A second chill ran down my spine and again I wondered whether I should turn the page. But Kaspar had turned the page – the letter had been opened – and I couldn’t let go of the desire to know what had compelled him to disregard his mother’s wish.
Just do it, my voice snapped impatiently and spurred on, I turned the page and began to read once more.
I will assume, Kaspar, that if you are in possession of this letter that I have passed from this world and am no longer able to convey my knowledge to you with a mother’s embrace – an event for which I am deeply sorry. It is my own mistake that has led me to writing this letter, for I should have been sincere and honest with you from the onset. But I could not ruin your happiness, my son, and I ask firstly for your forgiveness for my weakness.
Secondly, I ask that you do not be angry with your father, as you undoubtedly will be. I know that what he will say to you will make no sense and may seem to be another superficial whim of his, but you must understand that what he does is for your own well-being. Understand that I instructed him to act in such a way, as well as to prompt you to read this letter when it becomes apparent you must. How he does that is of his choosing, but do not be angry. He is your father and he does it out of love.
Before I explain to you what could warrant such words, I will tell you that you may trust Eaglen and Arabella as confidants about what I will shortly tell you. Of course, your father also knows. On my request they keep a silent vigil but all three will gladly hear your questions.
To truly appreciate what I have to tell you, I must take you back to many millennia before you or any of your siblings were born. During a particularly warm Romanian summer, your father and I paid a state visit to Athenea, where we were received by the then young King Ll’iriad Alya Athenea and his wife, pregnant with their first child.
The court at Athenea was a vibrant place, full of the most praised philosophers, academics and astrologers; it was the centre for all deemed revolutionary within the nine dimensions. One of these famed thinkers was a certain Nab’ial Contanal, rising in standing after receiving a royal patron for the Prophecy of the Heroines that you are quite familiar with. Upon our introduction, I was immediately struck by his devotion to the belief that man and woman should be bestowed with equal status – something very few of us had entertained at the time – and found myself listening intently to his talks during the many dinners and dances that occurred.
As previously mentioned, the season was unnaturally hot and one afternoon, when walking alone, I profess that I found myself overcome from the humidity. Contanal, passing, saw my plight and offered to let me rest in his nearby quarters, which were shaded and faced away from the noon sun. Although inappropriate, I accepted his offer – to this day I do not know why.
It was here, half in a daze, that I was witness to a most extraordinary speech. Contanal, pacing between his cluttered shelves, began telling me in a most agitated way that his visions about the Heroines had not ended with his twelve previous verses. A new work he had begun, starting with the second Heroine, the heart of which he was the most fascinated by.
For the first time since Autumn and I had talked at Varns’ Point, a truly uneasy feeling passed through me. This was real. I was one of the Heroines this prophet, Contanal, had written about, thousands of years before.
He then began to detail, with what I would discover years later, uncanny accuracy, events which I could not have foreseen or dreamt of at the time. He told me that I would have six children – four sons, two daughters – before proceeding to tell me the names your grandfather would give to you and your exact birth dates. But it became apparent quickly that it was only the fourth child, a son – you – he was concerned with.
I am not naïve to the power of fate, but what he told me next was near unimaginable. Neither do I pretend to understand the ways of the Sage, nor how they wield the magic in their veins, but his perception was unnatural. In truth, I thought his ideas to be warped, but in my heart I knew them to be true.
He described that during the lifetime of my fourth child, a girl would enter his life – a girl bestowed or perhaps cursed with the title of second Heroine. This girl’s life would become irreversibly tied to the Kingdom and to the fourth child, heir to the throne. To you, Kaspar. He explained that resistance would have no worth, for the girl’s status would bring the two of you into constant contact. In short, you and the second Heroine are tied together by fate.
The paper fluttered to the ground. My hands dropped to the sheets and gripped them, tightly. That’s why. It explained everything: why the King would not let me and Kaspar touch; why he talked of responsibility – Kaspar was duty bound to his Kingdom’s Heroine; why Kaspar had become so withdrawn since he returned from Romania: the King must have told him to read this letter. My voice and the dreams too – Kaspar, again.
He is tied by fate to me. He just didn’t know it was me yet.
A strange mixture of emotion rose in me and I didn’t know whether to be elated or sickened. I had no choice, yet again, and the idea of being tied to someone I barely knew and had hated until a few weeks ago was unnerving.
Yet …
Compulsively, I reached and snatched the paper from the floor.
This will not seem fair to you. It will seem a great injustice. You may not love this girl or even be acquaintances, but you must accept your fate, for the good of the Kingdom and her heart, whether she loves you or not. She will need you. To become a Heroine will be a lonely plight and she will need someone to trust. It is your duty; your responsibility.
I’d need him. I already needed him.
But not all is entirely lost, sweet child. Two people who are thrown together often learn to love, over time, and she will possess many of the qualities you admire – if she did not, she would not be a Heroine. In some ways, it may be a blessing to you: if you choose to marry her and make her your Queen, you will be in an extraordinarily strong position politically. Whatever you choose, this girl will remain in your life. But you must make what you can of this. Remember your duty to her and all will be well.
Contanal died before he ever published his second prophecy on the Heroines and his papers were burnt or else hidden deep within Athenea. Many say that he was murdered by the Extermino to ensure the Prophecy never became truly complete – a rumour I am inclined to believe: Contanal was not an old man and the Sage rarely ail. Therefore, what he did discern about the Heroines (other than the main Prophecy) was long forgotten, save for what was passed down by word of mouth. For that reason, I do not know whether you are alone in your plight of being tied; not even the wisest of prophets know anything near to what could be called the whole truth about Contanal’s Prophecy. So we will never know, until the time of the Heroines is here.