The Great War Prologue (2): Little Boy
Hush, little baby, don't you cry. The Spirit will sing you a lullaby...
The little baby Devin holds in his hands only makes him smile in the dim torchlight as his mother naps in a bed in the corner and his father tends to the king.
Samuel is knee-deep in his studies right now, so Devin has nothing to do for quite a while. What else is he to do when his only job is shadowing the prince cycle-in and cycle-out?
He puts an index finger under his baby brother’s chin and lightly tickles him, making Ferris hiccup and giggle.
Devin’s next smile is sad, even as he feels wonderfully warm inside his heart. He hopes that Ferris will be able to live a somewhat-normal childhood life. He hopes that his brother will be able to leave the castle and explore whenever he likes. He hopes he has fun even as he trains to become his father’s successor.
He looks up at his mother. She’s still in the bed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Dark bags color the underside of her closed eyes. He hopes she’ll be able to leave this castle when she’s feeling better, too. There’s only so much to be done within these vast walls.
Devin stands, Ferris still cradled in his hands, and he paces the length of the room back and forth. It’s his parents bedroom, with a simple bed and pair of dressers the only pieces of furniture decorating the space. The chair is only a spare. There’s a baby cot as well, also a spare and will be returned once Ferris outgrows it.
Devin is used to this sort of simple living. He wonders if Ferris will find some sort of contentment with it as well.
Ferris continues to make little baby noises as Devin slowly paces. He doesn’t know if the baby is happy or simply making noise for the sake of it. Whatever the case, it only fuels the warm embers within him.
“You’re going to grow up smart and strong,” Devin mumbles under his breath. At least, that’s his dream for his little brother.
His mother draws a sharp breath from the bed, causing Devin to stop and turn. She shifts under the covers and groans, starting to wake from her slumber.
He steps up to her bedside and gently puts Ferris down on top of the covers next to her, then stands straight and waits for her to fully wake.
“Mm…” his mother hums, sitting up in bed slowly. Ferris makes a gurgling noise, which draws her attention. Her eyes are dark and bleary, yet she smiles and cradles the baby in her arms all the same.
“I hope he wasn’t any trouble,” she says, not taking her eyes away from Ferris.
“He was rather quiet,” Devin replies.
“Yes, he’s rather well-behaved,” his mother chuckles lightly. “It’s a sign from the Spirit, no doubt.”
“Yes, mother…” Devin only sighs. He’s never been the religious type, and neither has his father. As far as he’s concerned, the Spirit of Shadow is the king himself. He sometimes wonders how his father ever fell in love with a priestess.
“Come now, Devin,” his mother smiles, finally looking up at him. “The Spirit has brought us good fortune with such a wonderful child. This is what prayer can bring you.”
Devin can’t help but fold his arms and scowl. “Didn’t Cero pray as well?”
His mother’s eyes grow sad and distant, and she turns back to Ferris slowly.
“Do not speak of the king like that,” she sighs.
“Am I not right?”
“Not every prayer is answered, for we can never truly understand His intent for-”
Devin turns away from his mother’s bed. This is pretty much how all religious talk between them goes. How come he was blessed with a baby brother, but Samuel doesn’t have a mother to speak of? What did his family do versus the king?
“I shall be going now,” he says over his shoulder. His mother is quiet, with Ferris still gurgling like a baby does. He doesn’t want to be here with his mother any longer than he has to. At least, not for right now.
He steps out of the room and shuts the door behind him. He now stands in a small common space, with a low table in its center, surrounded by cushions to kneel on. One door leads left, to his room. Another door leads right to a cooking area. And a third door opposite his parent’s room leads to the numerous castle hallways.
He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, attempting to clear it from all these unanswerable questions. He isn’t a wizard who should be asking questions in the first place.
Still, what has he and his parents ever done to reward them with yet another addition to their little family, while Samuel lives with tutors and servants, almost never seeing his father and living without a mother? If the Spirit of Shadow truly exists, then maybe Samuel wouldn’t be living in royal misery.
The midcycle is warm as the two sit on the balcony attached to Samuel’s bedroom, enjoying a small plate of mint green sweetleafs, prepared by the castle cooks. They know how much Samuel loves sweetleafs.
“Sam?” Devin speaks up.
Samuel pops a little green sweetleaf into his mouth. “Yeah?”
“I mean no disrespect, but do you know what happened to your mother?” he asks slowly, staring down at the sweetleaf in his hand.
Samuel purses his lips for a moment, his gaze slipping into one of deep thought. His hand strays to the little plate of sweetleafs and idly pops another into his mouth, chewing slowly.
“Not really,” he admits, sounding somewhat indifferent. “I’ve heard bits and pieces. Do you know what happened to her?”
Devin presses his lips together and slowly nods. He does know the story, from his father. But should he tell Samuel?
“What happened?” Samuel asks him, curiosity in his eyes.
Devin shrugs. “I don’t know if I should tell you…”
Samuel just rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. “Why are you even thinking about this, Dev?”
“Something my mother said.”
“Like what?”
Devin shoves the sweetleaf in his hand into his mouth. “Something about the Spirit of Shadow.”
Samuel nods slowly.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why He decided to give me a brother,” Devin adds with a sigh.
“Well, you’re not really supposed to understand His decisions,” Samuel shrugs. “You just kind of take things in stride as they come, and trust that He knows what He’s doing.” He lets out a snort and reaches for yet another sweetleaf. “That’s what I’ve been told, anyways. I’m not a priest like your mother is.”
“You’re better off not being a priest,” Devin chuckles lightly.
“Yeah,” Samuel simply nods with a knowing smile.