Heirs of Eternity (Euphoria Duology Book 1)

by Franc Ingram

  “Tycho we have no time for…”

  “Nadir has been so busy tending to certain matters of the realm,” he broke in. “He won't be available until later. I insist you come home with me. Relax for a moment, and refresh yourselves,” he encouraged them. “You always reminded me to have balance, now I’m returning the favor.

  “What is it you’re not…”

  “Please,” Tycho said. He begged with his wide-eyed stare for her to drop it. “Just come with me, and we can discuss the rest later.”

  Oleana didn’t want to push her friend, and she really was tired. Trying to get in to see Nadir without Tycho’s help would have been impossible, and another headache was something she’d rather avoid. “Okay,” she sighed giving in, “lead the way, old friend.”

  “Don’t call me that. It’s not polite.” He winked, then turned to Leith and Lorn. “Can you believe I used to be the young buck of our group? Now she comes back, half my age, looking all spry and youthful, calling me old.” He shook his fist in good-natured teasing. “I won't stand for it.” When neither one of them answered, Tycho shrugged. “All right, fine. I’m old. And you,” he looked at Oleana, “don’t think I forgot about those fifty coins. When you see what Kaithlen has brewed up at my house, I’m sure you’ll call us even.”

  “We’ll see,” Oleana replied, even though she was only half listening. She wanted to know what was so wrong with Nadir that Tycho didn’t want her to see him. Did he harbor some resentment toward her for leaving? Or was it Lilian? Did she fear that Oleana’s return would disrupt her family? The questions would drive Oleana crazy until she got her answers.

  Tycho’s house was less of a house, and more a fortress with a nice yard. It felt rather fitting for the leader of a security force. The place was a huge stone structure, big enough to fit the five-room farmhouse Oleana and Lorn left, twice. The walk up to the door was lined with tiny forest green shrubs, some of them already showing purple buds along the path.

  The porch was supported by four, red-brick columns. It was wide enough to comfortably fit four chairs around a rectangular, glass and metal table. A mat at the front door read, “Welcome” in golden thread. The mixture of sturdy construction, and simple luxury, was unique to Central City.

  Inside opened up to a bright room painted in a lovely sea-foam green, with white wood trim. Two-person-wide steps with an ornate railing, similar to the one back at the library, sat in the middle, dividing the two halves into a sitting room and a dining area.

  Tycho lead them around the stairs into an eat-in kitchen fit to hold fifteen people comfortably. The smell of roasting vegetables and fresh-baked sourdough bread filled the air, making Oleana’s mouth water.

  Kait was at the stone-topped island chopping up carrots and dumping them into a black kettle rattling over the fire. A younger woman, looking very much like Kait, and clearly pregnant, sat nearby with her feet propped up, munching on carrots she snatched from the cutting board.

  Tycho cleared his throat. Kait looked up.

  “Ah Ty, wasn’t expecting you home. And you brought guests.” Kait recovered quickly. Putting down the knife and wiping her hands on her light blue apron, she smiled, her whole facing lighting with the gesture. “Welcome,” she greeted them warmly.

  “Wow Kait, still more beautiful than me,” Oleana said, admiring her hostess. A chill spread through her cheeks seeing her old friend, someone who was always ready for battle, as tough as the bedrock of the city she called home.

  “And a better shot,” Kait returned automatically, finishing the customary teasing they used to give each other. “Mira, it can’t be.” The older woman rushed to Oleana’s side, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes. “I feared I wouldn’t live long enough to see you return. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Glad someone is,” Oleana said, still bothered by Tycho’s standoffish behavior.

  Kait exchanged a knowing look with her husband. Apparently, everyone knew the secret, but wasn’t up to sharing it. “Ignore my husband, he’s a big buffoon.”

  “You’re the one who married him. Why would you go and do a thing like that?”

  Kait ushered Oleana to the nearest chair. “I believe your last words to me, before riding off to be the hero, were to marry that fool before he forgets he’s not worthy of you.”

  “Well your first mistake was listening to me,” Oleana said. She couldn’t stop smiling. Her cheeks stretched to the limit, and her face and chest felt warm.

