Noise rose from the dining hall behind him, and Neph smiled as he carried his plate of food to his own quarters. The sound of laughter was welcome in his halls, and it was something he hadn’t thought to hear again for a long while. Every man and woman in the dining hall behind him had suffered in the war, but they were moving on, and the sounds behind him were proof of it. He probably should have stayed behind to dine with them. If for nothing more than to reassure them that he was one of them, his self-imposed exile had been a long one, and they were still grudging with their acceptance of him as their leader. He knew his absence would be noted because of that, but he had a lot to think on, and it was best to do it without distractions.
His pace slowed as he neared his chambers and he stared hard at the carved stone door before shifting his mug of beer to one arm to push it open. These were his father’s old rooms, and the sight of that door still awakened a buried feeling of dread every time he approached it. RenDelvayon was dead, but he still seemed to haunt Neph at every turn. With an irritated sigh he shoved the door open, more annoyed with himself than anything else. It was a stupid childish thing to dread a room, and the sooner he moved passed his memories the better off Delvay was.
Dim candlelight greeted him as he stepped into the room, and Neph frowned in response. He had purposefully avoided the rooms all day, and he knew there had been no candles burning when he had left that morning. His eyes swept over the entry hall and froze at the sight of the woman seated against the wall. His plate of food dropped from nerveless fingers to clatter on the floor as he stared at her with a bewildered expression. Her hair was a deep chestnut and artfully styled in loose curls that framed her heart shaped face. Wide honey brown eyes stared back at him as his gaze wandered over her silver robes and finally settled on the gold amulet that dangled around her neck. It was a symbol he was growing more and more familiar with as the days passed by. Fortune had never been an Aspect he had favored highly, but it was rapidly growing apparent that Fortune favored him for some reason. Swallowing heavily Neph tried to pull his mind back in order as his gaze rose from the woman to the painting that hung on the wall just behind her. It was the only image of her remaining in Delvay, and one of the few of his father’s possessions that he had chosen to keep aside from the furniture and books that adorned the room.
“Hello Mother.” Neph said after a silence that had seemed to stretch eternity. His voice was rough and barely loud enough to be heard, but he was certain he had kept most of his emotions from his voice. He still wasn’t sure which emotion was going to win the day. Anger and elation were locked in a bitter struggle for control of his scattered mind, but shock was ruling for the time being.
“Neph.” She returned the greeting and he could hear her own distress in the word. She hadn’t guarded her voice as carefully as he had, and he could read the desperation clearly. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted to come to him, that she wanted him to weep or show joy or give her some sign that she would understand.
It was apparent by that expression on her face that she had been gone from the halls of Delvay too long. She had completely forgotten what it was to be Delvayon. I suppose it’s my duty to remind her Neph mused. He squared his shoulders and glanced down at the broken plate by his feet. With a sweep of his hand he dismissed the mess with magic. Silently he closed the door behind him as the last pieces of his mind settled into place. Shock was banished without a second thought replaced by carefully honed coldness. Anger and elation could wait. For now he needed practicality without emotional attachment. His mother hadn’t simply materialized out of nowhere to ease his mind, she wanted something, and he had to keep his mind rational until he found out what it was. He couldn’t allow himself to be ruled by emotions right now, Delvay depended on him to be solid no matter what surprises were thrown at him.
She faltered at his stern expression and seemed to wilt back into her chair. With a glance down to the floor she folded her hands in her lap and summoned a weak smile. “I should have known to expect this reaction, and it’s far kinder than I deserve. Thank you for controlling your anger Neph.” Her voice was low and held a tremor as she spoke, but she hastily cleared her throat in an attempt to banish her nerves.
“I’m holding it for now. I won’t make promises that I’ll keep it in check. That decision is based solely on whatever you are here for.” Neph explained firmly before taking a deep pull from his beer. Fortunately he hadn’t dropped it as he had his food. At the present beer was far more welcome than dinner. He doubted he could keep food down with his stomach as tied in knots as it was now. “So tell me Mother. What are you here for?” he asked coldly as he crossed the room to his small table and sat the mug down.
With calmness that he didn’t feel he settled into one of the high backed wooden chairs that he hated so much. Nothing in Delvay was designed for comfort, and these chairs were the perfect example. Sturdy, well-constructed, and brutally painful to tolerate for extended periods of time; they were a perfect reflection of the people that crafted them.