'It is getting harder to hide Gilgamesh's gift of speech from the house staff. They have grown fond of him, and have even given him a nickname. We must be careful when we speak to him.'
'Time is flying, and pretty soon the brave youngsters from the Southern Province will arrive, looking to prove themselves. I must make preparations for their reception.'
'I wonder, as Gilgamesh's first birthday will soon be upon us, if I should start to keep record of his growth. Angelica has ensured me that it is a great idea, but I think that may just be because she doesn't want to do it herself. She seems to be having all the fun with him these days.'
'It's like she's the only one of us that's taking the chance to actually be a parent. I feel like a hypocrite. I guess a part of me just isn't ready to accept him as my son yet.'
'Every day he bombards us with questions, which seems a bit ridiculous, all things considered, but at night it's like he becomes someone else. Angelica cradles him and he just listens to her ramble on, or falls asleep to her lullabies.'
'In those moments, I feel like he is really our son, and think back to the phenomenon of Angelica's spirit being damaged when he was born. What could that even mean?'
Logan Dramaour's Thoughts As He Sits In His Study|
"Rise and shine, Gil!"
A middle-aged maid entered Gilgamesh's room with a fresh set of clothes and a towel. The young lad was still asleep in his crib, so she gently shook him awake.
Gilgamesh was used to this, and would perform some minor antics upon being woken. It seemed natural enough, and the maid picked him up to prepare him for the day ahead.
"First we'll wash up, then breakfast with Lady Angelica, okay Gil?" The maid cheerfully took Gilgamesh up and gave him an outline of his morning in a sing-song voice. She was usually spirited, and Gilgamesh found it quite amusing.
All of the house staff were more or less like this, and they all absolutely adored him and his parents.
After an overly bubbly bath, Gilgamesh was taken to the dining room and placed at the table in his high chair. Angelica was already there waiting for him, a bowl of something warm in her hands. With each full spoon, she would make a show of demonstrating to him how he was supposed to open his mouth, and made many obnoxious sounds while doing it.
Gilgamesh was used to this, but he still took the opportunity to call her out on it when no one was around.
"You know you don't have to do any of that," Gilgamesh swallowed the mashed sweet potatoes and wiped his mouth.
Angelica giggled, "But you're just so cute, and besides, it can't hurt to keep up appearances."
Sighing, Gilgamesh nodded and opened his mouth, unintentionally mimicking her 'ahh' sound. She snorted at this, and he turned his face from her as he chewed the mashed potatoes with his few teeth.
His hair had barely grown in the 11 months since his birth, which Cassius said wasn't out of the ordinary. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that Gilgamesh had no hair, as the few wispy strands atop his head were barely even noticeable. It was even harder to guess at what color his hair would be, whether a deep ivory like his mother, or black like his father's.
He definitely did not have either of their eyes, as Logan's were golden and hers were brown. Gilgamesh had the most mystifying silver eyes, shining like perfectly polished platinum. They would dart about, catching the light in such a spectacular way that they mesmerized Angelica on many occasions; she would spend a lot of time staring at her son.
After breakfast, they went to the veranda just outside of the living room, on the first floor. Angelica sat with Gilgamesh on her lap, looking out at the manor.
"You'll be one year old soon, on the thirteenth day in the month of Amon. The very next day, your father is expecting the young men and women from the Southern Province to arrive. This is the month that the people believe Amon, one of the Twelve, will take note of their actions, and so a tradition is kept."
"In the final month of every year, the month of Amon, children who have come of age will leave their homes and journey to another province, as per the Cycle of Heirs."
Gilgamesh listened to Angelica with interest, posing a question the instant he heard something he did not understand. "The cycle of heirs? What is that?"
"The Cycle of Heirs is a symbolic record of the earliest Pharaohs and their descent. Starting with the Northern Province and ending at the Eastern Province, it is cycle that the Kingdom has followed ever since the first Pharaoh was chosen by the Church of the Twelve."
"A Pharaoh is chosen from the North, the West, the South and the East, then the cycle begins anew."
"The very first Pharaoh was King Hafra, of the Northern Province. In his time, it was known as the Land of the Sever; some still call it that."
"After King Hafra came King Pimay, of the Western Province, called the Land of the Star-fall. King Merkare hailed from the Southern Province, that borders the Plains of the Shafra People, and is called the Land of the Shield."
"Finally, the last of the early pharaohs, King Amasis, who was born in the Wasteland. He grew up here, in the Eastern Province, and became King through his deeds. He is now known as the Downfall of the Era- the Pharaoh that failed the Kingdom of Eusia. It is a title that even our current Pharaoh, King Yehia, perpetuates."
Up till this point, Angelica's expression had been bright, as if she found some sense of fulfillment in telling this history to her son. However, when she came to the topic of King Amasis, something sour crept onto her face and she scowled. Gilgamesh could only guess that she did not agree with the title King Amasis was given.
"Each of the names that the Provinces were once called reflects something of their history. This province is called the Land of the Pierce because it is the considered to be the one point that the Wasteland's blight entered through- pierced through- into Eusia."
