Arms folded, Leo leaned out the window of his third story room. The jubilant roar of the Moon Festival carried across the four inner courtyards of the market district. He was normally not one in favor of merry gatherings of this sort, especially the large festivals that celebrated the moon passing from the full hunger moon into the darkened dead moon. The light shows that played a large part during this celebration usually captured his attention, but tonight his will was elsewhere.
It couldn't draw him in even if he wanted, not with such a dire choice rattling through his mind. Scanning the moonless sky, Leo watched as the great celebratory beams of light blazed through the celestial gloom. A spectacular sight, the colored beams put on a mesmerizing display, dancing, weaving, and intertwining until all in attendance couldn't help but stare unabashedly. Stare and wait for the dangers of the night to bite back.
Any other night the lights would have been a glorious sight, but not tonight. A different fire burned inside Leo. It was one he yearned, to his very core, to quench. Looking back to the sky, he found it reflected what he feared and wanted most – up high in the dark blanket of the sky, where intense pinpoints of light pierced the blessed, moonless expanse.
The lump in his throat rose, tasting more and more acidic. Those lights, a sign of isolation and also hope, made him long to step beyond the walls even more; to get out there where lives were tested and deeds proved the strength of mankind. He wanted to run, but he didn't, he couldn't. Not yet.
As his uncle's Levitant Barge hovered over the yard in front of their four story estate, Leo swallowed the hard lump and pushed back from the window. He had a different kind of battle to conquer first. He wouldn't avoid it. Stopping at his door, he listened to every sound that emanated from the floors below. Once the heavy boot steps and murmured greetings of the aides faded, he pushed the door open.
He maintained a steady pace down the monumental stairway giving him plenty of time to consider his words with meaningful temperance. Once on the ground floor, he crossed the dining room where the manor aides were clearing the table from their earlier supper. The only part of the table they didn't hover around was his uncle's open, pristine seat.
He couldn't remember when last his uncle had come down to supper with him and his cousins. And now that he was grown, Leo wasn't sure if his empty chair, the consistent reminder of his absence, bothered his cousins as it once did. As a person who grew up without his parents, it did bother Leo since they still had the opportunity to bond with their father where he no longer enjoyed the privilege. Their father at least owed them that much.
Leo entered the expansive, cordial quarters of his uncle's study. Literature of all manner, from archaic to some more recent, from fictitious to factual, and even some arcane scripts penned by scholars of old lined the shelves. Whatever wisdom the mind craved to digest, it could be found within these four walls. Its endless possibilities had made the study Leo's own calming sanctuary and it was the only place he rated above his personal quarters.
He found his uncle behind his expansive mahogany desk writing. He didn't move to acknowledge him until he dotted a final letter and set his pen down. Eyes meeting Leo's, his uncle motioned for Leo to take one of the vacant seats. Quite unlike Leo's father, Uncle Renwald was a short, stocky man, balding to the degree where only a scant cluster of hair occupied the backside of his head. Leo remembered, also, how his father used to laugh, but he couldn't recall the sound of his uncle expressing any emotion close to mirth.
Behind Uncle Renwald, the fireplace crackled, flames licking and biting ravenously at a fresh batch of logs. In past the thick smell of the wooden shelves seemed inviting, but even that didn't ease his sudden distaste for the room. The air had turned sour, the books unwelcoming. His uncle's silence endured as he ruffled through a particularly messy stack of papers on his neatly kept desk. When Uncle Renwald finally found the folder amidst the papers, he slid it to Leo, a warm albeit completely foreign smile on his face.
"I called in a favor and received your merits early. While far from exemplary, your performance was sufficient… adequate enough for Westmark Academy. They submitted their approval for you shortly after I applied."
Leo stared blankly at his uncle before taking the extended Data-Chron. The pinky-thin metallic sheet felt heavy in his hands, he read the displayed document over and over. Sealed and signed, it made his acceptance of Westmark's offer official. Among its myriad of menial words "Business Academy" struck Leo the most loathsome blow. What this represented was against everything he wanted out of life. It was an attack against his dreams, his future.
