A young man stood in front of an empty desk that was already littered with papers and tomes. With a drawn-out anxious sigh, Naerus - the young heir to the Astraine throne - placed his contribution in trembling hands on top of the pile for his professor: a Star Nein. With this final research paper completed, he was well on track to earn the same title, and after an evening of drink and celebration, he would begin to consider his field of study with that new title, a new purpose. Something more than what he was now.
A young man of twenty autumns was destined to eventually take his father’s place as heir to the throne; however, that was only if he completed his membership into the Astrologer’s Guild. The guild that held the most highly intelligent and spiritual individuals of all realms came through the Starlit University, and a small part of them yearned for the title of Star Nein - the highest title of the guild. Those who have been able to achieve such a title held powerful positions within the world of Avamore from the royal lineage that holds the throne, to astronomers who chart more than just the stars, to even the Seers of the world’s temples.
While he grew to want this title, it was not his first choice to step into the world of the Guild willingly when a mere seven autumns into the world he was left on the doorstep of the University. A letter from his father and his acceptance letter from the council was brought with him by the royal entourage that reassured his safe journey.
His day was not yet through, as a decision would have to be made by morning on his new rank. To pass the time as was customary for him these days, he would drink away the time in a local tavern outside the university grounds before he returned to the great library. Both were places of comfort for the young man that held two polar opposites, two sides of the same coin that tire him out week after week.
Hunched over at a dark wooden table stained with liqueur, vomit, and spit, his thumb traced his memoir amulet’s cold mirror surface. Every scholar had one, yet his was unique: an amulet adorned in gold gilding and ruby inlays - a mark of royal blood amongst common folk. His amulet showed memory fragments of the past with a bitter brow furrowed in thought. A boy with dirty blonde hair in a shaggy mop that covered his amber eyes shifted into a reflection of today’s self - a young man, hair lighter from the time in the sun and slicked back with eyes that shone like sickly sweet honey in the light and a patch of peach fuzz at the base of his chin.
“Master Naerus, are you alright?” A young woman’s voice broke through his jumbled thoughts and brought him back from the recesses of his mind as his senses caught the strong scent of whiskey in the air. With a low and dismissive hum, he asked her to repeat herself before the glass pint found itself on his lips and drops of the bitter nectar from within dribbled down his chin. “A letter, friend, from the King. I assume to wish you a formal congratulations on your final paper being submitted.”
“Leave it on the table, please Reina. Any word about Rhuune’s orientation by chance? Or did my father not trust me to take the Thialik with me?” His words poured out of his mouth like a venom that his tongue wished to deliver straight to the man himself. Rhuune was a large stone giant man who held the position of Naerus’ servant while he lived within the castle walls and would spend two seasons a year with him at the university every year. He promised the man of stone when he set off on his study that he would accompany him lest he be reassigned and treated poorly elsewhere.
The young woman - Reina - sat across from him careful not to land in a pile of questionable liquids and dirty her seemingly freshly pressed surcoat. She awkwardly brushed a lock of her silver hair behind her pointed ears that stuck out of the side of her head in a manner that to him had her personality written all over them. “I wish I had news of your thialik friend, Naerus, but I don’t know why the Nein’s are taking this long with a decision.” On the bridge of her nose rested a pair of large round glasses with a gold wire frame to hold the lenses in place slipped down to the tip as she leaned in to comfort the young man. “Naerus, we’ve known each other many a winter now; let me help you. I did not complete my studies of Master Starweaver for nothing. The bitterness within your soul will shroud your judgment and possibly keep you from your end goal.”
“Reina, I know we’ve known one another for practically my entire stay at the university.” He cleared his throat from the burn of his drink. “When are you going to trust me when I tell you I’m fine?” His question was met with silence as she smoothed her surcoat with uneasy hands.
“Never.”
He shook his head, his gesture looser than anticipated. Of course, you know me.
They both chuckled softly as he shifted in his seat. His pint clinked against the table as his gaze lingered on her droopy ears that bounced with her laugh before she rose from the table. Her hand hovered on his shoulder as she rounded the corner and her lips grazed the light point to his ear and whispered an affectionate prayer of safety. She pressed her lips firmly against his temple before she vanished through the ever-growing crowd of the tavern.
