Chapter 2 – Dreams
Many hours later Winter sat, exhausted, in his personal chambers. He had not yet moved into the royal apartments. He wasn't sure he was going to. His own quarters had always been perfectly adequate, and being a foster son, were in the royal quarter already. He removed the heavy crown from his head and placed it, gently, on a nearby table. It was already overflowing with gifts from well-wishers and the addition of the crown caused a small cascade to float down off of it.
“You handled that very well”, said Devonshire. She sat in his guest chair, the tighter buttons and ties from her formal gear loosened and her hair no longer magically bound. She took a swig from a wineskin and then passed it to him. “I thought you might like a drink after all that. I don't think I'd ever get used to the lack of drink down here.”
Winter accepted it and shrugged. “No grapes. No sun. No fermentation.” He drank a polite amount and passed it back. “Not that they aren't without their vices here. Instead of drinking them, they eat borderline poisonous fish and clams that cause similar intoxication with fun hallucinations and worse hangovers thrown in for good measure.”
“I don't look forward to dealing with that”, said Devonshire. She gave Winter's bed a kick and there was an incoherent grunt and ramble from a shape curled up under the covers.
“Greywind?” asked Winter.
“Greywind”, said Devonshire. They both laughed softly.
Devonshire drank again. “I always expected great things of you, son.” She omitted that she had expected them to take longer to come to fruition. “But I didn't think you would arise to godhood so quickly!”
Winter sputtered. “Hardly. I'm really just keeping the seat warm. It's more of a ceremonial position.”
Devonshire shrugged. “Well, growing up they taught us in Religious Education about the Surge of the North Seas, the festivals, and placatory rights. If you ask the northern fishing villages they'll say you're a god. They'll worship you, and mana will flow in your direction.”
“I wouldn't know what to do with it”, said Winter. “And, if I remember my lessons correctly, the definition of a god, as distinct from a mage, is a creature who can work magic powered by mana received from worship.”
“That is the textbook definition”, ceded Devonshire. “But I've always wondered what would happen if a mage was put in that position.”
“I'm not a mage either”, said Winter. “I've never had the time to learn it. And I'm pretty sure I don't have the aptitude.” He watched her closely to see if that either disappointed or enraged her.
Devonshire sighed deeply. As the head mage of the Scioni Academy of Magic, she had the whole world of things magical to offer to her son. But this fostership had kept him away, and the events of the day had robbed her of the time to lay the right foundation. And, who he had grown into was good, and worthy of respect. She had come to terms with the choices he had made and made the decision to support them, and not try to change them. “Well, you certainly have the aptitude for delegation! And”, she shook her finger at him, “I'm not being sarcastic. Too few people do. Most either dump things they don't want on other people, or cling to things because their ego gets in the way of giving it to someone who is better at it. Don't think I wasn't watching you tonight. You did an excellent job.”
Winter smiled, despite himself. He had always counted the hours until he got leave to see his mother while growing up. But by the end of the visit things always turned confrontational. Something had changed though. The slaughter of the gods had sobered everyone up a lot. Maybe that was part of it. But she treated him as an equal as often as not, now, which, surprisingly, made it easier for him to treat her as his mother.
“I'll just have to see how long I can keep it up for”, said Winter. “How long are you going to bust Balanoptera's balls for?”
Devonshire laughed. “Oh, I'd really like to beat a lot of lessons into that pile of blubber. But I don't trust myself.” She took another swig of wine. “If I made him as miserable as you have been it would be justice, not to mention cathartic, but would hardly demonstrate our moral superiority.”
“No mandatory history lessons with Penny?” asked Winter, disappointed.
Devonshire pointed a finger at him and smiled. “No. I like her too much. I racked my brains for something that might actually stand a chance of improving his personality.”
“Some of Lilly's forced Will experiments?” Winter asked hopefully.
Devonshire snorted. “No. I signed him up for a tour of duty with the army.”
“Huh”, said Winter. “Digging ditches?”
“Canals actually”, said Devonshire. “I think he'll actually be good at it.”
“Once he gets over the fact that he actually has to do work, instead of getting someone else to do it”, said Winter.
“Yes. That's the character forming part”, said Devonshire. “But to actually do something he's good at, receive praise for actual work rather than position, and see the benefits that his labor brings to others. That'll prepare him to sit on the seat you're keeping warm.”
“Devious”, said Winter, rolling the scenario around in his head. “Well, I know who I'll be delegating my serious discipline problems to!”
Devonshire laughed and the two sat in silence for a while.
Winter's smile faded as the minutes passed. He reached out and stroked the pearls of the crown. “Mom”, he said into the silence. “I'm scared.”
She turned, surprised, looking at him. “You've got this”, she said, placating. “I saw how you handled things. This is totally...”
“No”, interrupted Winter, forcefully. “It's not that.” He fell silent again. Devonshire watched closely, but didn't prompt him. “It's the god thing” he said eventually.
“Well”, said Devonshire carefully. “I'm not sure that it is all that different. If the mana comes, and you find you can use it, I'm pretty sure you will use it wisely. If it doesn't... we'll work things out. I know you take your responsibilities seriously. You don't want to see prayers unanswered. If it comes to that, the Academy will step in to work a few miracles where you need them.”
“Thanks”, said Winter distractedly. “I hadn't even thought of that.”
“What then?” said Devonshire in confusion.
He looked up at her, his eyes wide. He pointed to his chest. “Dad's in here”, he said. “Somewhere. He knows how to use mana. What if this pulls him out? You said he was very strong willed.”
Devonshire placed the wineskin to one side. She leaned forward and grasped his hand. “That's not going to happen”, she said, emphatically. “He was bloody minded and obstinate. That's different from your metaphysical Will. It doesn't work the same. He's neatly packaged under a nice layer in your Soul. It's a barrier he can't cross. Not of his own free will.”
“What if I summon him?” asked Winter.
“Why would you do that?” asked Devonshire, alarmed.
“I don't know”, said Winter. “Given what's happened it isn't outside the realm of reason that there might be a situation where I could really use the abilities of a battle god that can use mana.”
Devonshire took a deep breath. “I don't have an answer to that”, she said. “I'm not going to lie to you. We really don't know an awful lot about this. We've only ever seen one ruptured past life barrier.”
“Lilly?” asked Winter. Devonshire nodded. “Mom”, he said again, very seriously. “I've been having dreams again.”
Devonshire stiffened. “What sort of dreams? Is he talking to you?”
“No”, said Winter. “Not exactly. Mostly I see windswept ocean, or a storm lashed shore. Occasionally a high mountain with lightning coming from its peak. It could be nothing, but it feels like him. It feels like what I think he would feel like.”
“Hmm”, said Devonshire. “This is new territory. You're right. It might be nothing. But it might not be.”
“What should I do”, said Winter.
“Well, you are now y
our own master”, she waved around his surroundings. “No one can tell you that you can't come or go. Settle into your routine, then come and visit the academy. There's nothing to stop you now. I'll brief Lilly and ask her to talk with you. She knows more than anyone else. She can work out if this is significant or not.”
“OK”, said Winter, but didn't let go of her hand.
Black Warrior Page 2