His stomach lurched. It was too much. The weight pressing down on him was far too great. He had to act now; it might already be too late.
"Uncle," Leo began, softly at first, "I weighed my options and decided I rather wish to attend Locksley."
Uncle Renwald's smile fell, Leo's words a forceful slap. "You chose Locksley Academy over the best business facilities in Albion, second only to Rhome Capital itself? You prefer to become an expendable soldier instead of devoting yourself to a prominent life in our line of business?" Uncle Renwald scoffed. "Outrageous! Utterly outrageous!" he boomed as he slammed his clenched, white fist on the table. Its thud echoed through the confined space, rattling Leo's nerves. "And since when do you condone this notion of fantasy?" Uncle Renwald asked, his face reddening.
Leo inhaled, returning to his calm resolve. "Long enough to realize this is the only course worth taking," he said.
"You speak of worth, boy, but you know nothing of what you speak. Do you know the world that waits outside Sanctuary?"
"I know enough," Le said, nodding. "And I intend to see it firsthand some day," he added shamelessly.
"See the world, aye? And do what then? Have you even seen a dragon? Or faced your share of gnashing goblin teeth? Do you even know what a lycanthrope looks like? And how will you react when these beasts come for you?"
"I fear no tales, Uncle. The brave people out there have long ago set an example for us to live by."
"And what example is that, exactly? Lawlessness, chaos, and death are all you will find. Do you miss your parents so much that you think it necessary to be reminded by everything and everyone around you? If you go to business school, I can hand you a future, but if you join the military, then you will end up as they did. Are you truly that eager to join them?"
Leo's fists balled up against his sides. Any insult to his parents or their memory Leo would not abide by. His uncle was a wise man, but using them to try and make an example only pushed Leo to carry on with his decision farther. They were dead. Gone. He had no right to bring them up. "Stop, Uncle! Not another word I am leaving of my own accord, whether your consent is given or not."
"And where do you imagine you will find backing without me? Tell me, is Pryde Trading's blind consent another of your fantasies, Leo?"
Leo had expected as much. He knew long before that his uncle would attempt to constrict his will. He always had with him. It was a dirty trick to play on his own blood, but from the shifting look in Uncle Renwald's eyes, it was a move born out of desperation. Expected or not, it didn't ebb the pain when it finally happened. His uncle once told him that a Pryde never turned his back on another. And now he found his uncle doing just that.
"I am backing myself with my shares in the company. Their value would not only cover my enrollment, but also see me through if something goes awry at the Academy."
"Like taint you will!" Uncle Renwald yelled, jerking to his feet so he could better lean over his desk and gain a closer look at Leo. He met Leo's light brown eyes with a penetrating glare. "Unacceptable," he said slowly. "Unfathomable. I will not condone it. Never!" he stood straighter then, his eyes burning down on Leo. His hands gripped the armrests tightly, his heart pounding in his ears as he looked at his uncle through narrowed eyes. "You choose a vagrant's path over Pryde Trading - over the company of your own blood? After all I did to set you right, through hardship and labor, I gave you a future worth living and you wish to throw it away? I will not stand idly by while you waste what I have given you. As owner of Pryde Trading do you expect I would allow the business I bled to build have the likes of the Sovereign's Blood become partners? They will turn my trading ethics into a military affair."
"The shares are mine by birthright and they are mine to employ at my will. If the company, or you for that matter, dares deny me that right, then you push me to bring down the force of the Sovereign's law on your company anyhow, uncle." Leo exhaled, gripping his fist so tightly that his knuckles cracked, to good effect. "And I will not hesitate," he added flatly.
His uncle collapsed back into his seat, his eyes wide. He had underestimated Leo, figured the boy was too subdued to resort to intimidation but today he found he was sorely mistaken. Renwald thought his words over carefully then; everything he knew as a businessman told him to conduct threats as an imminent promise of action. It was a fact of the trade, as his uncle taught him and his cousins, a blatant fact that had been instilled firmly into Leo's psyche.