He knew Reina cared for him in a way he wanted to return, but knew it would end in heartbreak, whether from a failed voyage or his bloodbound duty to take the throne. Years ago he comforted himself with reassurance that his feelings were best kept to himself to save her the hurt of false security within the university walls. As open and inclusive the university, and in turn, the guild and council were, the people would revolt if the next heir of the throne were to wed a creature of dream; for Reina was what they call themselves a peau’blan - a dream walker.
Dream walkers came from the realm of thought, and their pheromones were best used to lull others into blissful sleep so they could feed off their happy dreams. While it has been known they are no harm to humans, elves, and the like there were still plenty of commoners who felt differently on the matter. The stories of old during the Age of Dark where peaceful and loving dreams were scarce, and what few remained the dream walkers sapped and caused nightmares, insomnia, and ultimately madness in their victims. Naerus was sure to read every literary paper on the subject early in his studies, which is when he met Reina first and quickly bonded over the use of old rumours to fuel hate. They found it ridiculous that in 7:32 Gold those long-ago excuses still held merit, and their friendship was cultivated off the principle to better those that came after them.
Naerus nursed his pint of whiskey with both hands, however, his eyes never left the neatly enveloped letter that lay delicately at his side. On the flap was the royal wax seal - his father’s seal - that only seemed to anger him further. Can’t even be bothered to make an appearance yourself. He scoffed at the thought that even his own father was too good for him despite sending him to the best university in the realm.
His head swam with a warm numbness that made it difficult to keep his movement still. “Maybe I had one too many after all.” He mumbled under his breath, words slurring together to his ears. Only way to read his words. Before he could stop himself, his hand dragged the letter closer and into his fingers at a pace that seemed to take hours until his finger slipped under the flap. Out slid a several-page letter, handwritten by what he’d come to know as his father, or he could only hope. His father had only visited the university a handful of times early on in his studies, assumed to make sure he was there and didn’t run off. Once Naerus made it through his thirteenth autumn was the last time his father visited, and instead opted to send letters.
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An uneasy breath staggered into his lungs while his vision danced in pairs in an attempt to sober just enough to read the script that flowed on the page.
“My dearest Naerus,
It’s come to my attention you’ll be submitting your final research paper this coming fortnight, and I could not be more proud of you. I understand if you view me as harsh and uncaring, but it was for your own good, believe that if you cannot trust anything else from me.
I know I should have visited more, however, the needs of the people are neverending. It’s been increasingly difficult these past years as I have made the decision against my advisor’s wishes and you should know it now as you begin your final ascent into the ranks of the Astrologer’s Guild and pledge yourself into the Council’s charge. I have ended my long-lasting life aid as I now give you one final time constraint as my eldest. You will take my seat at the throne once you return, however, when you do I will be here no longer. Bear no ill will for the decision came with great hesitation. I pass the torch to you, my son.
His hand gripped the letter tighter as his eyes reread the last few sentences as the words sunk in. His chest was tight and heavy, the air stuck in his lungs frozen in the moment. He was unsure whether to continue, breathe, scream, cry - or drink. The glass pint won when it found its way to his lips again for a large gulp that stung all the way down before he was able to continue the rest of his father’s words.
Within this sealed envelope you’ll have this letter and along with it the royal signet ring. Have great care my incredible Naerus, for it will be yours to pass down one day as well.
My final farewell to you that should be arriving the day of your departure should be your servant, that boy Rhuune. I was able to pull some strings and get him approved for his apprenticeship under you personally. Do not disappoint the Solar Mystic and train him well.
Your father and King”
The final touches on the note were a punch to the gut. A final farewell. His jaw clenched with a faint squeak of teeth grinding against one another echoed in his head, all previous thoughts snuffed out like a candle. “How dare he.” He spat quiet enough that even he could barely hear himself utter a word over the tavern’s commotion. A tear swelled in his eye, yet refused to fall, “if he cared he could have told me this in person.” His hands gripped the letter tight enough to send crinkles across the page from the tautness. “Or at least scryed.”
Just then his gaze flickered back towards the opened envelope, where his signet ring sat within creating a small bulge at the bottom of the paper parcel. He overturned the envelope and shook the ring until it landed neatly in his hand with a soft thud. It was a bulky ring, a thick golden band that was polished to a shine that seemed too large to fit on any finger, and a square-cut ruby that glistened in the candlelight overhead. This was the ring that would set him on the throne when the time was right - a royal receipt of red that flowed through his veins, and now it was finally in his hands.
