by J. J. Newman
Elias stared hard at him, then let go of his coat.
“Alright. Fine,” Elias said coldly.
“Elias. Why not just talk to me for once? If you don’t want me to see Nerindar again, just tell me why.”
“No,” Elias turned to leave. He walked into an alley. Tsaeris followed him. Why was he being so difficult about this? What didn’t he want Tsaeris to know?
The it came to him in a flash of images. The boy from the dream. Nerindar calling Tsaeris a half-elf when they had first met. The man in the woods. But the detail that sealed it for Tsaeris was the way Nerindar had looked at him before attacking Elias. And he didn’t miss the way learning Elias’ name had been the trigger of the Rangers anger.
“I remember a boy. From when I was young. He fought with the men who were making me leave,” Tsaeris said. All the pieces began to fall into place. How had he not seen this before?
Elias kept walking away, slowly.
“Nerindar is my brother isn’t he?” Tsaeris asked. Elias seemed to ignore him. “You taught me to observe. To deduce. Well I have!”
“He said I was half-elf, Elias. Half,” Tsaeris yelled after him. “Elias! You were the man in the forest. It was you. Nerindar recognized you!”
Elias’ shoulders were slumped as he walked. That Elias was still ignoring him filled Tsaeris with rage.
“Don’t turn you back on me, Elias! Don’t you dare!” Tsaeris was yelling even louder now.
Tsaeris ran at Elias. Elias turned as he reached him and Tsaeris grabbed him and slammed him into the wall of the alley, as Nerindar had done earlier. Tsaeris punched Elias, splitting open his lip. Blood poured down his chin, and Tsaeris struck him again, this time in the cheek. He hit him over and over, left fist, right fist, each hit causing another welt or cut on the man’s face. Elias accepting the beating, and did not fight back or make any attempts to defend himself.
“You son of a bitch!” Tsaeris screamed. “My father!” He punched Elias again. “My father!”
Tsaeris let go of Elias, and he slumped to the ground his face bloody from the hits. As if on cue the rain began to fall and a crack of thunder echoed through the city streets.
With rain pouring down his snarling face, and blood pouring from his battered fists, Tsaeris left the alley and entered the storm.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Father
Tsaeris walked through the streets, rain soaking through his coat and the shirt beneath. His eye was filled with rage, and he didn’t even feel the wounds on his knuckles. People seemed to sense his mood, and they moved out of his path. It was clear by the way he walked that he did not intend on going around anyone.
Elias was his father. It all made so much sense. The fact that Nerindar recognized Elias means they must have met. Nerindar had fallen into rage upon seeing the two of them together. Nerindar must have thought his brother was dead. A man from The City had found Tsaeris in the forest. All the extra attention Elias gave him. Before he had been recruited Elias had even paid for his treatment. It all fit, and it had come to him so suddenly.
A lot of other strange coincidences started to seem a lot less random. Tyrier was Elias’ brother. No wonder he had become Tsaeris’ doctor when he was young. The Third Eye Initiative must have been watching him his entire life.
Yet despite this, they had dumped him at an orphanage. His father had brought him to The City and dumped him in that hell hole. He escaped and lived on the streets, waking up every day wondering if the monsters would finally catch him. His life had been a living hell, and it was all because of Elias.
He was even willing to bet that the xenophobic elves had banished him because of his half-human lineage. Every single bad thing that had ever happened to him. Every terrible day and night was on Elias’ head.
Elias should have told him when they first met. He shouldn’t have found out like this. He doubted Elias would ever have told him. The man kept Tsaeris’ very identify from him. Who was Elias to decide what Tsaeris was allowed to know of his own life?
Tsaeris barely noticed the rain as he walked towards the Tarnished Tankard. He felt so angry and betrayed. After he reached the door of the tavern he saw a familiar figure standing near the door. It was Nerindar.
“I don’t want to talk right now, Nerindar,” Tsaeris said.
“What happened, Tsaeris?” Nerindar asked with concern upon seeing the look on his face and the marks on his knuckles.
