and beamed. "Chadwick fought him off! Imagine that, a little womb dweller fought off a powerful demon. And then, after my friends took Chadwick out, they sucked her wari right out of her. Dead. Gone."
Damyx nodded, then locked his ginger eyes onto his son's. "Beware, Emick. I have known Minara for decades. I have fought to break her spell from my heart. Such a mage as she is will not stay dead if she was killed as you described by your friends."
Emick's blood froze as his mouth opened. "That is what Skel feared as well." When his father looked a question at him, he said. "A time mage friend who was also captured with my friend."
Damyx grasped Emick's arm. His eyes softened lovingly. "You must continue to block your heart from her and give your soul to your Lianna. I believe you will face Minara again, and she will be even more powerful."
"But. She's dead. My friends saw her broken body. They caused her death. They left her burned corpse alone in a dark cavern with no food or exit. Whatever you or that mage say, how could she live again?"
"Just beware, son. She is not done with you. Though she is likely done with your mother."
"Lucky her."
"And the demon?" said Damyx.
Emick shrugged. "I saw him up in Minara's tower, so she must have been successful in removing him from the Void, but he was merely ethereal. Couldn't even pick up a piece of paper."
"But I'd bet he had a hold on your emotions, which gives him frightening power. Difficult times are ahead." And Emick realized, Damyx must know infinitely more. Emick hardly knew the man who could not raise him, because Damyx had refused to marry Mother. Something for which Emick could not blame him. They shared many good months together when Emick had gone to the Moore's Head University. Months until Minara took hold of him.
As guests entered the Hall, Emick tried to smile at members of Tutang's former council. Some glared at Emick and muttered usurper.
"Father," whispered Emick. "Would you be on my council?"
"I'd be honored, son, though I wouldn't do it for anyone else. Another Turbian for your Galians to hate."
"I want them to love us. I believe I am meant to be here, like I have a purpose in Gallel. Important things are coming, Father, and we will be part of them."
"So her beloved Tavaris is no longer in the Void?" Damyx sat back with his palm on his forehead.
"No. That's important, I take it?"
Damyx laughed. "She didn't tell you about him, then?"
Emick's face heated. "We usually just talked about me. If we talked at all."
"I'm surprised she never mentioned him to you. Her Tavaris, the savior of human thought. Their goal is perfect peace..."
"Wait, what?" said Emick. "If she wants peace, why start wars?"
"According to her," Damyx rubbed his forhead, "humans are too stupid to realize the value of submission to Tavaris and so must be forced into compliance for the benefit of all. Besides, anyone foolish enough to not worship Tavaris deserves pain and hardship. We choose opposition in all things, we choose war. According to her."
"And she expects people will just be peaceful?"
"She is a compelling evangelist." Damyx folded his arms. "Tavaris has ten sanctuaries in Moore's Head alone."
"Really? What are the disciples like?"
"Ordinary people. They must not know they worship a demon. Many lost much in the war. You have never been to battle, son. It is ugly. After war, peace at any price sounds splendid."
"And how does she hope to enforce this peace?"
"That is the trick," said Damyx. "Most people try to get along most of the time. But you get many people together closely, as in a city, and then give them some kind of shortage, perfect peace is all but impossible. Unless you take away the ability to think and react. I've seen plenty of students on joyweed. They never fight..."
"Or do anything else, either," said Emick. "Other than painting or playing songs on their vice guitars. Is she going to get everyone high?"
"I don't think that's her mechanism," said Damyx. "But as a mind mage, it would be almost nothing to control minds. Not sure how she plans to pull everyone's wari."
The women and Canúden arrived with the babies, Nathan shrinking behind, eyeing Lianna. Murmurs arose all around, gasps, ahhs, and comments.
"Despicable, having a Turbian in the robes."
"And look at that ugly baby. Who ever heard of a blue Turbian?"
"Remarkable that San Lianna had a baby so quickly. He was premature? Is that why he's blue?"
"Ancestors, no! Haven't you heard how that mind mage friend of hers carried the baby for her?"
"I can't believe the young Turbian would make a baby with the San's best friend! Despicable!"
"No, it wasn't like that. The way I heard it was that he made a baby with her enemy and that mind mage girl somehow removed it from the natural mother."
"I'm not sure if I want to be amazed or disgusted. Why save a sickly blue baby at all?"
"And Lianna is going to raise him anyway, ugly, blue, and the baby of her enemy?"
"We just can't have a blue Turbian be the heir. It's all kinds of unnatural. Why can't Kel Canúden's little one be declared as heir? He was Kel Tutang's real heir."
"It's plain he is Tutang's son, look at those eyes."
"All these years, how did we never notice?"
"Son or not, he was not legitimized. Kel Canúden has no standing."
A male's voice piped in, "Kel Tutang only just learned of the relationship. He didn't have time for the ceremony."
"If he didn't have time, it's only because he killed himself before bothering to do it!"
"Kel Canúden is an adult, and can't be forced into a legitimacy ceremony. You know very well he'd refuse!"
"Why is he bothering to legitimize his daughter, then, if he doesn't want her to have a chance to rule as San?"
"Ugh, that is the ugliest baby I've ever seen. Why does he have blue skin? How could our future Kel have blue skin? He looks like he's having trouble breathing! How can our Kel not be Gungali?"
"All newborns are ugly. I'm sure he'll just appear exotic as he grows."
"There is just something not right about him."
"We just can't have him. Or his Turbian father."