What should have been a joyous and proud moment in his life was met with silence. No yearning, no jitters one gets before a big event; nothing. His head lulled around on his shoulders in an attempt to focus the ring in his vision. No, it’s not time yet. I’m not finished. His fist wrapped around the ring in a tight moment’s attempt to not throw it across the room, but to place it in his inner pocket, a place for later.
Naerus reached into the breast pocket of his silk vest to pull out a small timepiece - a silver orb that dangled from an equally as silver chain attached to his shirt. Within the orb was an intricate series of bands that clicked away in different intervals each movement of the gears at its core. Each band is a realm and its time, a useful piece of equipment for the Guild but rarely permitted to those under the head title without special exemption. The time was late enough that he should show himself back to the library for one final bit of reading before his life was deemed to change one way or another tomorrow morning.
The night air bit with cold fangs as he pushed open the front door and was greeted with pleasant dim lighting coming from the lanterns of elven fire that danced in the air. Throughout the last thirteen years within the university district, Naerus was unsure of what the rest of the city of Oracanth looked like. While he was permitted to venture out on their holidays he spent most of his time within his safe haven of the library, a decision that brought him a heavy heart knowing he would be leaving within a fortnight.
Even in the dead of night, the stone-paved streets bustled with spirits, humans, elves, and other rare species; most of which Naerus could identify at a glance. Large buildings with spires and stone statues of goblins, banshees, and more sit on top with watchful eyes; each that seemed to hold their gaze on him with every step he took towards the center - to the university. Past Evora’s Tomes, down Karma Ave, and through the gate. He reminded himself - this was home, he knew it by heart at this point but the repetition had become a habit. Naerus knew the way to the university changed to keep its safety, but always remained the same for him. An omen of good faith, Reina would always mention with confidence.
Past Evora’s Tomes, down Karma Ave, and through the gate.
His boots echoed louder than usual, the drink getting to him perhaps. The stones underfoot seemed damp, though it hadn’t rained in a few days. A blink, two blinks. Evora’s Tomes sat behind him, then again, and again for a third time. That wasn’t right, he knew he drank a little too much but not to get confused about a straight path. He turned on the heel of his boot to view the shop, no, it was gone and then it was ahead of him. A chill climbed his spine as he reiterated the path like a prayer.
Past Evora’s Tomes, down Fatum Road, and through the gate.
His brow furrowed and a look of uncertainty crossed his mind, Fatum wasn’t right it was a different road, he was sure of it. No, it was always Fatum that’s the road he always took he was sure of it, his feet wouldn’t budge in that direction however - frozen at the crossroads of Fatum and Karma. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nae. You’re not that drunk.” A small pep talk to himself that ultimately failed as he pushed through and down Fatum Road.
The road seemed to stretch and pull further the more he ventured down, not dramatically at first, but he knew something shifted. Each step grew heavier, his boots dragging as though pulled through sugar tar. A need to lean against the bare stone wall to gasp for breath. His legs felt twice as heavy as they should. The previous sounds of the city died out and left him with a deafening silence as his own ragged breath was the only thing audible. This couldn’t be what happened when the path rearranged, it’s too dangerous, he panicked with his hands against the wall to guide him to safety.
The stone statues that sat on top of homes and places of business stretched and curved unnaturally in the moonlight, and the feeling in his back knew something watched from the shadows in the distance. A pinprick sent shivers down his spine, something was here and it wanted him to know. “Well then? Where are you?” He called out into the nothing, even his voice, which normally echoed and bounced off walls, seemed to seep into the very stone itself; like the world was only half-formed. A hiss tickled his ear, and hot breath blanketed his neck, its confirmation that it was indeed watching him.
Naerus’ head whipped around to catch whatever followed him off guard, the drink made his head swim with the movement, and black crept in around the edges of his vision. Without warning he saw a blackened alleyway and then the sky with a dense thud. The sky pulsed - off somehow. The stars shimmered and twinkled as normal, but the constellations were wrong, Eurani had moved; tilted, it laid in reverse. Then with a flicker of his eyelids, his body went limp and his breath steadied in a peaceful rhythm.