“I just got a bit more truth than I could handle today.” Tsaeris replied.
“What truth?” Nerindar asked.
“Take a guess.”
“Oh. He told you?” Nerindar wiped rain from his face with the sleeve of his coat.
“He didn’t have to. I figured it out,” Tsaeris replied.
“We should talk about this, Tsaeris,” Nerindar said softly.
“What’s there to talk about? That we’re brothers doesn’t change anything, Nerindar.”
“You’re wrong. It changes everything,” Nerindar stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve spent the last thirteen years thinking you were dead, Tsaeris.”
“Well, I’m not. Look, I don’t know what to do with this,” Tsaeris said hesitantly.
“I know. It’s a lot to take in. You don’t really need to do anything, Tsaeris. I would like to remain friends, though.”
“I have a complicated life, Nerindar. Not a lot of room for friends, and even less room for brothers.”
“I understand. I’m not in The City very often, and will be leaving for the wilderness again soon. Perhaps we can visit occasionally on my rare trips to the city.” Nerindar said,
“Maybe,” Tsaeris replied. “I do have one question.”
“Yes?”
“Is Tsaeris even my real name?” Tsaeris asked.
“Yes and no. It is a Turindiel name, but our people considered you an abomination, and you were never given a name.”
“Well, that’s always a good thing to hear. One last thing. Why do you hate Elias?”
“I don’t hate him,” Nerindar said with a sigh. “I was just upset to find that you were alive and he never sent word to our mother. And the fact that he let you grow up the way you had...”
“I get it,” Tsaeris replied. “Alright, Nerindar. I have things to do. I’ll see you around.”
“Yes, Tsaeris. I expect you will.”
Tsaeris entered the tavern, and went straight up to his room. He closed and locked his door, then lay on the bed. His rage had played itself out, and it left Tsaeris feeling very weary. He found himself drifting off to sleep.
A knock on his door awakened Tsaeris from his light sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He decided to ignore the knocking, but it came again. This time more insistent.
“Go away,” Tsaeris said.
“Open the door, Tsaeris.” The voice belonged to Tyrier. “Now.”
Tsaeris groaned and walked to the door. He opened it, and then turned around and sat on his bed. Tyrier entered the room. The tall man needed to duck to clear the door frame.
“I hear you’ve had a very informative day,” Tyrier said.
“Uh huh,” Tsaeris replied.
“How are you taking it?”
“How do you think?” Tsaeris snapped. “I find out that my mentor, a man I respect, is my father and dumped me to fend for myself in an orphanage and the streets. He abandoned me, and didn’t do a thing to help me my entire life.”
“You’re wrong, Tsaeris. He helped you more than you know,” Tyrier said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. Those purses that you cut in Darson that somehow had gold? Whose purse do you think that was?”
“What?” Tsaeris asked. “You’re telling me Elias let me cut his purse?”
“He made sure that you had money to eat. And if you didn’t piss so much of it away on booze, you could have lived at an inn. And did you think it was just luck that you survived those streets where so many other boys died?�
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“I...well. I guess not, now,” Tsaeris said.
“Elias provided for you the best way he could, given his lifestyle. He wanted better than this for you, boy. But you went and got your eye cut out, and in the end he had no choice but to take you into the Initiative,” Tyrier said.
“That’s a load, Doc. You’re a member and you still raised kids.”
“Look, people are different. Elias is not me. And I know you hate him now, but think about it this way. Do you like your life the way it is now?” Tyrier asked, and Tsaeris considered it.
“Yeah. I like being a part of things.”
“Elias gave you this life, Tsaeris. You’re here and you’re happy and it’s a life he gave you. I know you’re angry now, but you need to look at things from all angles. He knows he messed up. That’s why he’s done everything he has. To try and make things right.”
“I can’t just forgive him like that, Tyrier,” Tsaeris said quietly.
“I know. Right now it’s a fresh wound. But don’t let it fester too much, Tsaeris. There was some good that came out of this in the end anyway. And now you know that you do have family. You have a father, cousins, and uncle. You’re a Sydarin, boy.”
