They call me something and I don't have a sodding clue what it means. I mean they always told me what it meant. But I never really understood. Not until today at least.
"You're the prodigy child," Torris would say to me. "You are the future of the Quiric kingdom. You embody the purity, and controversy, that all humans must understand."
They treat me like a king, but I have as many rights as a pauper. They say that I'm a ruler, but I feel like a prisoner. They tell me I'm an idol, a symbol for our people.
And every person I've ever met thinks I'm a monster.
I've never set foot outside of Themsen, the Quiric capitol. That's generous actually. I've never stepped outside of the Royen, the church-like castle of which I was born. I rarely see the outside. I was always told that our white hair was given to us by the sun, since we had gained its favor by worshiping it. But I've rarely seen the sun. So that doesn't seem necessarily true. My people all have white hair. I've learned it's just the way we are born.
I don't know any of my family. I don't know what happened to them, if they're alive or dead, how many brothers or sisters I have. If they remember me or if they don't. I remember one time when I was about thirteen years old Torris and the other Watchers told me someone had come to see me. They let him in and he was familiar. I noticed his jaw was rigid like mine. His eyes were blue, like mine. He looked at me humbly, like he didn't deserve to be in my presence. I didn't think that way. I just wondered who he was.
They told me he was Cirric. They told me he was my father. I'd seen him once in my life. I think he remembered me. I think he realized who I was. And he looked... he looked proud of me. I don't know why though. All I've done in my life is pray, meditate and study. I didn't see what was so blighted special about that.
They left me alone with him. And we talked. He asked me mindless, trivial things. What my favorite foods were and such questions. I didn't know how to answer him and he wasn't allowed to stay long. But before he left he hugged me... I think he said he was sorry. I don't know what he was sorry about. It's not his fault I was stuck in this fortress.
Years passed by. I think I'm sixteen now. That's what they tell me. I was asleep in my bunk, dreaming of less creative things because I don't know what to dream about other than studies. All of a sudden a light shines in my room. I squint against the illuminated entrance. And I see Grand Watcher Torris standing there.
"It is time young Rivinon." That was the word they called me. The one with no meaning to me. "Please awaken. I pray you have your wits about you today."
I rubbed my eyes. "Torris? What hour is it?"
"It is time, as I said."
"Time for what?"
He looked at me with eyes that I could see even against the darkness. It made me nervous. Nervous... that would be a feeling I would beg for opposed to what I'd feel later on.
And I think Torris knew that. His face showed it to me. "It is time for you to prove yourself to the Gods, Syrius."
"You're the prodigy child," Torris would say to me. "You are the future of the Quiric kingdom. You embody the purity, and controversy, that all humans must understand."
They treat me like a king, but I have as many rights as a pauper. They say that I'm a ruler, but I feel like a prisoner. They tell me I'm an idol, a symbol for our people.
And every person I've ever met thinks I'm a monster.
I've never set foot outside of Themsen, the Quiric capitol. That's generous actually. I've never stepped outside of the Royen, the church-like castle of which I was born. I rarely see the outside. I was always told that our white hair was given to us by the sun, since we had gained its favor by worshiping it. But I've rarely seen the sun. So that doesn't seem necessarily true. My people all have white hair. I've learned it's just the way we are born.
I don't know any of my family. I don't know what happened to them, if they're alive or dead, how many brothers or sisters I have. If they remember me or if they don't. I remember one time when I was about thirteen years old Torris and the other Watchers told me someone had come to see me. They let him in and he was familiar. I noticed his jaw was rigid like mine. His eyes were blue, like mine. He looked at me humbly, like he didn't deserve to be in my presence. I didn't think that way. I just wondered who he was.
They told me he was Cirric. They told me he was my father. I'd seen him once in my life. I think he remembered me. I think he realized who I was. And he looked... he looked proud of me. I don't know why though. All I've done in my life is pray, meditate and study. I didn't see what was so blighted special about that.
They left me alone with him. And we talked. He asked me mindless, trivial things. What my favorite foods were and such questions. I didn't know how to answer him and he wasn't allowed to stay long. But before he left he hugged me... I think he said he was sorry. I don't know what he was sorry about. It's not his fault I was stuck in this fortress.
Years passed by. I think I'm sixteen now. That's what they tell me. I was asleep in my bunk, dreaming of less creative things because I don't know what to dream about other than studies. All of a sudden a light shines in my room. I squint against the illuminated entrance. And I see Grand Watcher Torris standing there.
"It is time young Rivinon." That was the word they called me. The one with no meaning to me. "Please awaken. I pray you have your wits about you today."
I rubbed my eyes. "Torris? What hour is it?"
"It is time, as I said."
"Time for what?"
He looked at me with eyes that I could see even against the darkness. It made me nervous. Nervous... that would be a feeling I would beg for opposed to what I'd feel later on.
And I think Torris knew that. His face showed it to me. "It is time for you to prove yourself to the Gods, Syrius."
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