Lower whispers, "How can we convince Kel Canúden to take his rightful place? He belongs in those robes!"
"Remember, Kel Tutang, Ancestors rest him, didn't begin as the Heir. Don't forget San Calithia."
"She's dead and has no standing, stupid."
Lianna sat next to Emick, scowling. "They could at least have the courtesy to gossip about our son at home, not where we can hear them! And anyway, if not for the whole stupid war, I'd be the San anyway. You would still be my husband and yuki, as Skel calls it, and Chadwick would still be my adopted son. The next Kel of Galia. Marriages between our lands have been common since Anath and Moore. Why such a fuss?"
Emick's eyes rolled and he sighed. "I fear this is only the beginning. Minara's doing, I'd wager."
Canúden and Ophia sat next to them, with Canúden holding Navieve. They wore their best clothing, something unusual for Canúden who despised royal pomposity. He even wore his purple kel's vest, and had his hair slicked back. Another one who never wore Gungali kel's braids. Ophia looked nice in a loose blue skirt and blouse, though Navieve's cream-colored blanket already had some puke on it.
"But. She's gone." Ophia clutched Navieve closer to her chest.
"Father agrees with Skel that she somehow managed to revive herself. She hasn't given up, and we need to be careful."
"I missed a lot, didn't I," said Ophia. "More than just Chadwick's healing. But she's not gone? How is that possible?"
Emick shrugged. "Apparently she was... is... a powerful mage, hundreds of years old. A little thing like being killed by having her wari removed wouldn't stop her."
"So she's a powerful mage," said Ophia weakly. "We all know that. It's not like I know what I'm doing." When I kill people was left discretely out of the sentence.
Damyx touched Emick's wrist and pointed to the great clock set on a shelf between windows to the side. Its great silver cylinder was about to turn to the sixth hour, midafternoon. Time to begin the feast. Time to stand up and take charge. Welcome everyone, even those who despised him. Like a Kel was supposed to do at these things.
Lianna felt his hesitation; she smiled and squeezed his arm. "You'll do well. Your speech doesn't have to be fancy. Everyone will love you, even if they don't realize it yet."
He breathed deep, then pushed himself from the table. His father clapped him on the back. Emick stepped to the stage just before him, climbed the stairs. The swish of his official purple and orange robes felt strange. Emick, the sixth son of a San, wearing Kel's Robes. He quickly cleared his throat and swallowed before turning around to face the audience.
"My friends!" He held up his hands, his sleeves falling embarrassingly to his elbows. Lianna smiled at him as his eyes turned to her. So did Canúden, Ophia, Harren, and his father. Half the audience scowled, the rest looked on with interest. Perhaps curious to see him fail. "Welcome to the Feast of the Two Heirs!" More people scowled. He shouldn't have reminded them that there was supposedly competition for his son's kelship. He grasped the podium and tried to keep his knuckles from turning white. "We will get to the ceremony first, so the babies are fresh and content, then will the feast be served."
"I don't think the blue one would ever be fresh!" muttered someone.
Emick's mind pinched at the comment, but he continued. "This ceremony will legitimize Chadwick kel Mangoran Alemick as Lianna's son and my rightful heir. It will also legitimize Navieve san Penander Alcanúden as Canúden kel Ubal Alharren's rightful heir."
"Well, there's half the problem," mumbled someone. "Kel Canúden refuses to use his proper name."
"Don't expect it to happen," said an elderly man in a red vest. "Canúden knows who he is, and likes himself that way. Don't impose your judgments on him."
"I hear he's planning to leave, anyway," said a woman with tight brown hair.
"Yes," said the man in the red vest. Emick thought he might be Canúden's painting master friend. He seemed to have good sense, maybe he would be a good member of Emick's Council of Six. "We will all miss him, but he has no place here now. Let it go. War is war, and Kel Emick is the Kel." He pointed sternly at the detractor's face. "A good Kel."
Yes, definitely at least ask del Allen onto the Council, even if he was a million years old or so. Emick continued over the gossipers. "A new era begins in our land. I say 'ours' because Galia is now my home, as I have made San Lianna my wife and my yuki. I will guide Galia to prosperity and peace, and I will teach my sons and daughters love. Love is the key to everything. It is the soul of true peace. Starting with Chadwick, who will grow to a great Kel.
"Now, I know his blue skin amazes you."
"That's one word for it," a beefy man said to the right.
"As it amazes me," said Emick. "Color is as deep as a flake of skin, blue, brown, or faintly pink. His soul will be one of love and strength. Now, let the participants arise!"
"Arise my arse!" The voice, which shook at first, came from somewhere in the back. The buzzing room fell silent. A young man stood, thin, a little too hollow-cheeked to be in the caste of kel or even del. A servant, then, though he didn't wear servants' black. His dress was nice, but plain. Emick thought he recognized him as working in Gallel's stables. "You damned pretenders, the lot of you! You too, you stupid ox, Canúden ain't got no claim either an' I got proof."
Lianna groaned and she looked down, covering her face. She knew this detractor and he made her terribly uncomfortable.
Hammeline, who sat with her mother at a near table, spoke. "Den Harkan! Please, this is a special day for these babies. This is neither the time nor the place for an ancient feud."
"Ancient?" Den Harkan's voice squeaked. "My grievances are legitimate and I..." A guard silenced him with the butt of his sword.
Lianna said to the guard, "Thank you, Dareth, he's clearly drunk. I will deal with him personally after the feast. Please see he has a warm cell, then return at your leisure."
"As you wish my lady," said the guard.