“I’m...a Sydarin...” Tsaeris’ eyes widened when he said it. He had a name. For the first time in his life, he had a name. For some reason, that was very important to him. “Am I really? Can I use that name?”
“It’s your name, boy. It’s yours to use as you see fit.”
“Tsaeris Sydarin,” Tsaeris tried the name out. For some reason it felt right.
“There you go. Talk to Elias, Tsaeris. And I mean talk, not punch. He may have left you, but he is your father. And he did what he could to see that you were safe.”
Tyrier left the room and Tsaeris sat on his bed. He knew Tyrier was right, in a sense. If what he was saying was the truth, then Elias had looked out for him. And he did like his life now. But he wasn’t sure he could forgive Elias just like that. The man had abandoned him.
He struggled with his feeling for what felt like hours. He liked Elias. The man was good to him, and their relationship was decent. He still felt angry and betrayed, but it’s not like Elias could turn back time and erase his mistakes. And when he really considered it, Tsaeris wasn’t sure he would change anything if he could go back himself. Well, maybe the eye thing. But other than that, he liked the way it had all turned out. His life on the street had steeled him for this job. If everything had been different, where would he be now?
He would never have met Cyra. He doubted he would ever have become a member of the Initiative. Even though they had seemed so bad at the time, he looked back on some of his days as a street kid with fondness. His life had never been boring.
As always, he felt conflicted. He wanted to be mad. He felt that he should be angry, and that to even consider forgiveness was a sign of weakness. Then again, a hostile relationship with Elias certainly wouldn’t make his life easier. Should he talk to the man now? Put it off for a few weeks? He sighed heavily.
Tsaeris steeled his shoulders. The Arms Fair was tonight, and he wanted to have at least a bit of fun. He had to deal with this. He decided that he had to talk to Elias now. Tsaeris left his room and walked down the stairs into the common room.
He saw Elias sitting alone at a table. The man’s face had a few cuts on it, but the damage hadn’t been as bad as the blood had made it seem. Tsaeris locked his eye with Elias. He turned and walked to the bar. He ordered two strong dwarven ales, and walked over to Elias. He sat opposite him at the table.
Tsaeris slid Elias the tankard, then lit two tobacco sticks. He handed one to Elias. The two men sat staring at each other in silence. Elias’ face had his usual calm expression. Tsaeris examined the man closely.
This man was his father. Tsaeris took a deep breath, attempting to absorb that fact. He had never imagined that he would ever meet his father. Yet he had spent a great deal of time with Elias. Despite the anger he had felt, he understood that Elias was still the man he liked and respected. He hoped that they could maintain the same relationship they already had. He didn’t know how to be a son, and he didn’t really want to be. But one thing he did know was that now, looking at the man, he felt that in time he could forgive Elias.
He looked for a sign in the man’s face of what he was feeling. There was nothing, just the usual calm face. It might as well have been chiseled out of stone. Tsaeris didn’t know what he expected to find, or even what he wanted to find.
He realized something suddenly. He knew Elias. Elias was telling him how he felt at that very moment. Tsaeris had attacked Elias. Yet Elias was here, and he wasn’t attacking Tsaeris or making his life miserable. Elias was feeling regret. Tsaeris found a bit of satisfaction in that. The silence lasted for a few more minutes, and then Tsaeris decided it was finally time to say something.
“I’m using the damn last name,” Tsaeris said.
Elias stared at him in silence for a moment. Then, a slow smile spread over his face.
Chapter Twenty Eight
The Dwarven Arms Fair
Tsaeris grinned and Cyra clapped and laughed as Tyrier faced off against his son, Jarod, in the wrestling pit. Both men were huge, and their muscles bulged as they struggled to push their opponent out of the round mat. Big as Jarod was, however, he was no real match for his father and after a brief yet titanic struggle Jarod fell out of the ring.
“That was insane. It was like watching two giants grapple!” Cyra exclaimed happily.
Tyrier walked over to his defeated son and helped him to his feet.