  Lorn studied his mother carefully as interacted with Kait. Here was another who knew a previous version of Oleana. Back in Solon, with Daycia, his mother, in some ways, reverted to the young apprentice, Alwen. While Lorn knew her as a self-assured person, in Solon she kept seeking the advice of her mentor.

  In Central City, he was encountering yet another change. His mother was friendly and happy in a way he rarely saw from her. Ever since they started the search, Oleana had shut that part of her off, but Mira had friends here. She was reuniting with family and a life surround by people she loved. It was nice to see that part of her shine through. Lorn feared it would disappear all to quickly if he mentioned it.

  “What’s with all the food,” Lorn cut in, looking at the buffet spread before him. “Seems a lot for just you two ladies to have for lunch.”

  “We usually have the whole extended family over for dinner at the beginning of every month. A tradition you are more than welcome to join us in young...” her voice trailed off, waiting to be introduced.

  “I’m forgetting my manners again,” Oleana said apologetically. “This is Lorn and Leith.”

  “Masters of Skies and Animals,” Tycho added.

  The younger girl swallowed hard. “They’re real,” she marveled, her eyes jutting back and forth between her parents, and Leith and Lorn. She brushed herself off and swallowed down whatever food scraps she was eating. She started to stand, but Lorn was quick to stop her.

  “There’s no need for that,” he said.

  “It's such an honor to meet you all,” she insisted. “I don’t believe this is really happening,” she gaped. “The stories are true! I’ve heard many tales about the men who would be Kings of Euphoria. The ones forged by the Twelve to save humanity, but part of me thought the legend must have been exaggerated, but here you are, in our house.” Her wide eyes cut to her father. “Pop, I swear the way you and mom talked, and Lady Lillian, like it was all a big fairytale. Lysander. By the Twelve, Lysander is going to lose his mind when he finds out they’re real.”

  “This is our oldest, Miriam,” Kait explained.

  “Miriam, really,” Oleana said turning to Tycho, honored to have his daughter named after her former incarnation.

  “Don’t get a big head about it,” Tycho replied, shrugging but with a wink in her direction.

  “Two of the kings already,” Kaithlen stared at her husband. “You have been busy. Does that mean you’re here for the third?”

  “The Twelve pointed me in this general direction.”

  “Was Nadir wrong?” Kait said. She was looking through Oleana, worry crinkling her once smooth forehead.

  “I don’t know. It's too soon to jump to that conclusion,” Tycho answered. He avoided Oleana’s eyes.

  “Wrong about what?” Oleana asked. “Why do I suddenly feel like the omen of death?”

  “Are you sure the third is here?” Tycho asked.

  “Well before we got into town I figured he could be in Central City, or any of the surrounding towns, but now that we’re here I can tell he’s close. Must be in town. The others are feeling him too.”

  “Who says?” Leith asked.

  “You’re scratching at your arm again,” Oleana said, pointing at his offending limb.

  Leith looked down to find his sleeve rumpled, where he’d been fidgeting with his mark. Lorn was steadily rubbing his against the rough material of his pants.

  “You both need to recognize what it feels like to be close to one another. It might save your life one o
f these days. That tingling feeling at the back of your neck, that’s your brother. If I wasn’t here, the two of you would be able to track him together. Always remember, you are stronger together.”

  “Nadir’s not going to be happy about this,” Tycho said to himself.

  “I don’t know what it is about Nadir you don’t want to share, but you need to take me to him right now,” Oleana ordered.

  “I’ll send a messenger to his residence, let him know you’re here, and we can make arrangements to have a sit-down.”

  “Tycho,” Oleana and Kait said exasperated, and in unison.

  Tycho recoiled. His caramel-brown cheeks picked up a hint of red. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “I’ll take you to Nadir.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE RESIDENCE

  The Residence was a castle in everything but name. After the long walk into town, the detour to Tycho’s house, then the walk to the enormous edifice, Oleana hated every inch of the ten-minute walk from the front gate to the front door. Like Tycho’s house, it sacrificed some of the finer details for more functionality. It was the work of a people whose pride was linked to the security of their borders.