"So," Angelica shook off the sourness from her face, "following that line of succession, young adults from the North will go to the West, those from the West go to the South, Southerners will go to the East and the Easterners will head North. However, there are some that do not stop, and make the journey around the entire kingdom until they get back to their own Province."
"Why?"
"As a way of further proving themselves. The more capable a child is, the greater their chances of being taken under the Kingdom's wing and serving the King directly. They have a chance of being nurtured by some of the greatest warlocks and warriors in the world."
"You've mentioned that word many times before, but never explained it. What is a warlock, exactly?"
Angelica paused, "You don't know?"
Gilgamesh shook his little head, the very picture of 'not a clue.'
"I suppose not; I never told you about that. I guess I assumed you would know about that, what with you being so magical and whatnot."
Gilgamesh blinked.
"Ahem! Anyone that can use magic is considered a warlock, but the title only suits those that have achieved mastery of an element or a force. The elements are, as I'm sure you know, Earth, Water, Wind, Fire, Thunder, Shadow and Light."
"The forces, on the other hand, are tricky to master, but even more powerful than the elements. They are Time, Space, Matter, Life and Death. Aside from those, a sub-species of sorts exists called Neutral Magic, which all warlocks rely on to help them master the element or force they are most suited to. Without proper use of Neutral Magic, it is impossible to utilize any element or force, which is why the first step toward mastery of magic is the mastery of Neutral Magic."
Gilgamesh seemed taken aback. Memories of the past revisited him, and in them something stood out. Thanks to the knowledge he had just received, it seemed to him that there was yet another major difference.
He did not know what magic was, because it was a power that only the Gods of his land could wield. However, that was not the same here. Mortals could master divine powers; the powers of Gods.
Later that day, while Angelica and Gilgamesh were having lunch, Logan joined them. Gilgamesh took that opportunity to inform them both of his interest in magic, and asked how he could learn more.
"That will take time. I'm still not sure what exactly to call your ...situation. We don't know enough. So, like any other child, you will have to wait till your old enough."
"Is there some requirement for learning magic?" Gilgamesh looked to Angelica, and saw her laugh nervously.
"Angelica must have forgotten to mention. If you try to use magic before you've properly developed, you will cause permanent damage to your spirit. There is no workaround for this."
Gilgamesh nodded, slightly disappointed. Still, if waiting was all he needed to do, then he could do so without issue. Spending eons in nether-earth had that effect on him. The passage of time, even after he had reincarnated, was something he was numb to.
Days, weeks, months- they all blurred together until he could not tell the difference. He would not have known anything about the month of his birth, or any of the months in general, if Angelica hadn't brought it up.
While they were having their lunch, there was a knock at the main doors that led to the hall. There was also a door that led to the kitchens, and the servant that was standing there crossed the room to open the main doors once Logan gave the okay.
Into the room came a man that instantly caught Gilgamesh's eye.
He wore bright, scaled armor over a leather tunic, and a shield was affixed to his back under which he had tucked a blade of some kind; the handle could be seen poking out. The man's skin was darkened from innumerable hours in the sun, and his every limb echoed the mighty roar of a warrior. He seemed impenetrable, like a fortress in the shape of a man. He had his helm tucked under his arm, and he saluted to Logan and Angelica, and also to Gilgamesh.
"Master Dramaour, Mistress Dramaour, Young Dramaour, good day to you." In a strong and heavy voice, he brushed aside his long and wild brown hair.
"Ah, Maximus. At east, at ease, we're at lunch. Care to join us?" Logan waved his hand about, signaling to Maximus that he should hold off on delivering his message.
"I'm afraid it cannot wait." Maximus' expression was grave, which they only realized after he arose from his salute.
Logan swallowed the last of his food, then made a gesture with his hand. Maximus took a few steps toward the table, stopping before he was too close.
"The first of the young nobles has arrived, sir."
Logan rose in his seat, eyes narrowing. His youthful face instantly took on a number of years, and his expression began to show signs of mirroring the graveness of Maximus'. "They're early. Have they named themselves?"
Maximus gulped and shook his head, looking at the ground. The words he wanted to say were stuck on his tongue, and fear was kindled behind his eyes. He looked to Angelica, and the baby sat next to her, in his high chair.
Maximus was scared ...for them.
"They haven't named themselves? Did they at least tell you where they're from?"
Maximus stiffened, and nodded, but did not say a word. Logan scowled, "Why do you not speak, Maximus?"
The mighty man shut his eyes and shook his head. Then, with a sudden change of mannerism, he bit down on his lip and looked Logan dead in the eyes.
"Sir. It is because they both bear the Holy Crest of Eusia, which currently rests with House Yehia, of the Royal Family. They are Prince and Princess of Eusia, children of King Yehia."
Logan froze, and Angelica dropped her fork. Neither of them could have imagined that the children of the King, Holy Descendants of Pharaoh, would come to the Eastern Province.