“You’re getting strong, boy. You might even beat me one day,” Tyrier said to Jarod, patting him on the shoulder affectionately.
“Don’t worry, Dad. One day you’ll be old and decrepit. Then it’s payback time,” Jarod replied, grinning.
Jarod rejoined Tsaeris, Cyra and Raina as Tyrier waited to face his next opponent. The Dwarven Arms Fair was in full swing, and the four had been there for hours. They drank lightly and played several games of chance. The crowd was huge, and there was a line up for everything, be it food, games or weapon sellers.
Occasionally a colorful explosion was burst above their heads, and the gathered crowd would laugh and clap at the display. Fireworks were a rare treat to the people of the city. Tsaeris watched Cyra smile and laugh at every new firework, as if each one was the first she had ever seen, despite the fact that they were fired off every twenty minutes or so. He smiled at her innocent delight.
Tsaeris found himself forgetting about his trouble and actually having a good time. Jarod and Raina seemed to be having fun too. Tsaeris and Jarod had spent some time at one of the many dice tables, while Raina and Cyra went off to do whatever it was girls liked to do. They hadn’t stayed too long at the table, however, as Tsaeris’ winning streak was starting to make people suspicious and angry. He decided to move on before they took too close a look at his dice.
After the four regrouped, they moved from several games of accuracy, such as knife throwing, and spent some time at one of the ale tents. Tsaeris had some coin on him, and purchased a new brace of throwing knives from one of the merchants. They were well weighted, and very sharp.
Tsaeris’ had yet to run into Elias. He wondered if he had decided to skip out on the fair this year. The two had had a long talk. Neither really knew how to act around the other now that the truth was known, so they decided that it was best to keep their relationship as it had already been. Tsaeris was thankful for that.
Several hours passed, yet the number of people only seemed to grow larger. The group had trouble navigating the crowd. When they finally decided to stop for their dinner, they had to wait in line outside a food tent to get a seat at a bench. After what seemed like forever, their turn to eat finally arrived.
Tsaeris bought all four of them their meal and a round of drinks. The meal consisted of really good oven hot bread, dripping in butter. Large portions of high quality beef and some white flavorful chees
e rounded the meal off nicely.
The fair was loud, and Tsaeris could hear music and dancing coming from different parts of the square. He found dwarven music dangerous, in that it always made him want to drink more. His spirits were high, and so were his friends.
Tsaeris’ pockets were also surprisingly deep for once. A novice of The Third Eye Initiative earned a bit of money, but not very much. Elias had given Tsaeris some gold to spend at the fair. The man had probably been feeling guilty, and Tsaeris happily accepted the offer.
“What do you guys want to do next?” Tsaeris asked, in between bites of his food.
“We should go dancing,” Cyra suggested. Raina and Jarod seemed to like the idea, but Tsaeris frowned.
“I don’t know how to dance,” Tsaeris said.
“It’s easy. Just move with the music,” Jarod offered.
“Thanks,” Tsaeris said dryly.
“Oh, come on. It will be fun,” Cyra said.
“It’s three against one, Tsaeris,” Raina noted.
“Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, it’s all your fault.”
Their meal finished, they made their way to one of the small stages. Dwarven musicians occupied the stage while people danced and sang along in the crowd. Even Tsaeris knew the words to the song they were playing.
So I drank and I sang to the old dwarven maid,
A barrel of stout was the drum that I played,
My pipe was an empty bottle of rum,
T’was the pipe of a king, and a good dwarven drum,
T’was the pipe of a king and a good dwarven drum.
Tsaeris awkwardly attempted to move his feet to the music, and Cyra laughed. Tsaeris’ face turned red. He glanced over to Jarod and Raina. They both seemed to know what they were doing. Cyra tried to guide him as he ‘danced’, but for some reason his usually nimble feet seemed clumsy and heavy. The song ended just short of him making a complete ass of himself, and he sighed with relief.
The dwarves began to play a slower more melodic song, and Cyra smiled at Tsaeris and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tsaeris put his arms around her waist, as she guided him into the slower and quite a bit easier dance.