  Tycho left Oleana and the others in the foyer as he went to track down Nadir. Oleana was surprised at how much had changed, yet so much stayed the same. The first time she entered, she was a scared fourteen-year-old who was summoned by Saddiq Starson, leader of Caledon. Now she was back to demand of his son the answers she needed, and request asylum for the ones she loved.

  She fussed with her dreadlocks, making sure they were pulled back into a neat ponytail. She didn’t have fancy clothes or the makeup women of the court wore but at least she could make sure her hair looked nice. She glanced at her reflection in a polished metal vase. Her skin was puffy under her eyes. Her face was thinner than she remembered and stress was etched into every premature crease around her eyes, but the purple and yellow threads woven into her hair made her nut-brown eyes sparkle.

  Nadir walked in looking much like his father the last time Oleana had seen him. Dark brown hair the color of chocolate. Brown skin, sharp gray eyes, full lips always pressed into a tight line holding back his barely veiled irritation with the rest of the world. The years had turned the optimistic Nadir into a hard old man. Oleana wanted to cry for her lost friend, but there was no time for her grief.

  “You look good,” Oleana stammered, at a loss for anything else.

  “Tycho says you believe the third is here in the city. He seems to believe I can help you find him. I believe him to be mistaken,” Nadir said, not really looking at Oleana. His gaze skirted over Lorn and Leith in turn, but he refused to look at Oleana. She didn’t know whether to be hurt, or furious. She could handle rejection from just about anyone else, but not him. “He’s insistent, and it is my responsibility to be sure one way or the other, so I’ll indulge him.”

  Already tired of fighting the tension between them, Oleana nodded. “How do we do that exactly?”

  “You three will follow me into the library, and we’ll wait.” Nadir turned and started walking before Oleana could respond.

  She turned to Lorn, then Leith, but neither one of them seemed to have any more insight than she did. Oleana took a deep breath to keep from screaming. She let out a long sigh. “Follow him,” she said, not knowing what else to do.

  Down the main hallway, on the opposite side of the kitchen and living room combination, directly across from Saddiq’s turned Nadir’s office, lay the library. It was a good-sized room, thirty by thirty, with ten-foot-high ceilings, yet it felt smaller to Oleana than she remembered. Built-in bookshelves lined three of the four walls, with a large painting of a map of Caledon taking up the fourth.

  At the opposite ends of the room sat two light wood desks, both flanked by two floor lamps that cast a warm light yellow into the room. The desks were clear, except for a neat stack of stationery, and three ornate pens each. Both had high-backed leather chairs pushed up to them.

  On the floor was a navy-blue rug with a crescent moon, and a ghost image of Euphoria’s rings cast in jewel toned purples and greens. Scattered around were comfortable looking leather arm chairs that gave the place a very laid back, cozy feel.

  Nadir opened a side panel in one of the desks and slid out a large drawer. On it sat three bottles holding various liquids. He pulled another drawer, in which were glasses.

  “Drink?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Oleana said, feeling rather desperate for anything to take the edge off.

  “Yes,” Leith said before taking a seat in one of the arm chairs.

  Lorn looked as if he wanted to say something, but Oleana’s icy gaze made him back down.

  “If you tap the corner of that desk the same way I did, you will find another compartment with some candies,” Nadir said looking at Lorn.

  “Thanks,” the boy said, doing as he was told.

  Drink in hand, Oleana walked along the bookshelves. Many of the books were on strategy and planning. Some were biographies from legendary military leaders, and past rulers of Caledon.

  Oleana paused when she saw a book that read, Life and Times of Saddiq Starson. She pulled the hard-cover book from its shelf, shaking dust loose into the air. The rendering of Nadir’s father on the cover had the man smiling. The smile had been a rare thing for the former ruler of Caledon, but once used it was a beautiful thing to see, lighting up his whole face, making his gray eyes sparkle like little slices of the moon.

  Oleana turned to look at Nadir who was perched on the corner of the desk. “I’m sorry to hear of your father’s …,” Oleana started when her arm started to burn.