A successful barter required a person to have the opposition on a weaker footing, always backing away. However, leaving them without any options might lead to desperation and that presents the problem of terrible decision making. What a person needed was an escape. Granting your opponent a glimmer of hope, one carefully crafted by the successful party, meant the trade could proceed desirably.
A slight smile formed at the corners of Leo's mouth. If his uncle wasn't the one of the receiving end, Leo was certain he'd be proud.
Even if the threat came from his nephew though, Leo expected his uncle would respond in kind. "You surprise me, nephew. You delve to lengths so low, only to accomplish a selfish juvenile need. In light of that I agree with you. It would be best for everyone if you steer far and clear of Pryde Trading," he muttered, just above the roar of the fireplace. "You truly are your parents' child," he mumbled, standing once more.
Softly spoken or not, the statement punched Leo in the gut with deadly aim.
"I will relieve you of your shares and back you to wherever it may take you so long as it is gone from my sight." With a flick of his meaty finger across the Data-Chron, Uncle Renwald revoked the Westmark application, his face void of any emotion. He swiveled his chair around and discarded the merit folder into the fire. Orange illumination radiated from the fireplace as the pages crackled and curled. They made an eerie silhouette around the bulky leather chair. Ominous. Fitting.
Leo fumbled to grasp the severity of what just happened knowing that once his uncle dismissed him, a deep loneliness waited—worse than the loneliness he had known for the greater part of his existence. It was what he wanted, but it still felt shallow.
The wave of his uncle's wrist came and went without any profound words and so Leo left the study in silence. His steps echoed in a welcome sort of rhythm. He was finally taking control. Nothing stood in his way. Looking up, instead of an empty hall he found his two cousins readily awaiting him. They drew him off to the side, making certain they were clear of any eavesdroppers.
"Are you leaving, true word?" Garren asked. He was the youngest cousin and for once, his chipper trademark grin was missing.
"Aye, true word," Leo replied, the fact still taking root in his mind leaving the bubbling excitement to surge through his core.
"You're not afraid of what is out there… beyond Sanctuary? What about all those awful stories, Leo. You have to be scared," Garren babbled. His hands held fast to each other, the only way to calm his nerves.
"I am, but you cannot run from your fears forever. Especially if it stands in the way of something your heart desires."
"Avoid his fancies, Gar," Dane, the eldest, said, his back straight and chin high. "Leo is abandoning us like they all do—plain and simple. Anyone can see that"
The words stung. The brothers had lost their mother to the plague epidemic when Garren was only a few days old, which wasn't long after Leo's parents disappeared without a trace. It was why they got along more like brothers than cousins. They had always shared a deeper measure of empathy.
There were none to be spared for him now though. While Garren merely wanted Leo to stay out of an infantile need, nearly pleading with him as he clasped his hands together, Dane was far colder. As he always did when he was annoyed, Dane folded his arms and grimaced in a way as if he smelled rotten fish.
"You know I'm not Dane, and you know I have always spoken of travels into the world beyond Sanctuary."
"Like father says," Dane sneered, "Those are words of youth and ignorance. They only shame is they will carry on with you into manhood. But that is your choice, and because we are blood, I wish you luck – but I will not have you spewing tainted lies and influencing my brother."
Leo opened his mouth to speak, but felt his lungs devoid of breath and his mind of words. Deep down, he had hoped for more understanding, a gesture of acceptance even, from the two brothers. They had always played in the confines of the walls and Leo had ever been the dreamer where Dane was the reliable one and Garren ever the jokester.
He had never thought that his uncle's thoughts would carry on so distinctively in his sons. After all, why would a father's mind not carry on to his sons? At that moment it was his own father's thoughts he envied. His parents shared his sense of adventure and curiosity, and again that sense of lonesomeness filled Leo.
"Come Gar, off to bed. Your tutor will be here in the morrow," Dane said. He took a long hard stare at Leo, his dull brown eyes – the eyes of a Pryde, even if only in color as far as Leo was concerned – narrowed. "To bed with you, as well, Leo."