Touch of Destiny by lyneaky2 | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Worthy and Willing

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15 September

 

In the late morning, Kallus went up to Calda's door and knocked. The woman opened within moments and gasped to see Kallus standing on her porch.

"Se turessé," he greeted. "I have come to retrieve the orphan that resides here."

Calda went wide-eyed. "Wha—you've made a decision already?"

"Yes, it's been decided the boy is to live with me."

"Really? That's—that's news. Wait here, I'll go get him."

The woman disappeared for a moment and returned with the two youngsters at her sides, Ashlyn and Damien.

"Forgive me," Calda stammered, "I just didn't think it would be so quick."

"Yes." Kallus formed an empty smile. "Kyanthus and Milanthius wanted to be rid of this matter immediately. I spoke fast, and...here we are."

"Kallus..." Calda seemed baffled by the idea. "…I fail to understand. Why you?"

"I suppose that remains to be seen," Kallus lied. "I certainly have the means to board another child, and I couldn't very well let the orphan go homeless. His well-being is important to you, is it not?"

"Well..." Calda glanced down at Damien. "I suppose I hate the idea of letting him go homeless, too, but I have no intention of asking you to do something you may come to regret."

"I do not think adopting an orphan will ever be on my list of regrets," Kallus said, then he looked at the boy. "Say your goodbyes if you must, we should leave promptly."

"Um..." Damien stared at Calda and Ashlyn, unsure of what to say to them. "Goodbye?"

Calda was the first to hug him farewell.

"It looks like this is your fate, young one. I wish you well in the House of Kallus."

Then Ashlyn came over and squeezed Damien tight, much to his discomfort.

"See?" She smiled. "I knew you would find a place here. This isn't goodbye, Damien, I'll come again when the seasons turn."

"Goodbye, Ashlyn." Damien waved at the girl. "Thanks for helping me."

So far, Kallus was comfortable with his choice. This boy, Damien, appeared to have good instincts. He was wary of the Sorceress, and if he was lucky, perhaps this was the closest he would ever be to her.

"Come along, boy." Kallus gestured with his head. "I shall take you to your home."

The two women waved at Damien as he walked off with Kallus. It was a cool but cloudy day. The gray sheet above the trees offered the promise of rain, though there was no downpour at the moment.

Kallus was unsure of how to open a conversation with the boy so he remained silent. He took small steps so that Damien could keep up with Kallus' longer legs. In a word, the boy was frail. Not a healthy specimen for a human. There was a great deal of work to be put into this child: to feed him, make him stronger, let alone train him with the tools of the forge. But that was tomorrow's battle. Today, the struggle was for Damien to be accepted into the House, to be embraced as an equal.

"How many elves are in your home?" the boy asked, drawing Kallus from his own thoughts.

"Does it matter?" Kallus replied.

"It does to me," Damien said. "I just want to be prepared."

"You mean to say that you're frightened?" Kallus lifted a brow. "Do not be frightened, child, my House is small compared to most."

***

A small house? Damien was relieved to hear it. He wasn't sure what to make of this Kallus. The elf spoke well but he seemed rather unfeeling and cold. His aquamarine eyes seemed hardened at all times, as if he were a commanding officer in charge of many soldiers. His chin and nose were sharp, yet his jaw and forehead were flat and widely set. His hair was a dirty blond color and much too long for Damien's preference, but overall, Kallus didn't seem evil.

In truth, though, Damien would've been more frightened of someone kinder. People who were kind—people like Ashlyn—gave Damien this odd feeling. He couldn't trust in it.

The elf led him along a beautiful path through the village until they came to a huge manor that sat near the western edge of the village, surrounded by several pristine gardens and trees. A long, leafy archway separated the house from the rest of the village and opened up into the most stunning front yard Damien had ever seen.

This was no small house, he realized. This was a glorious mansion. Standing outside was a family of elves clustered together, waiting.

Damien saw two women and two children all with anxious smiles on their faces. All light-skinned and light-haired like the forest-dwelling Lor elves they were. By contrast, Damien was quite dark, even his skin was a darker shade than these people. How would he ever be accepted here? How could he live like this?

"Damien?" Kallus placed a hand on his back, scooting him forward. "Let me introduce my family. This is my wife, Lanara." He pointed to the first woman, with fine golden hair and crystal blue eyes.

"Well met." Lanara took his hands and kissed Damien's forehead. "You are welcome here."

Then Kallus motioned for the young female to step forward. She took after her mother, with the same blue irises and gold hair, but with more fierceness in her eyes.

"This is my daughter, Lilathanor. She is my eldest, sixteen years."

"Hi." Lila waved at Damien in greeting. "You can call me Lila, everyone else does."