  “Goodness, again?” Lorn asked in surprise.

  “Recognized it this time,” Leith said rolling up his sleeve and showing off the glow at the middle of his arm.

  Nadir shut his eyes and gripped his glass so tight Oleana feared he might break it. Oleana looked toward the door. Two people came into view. The woman Oleana knew. The longer hair and the wrinkles around the eyes did nothing to hide the natural beauty of Lillian Bloodgood.

  The young man at her side was less familiar, but Oleana recognized the eyes. The gray orbs that looked like captured moonlight. Saddiq's eyes. Nadir’s eyes. He was Lysander Starson, last of the Heirs of Eternity.

  100101

  Light filled the room as if a thousand lightning bugs took flight, filling the room with tiny pin pricks of sun. Warmth flooded Oleana’s body. Her heart thudded against her chest erratically, as if trying to capture some alien rhythm.

  Magnetized to Lysander by some invisible force, Oleana moved closer to him, as did the others, until the four of them were standing in a circle, arms laid on top of each other. For a moment Oleana didn’t feel like herself anymore. She felt like a part of some larger machine.

  Her heart found a new rhythm, and she knew it wasn’t hers, it was theirs. Her strength wasn’t hers, but theirs. Her knowledge, her drive, all theirs, and what they had was hers.

  Then the moment faded and Oleana felt like she was stuffed back into her body. Like she was cloaked in darkness, and she longed to be back in the light. There was a thread at the back of her mind that connected her to the others. Its presence brought her a comfort beyond words. Never again would she be alone, she had the others. She was complete.

  “No, not him!” someone pleaded.

  Oleana was yanked back to herself, facing the terror-filled eyes of Lillian, and all she could say was, “I’m so sorry.” Oleana knew what it was to go to bed every night praying that her son would choose a different path than the one she’d trained him for. Oleana hated to be the one to have to do that to someone else.

  Lysander stepped back, pulling his sword from the sheath at his back. He looked frantically around, as if he’d just woken up to find himself surrounded by the enemy. “What was that,” he demanded, looking around at everyone in the room.” His tone was sharp, but there was no fear there, just the desire for answers.

  “What was that? What just happened?�
�� he repeated, turning in circles not sure where the answer would come from.

  “That was amazing!” Lorn said, his eyes growing as big as his face would allow. “It was just… goodness. I can’t believe that just happened! Goodness…” he trailed off in wonder.

  “You said there’d be more. That felt great,” Leith chimed in.

  “What was it, and who are you?” Lysander questioned. He looked toward his mother, but she just shook her head. Nadir still had his eyes shut tight.

  Oleana downed the last of her drink, snatched Nadir’s abandoned drink, and gulped it down before she found the courage to speak. She cleared her throat, and spoke gently, but firmly. “My name is Oleana, also known as the Guardian. That’s Leith, Master of Animals, and Lorn, Master of Skies.” Oleana smiled, charged up by the addition of Master of Earth. “You my friend, are Lysander the Master of Earth, making us the four Heirs of Eternity. That little display was your confirmation, or activation. The Twelve have called it both. I’ve never experienced it before, but I have to say it was invigorating.” Oleana shook herself. Her body felt tingly all over.

  “What does that mean? Father?” He looked at Nadir with confusion written all over his face. “Why do they talk of those stories as if they’re true?”

  Oleana stared angrily between Lillian and Nadir, “You mean you didn’t even explain….,” Lillian silenced her with a look.

  Lillian found her voice, and it sounded like the song bird Oleana remembered. “Those stories were very much real, but your father assured me hundreds of potentials are born every generation with the mark, but only four are chosen to be the Heirs. Others in his family line had borne one and not been chosen. Yours looked incomplete, so Nadir was convinced, and convinced me that we had nothing to worry about. In the back of my mind though, I knew he wasn’t as sure as he sounded. So, I told you the legend of the guardian, and her three kings at bedtime, just in case this dreaded day came. I haven’t been able to sleep well since news of Solon reached us. I thought knowing for sure would ease my feelings, but knowing the path that is in front of you fills me with fear.”