"Hello, Lila." Damien nodded at her, feeling his own cheeks reddening. For a female, she was stunning. If only she were not a Lor elf.

"And this is my son, Níhilan," Kallus continued. "My youngest. You two are closer in age, actually. He recently turned thirteen."

Damien wasn't sure how old he was, but he supposed he was around the age of thirteen also.

This Níhilan didn't seem eager to speak to anyone, but with the push of his father, he stepped forward and said, "Hello. I don't have a cute, shortened name."

"Me either," Damien said. He couldn't think of anything better.

Níhilan looked a lot like his older sister but his eyes were different, more green than blue. His hair was short and spiky against his scalp, like it had been recently cut. Though the boy was lean, it was obvious he had good layers of muscle on his arms and chest. He stared at Damien, scanning him up and down.

"Where the Fates did you come from?" Níhilan asked.

"Níhilan!" Kallus snapped at his son. "You keep talking like that and I'll punish you. You know better."

Níhilan fell silent after that warning and stepped back into the formation.

"Lastly, this is our confidant and housekeeper, Tenila," Kallus said, gesturing to the second woman who stood near. "She helps with everything around here, including taking care of children. You can inquire her for your every need, boy, she is well-paid for it."

Tenila came forward and bowed in respect to Damien, which caught him extremely off-guard. She seemed a bit older than Kallus and Lanara, with darker hair that was beginning to gray along the front and sides.

"Welcome to the House of Kallus, master Damien," Tenila greeted. "We've gotten your space all set up."

"My space?" Damien glanced up at Kallus. "My very own space? I can go wherever I want?"

"You'll find no restrictions here," Kallus assured him. "But you must be respectful of our dwelling. Tenila abhors having to clean up after children, and I abhor having to discipline children. There are rules and routines in place that must be adhered to. You will learn them in time."

With introductions out of the way, Kallus led him inside. His family flanked behind them, all clumping together in the front entryway.

Damien held his breath as he took in the splendorous manor for himself. It was lit by a dominating fireplace that stood in front of a large animal-skinned sofa and several chairs. The central chandelier was set with twelve radiant lamps, the banisters were made of smooth oak, and the windows were spaced nicely apart. It was a well-fashioned house, built with more rooms than the family probably had need for. From the entryway, Damien could see a library, a kitchen, and a dining room with its own crystal chandelier hanging from it.

"I shall show you your space," Kallus said, leading Damien to the second level of the house. They passed through a long corridor set with guest rooms, gilded sculptures, and ornate paintings. On the other side was a more open wing set with two large bedrooms and a single window. Kallus went to the large room on the left and showed Damien in.

Damien took in his new quarters and gasped. There was a wide bed fit with dark cotton sheets, a carved desk that held several bound books and candles, and a closet that was bigger than his dresser. His windows were draped over for the moment, but from the ceiling hung a small chandelier which lit up the space well enough.

Kallus went over and uncovered the windows, letting in the stark daylight. Peering outside, Damien took in the gardens that adorned the perimeter of the house, lovely and colorful.

"I, uh, I can't believe this is mine," Damien said. "I certainly did nothing to deserve it."

"I am sure you will earn it in due time," Kallus replied, causing the boy to puzzle at him.

"What?"

"Tomorrow I require you down in the forge," he explained. "As a member of a House, you will receive an education same as anyone who resides here, and because you are human, I’m obligated to give you trade skills."

"You...want me to work for you? Just to live here?"

"It is our law." Kallus nodded. "I want you to rest today. Have supper with us, understand our rules and culture."

"That is a weird law."

"We all have responsibilities here, boy. As long as you uphold them, I will meet your every need. In time, you will have the power to fashion yourself as anything you need to be here in Lorianthil. I only ask that you learn and perform without complaint—something I cannot abide."

"Alright." Damien accepted it slowly, this strange new life. At least he wasn't a prisoner. "I think I can do that." He noticed Kallus moving closer, bending slightly to be more level with the boy.

"There is one more responsibility," Kallus said, dipping his voice, "you will inherit my burden when the time comes."

Damien didn't understand, but he dared not ask. He stared at the elf, voiceless.

"One day..." Kallus continued, "I will pass on my bloodright. It must go to an heir of my House, and I intend that heir to be you."

"But...why me?" Damien squinted. "I'm nothing to you. It's my first day here and you're already talking about— inheritance. I— I don't understand."

"In time you will understand," the elf assured him. "But first, I would have you be worthy and willing to take my bloodright. You will learn, you will grow. This is your immediate task."

"I guess I'm willing," Damien shrugged. "What more could I expect out of this life anyway?"

Kallus met him with a grin. "Nothing at all."

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