Early in the morning, Viggo rose with the sun, as he often did these days. This time he checked on not only his mother, but his injured guest. Both slept soundly and simply needed that rest more than anything, so he left them to it and, picking up his rod, made his way out back into the pasture.
It was generally his most peaceful moment of the day. Out in the open grassy fields and gently rolling hills, in the quiet and stillness of the morning, before earthly cares could call his name, he freely thought aloud, with no one to hear his ponderings but the gods. Well, and the goats. His own thoughts had not yet awoken as the baby goats pranced around him where he sat on a large rock in the mildly sloping hillside, and he breathed in the restorative gifts of solitude. This quiet time first thing in the morning always had a soothing effect on him, and helped to keep him grounded.
And Viggo needed that. His mother's health was steadily failing. She wasn't on her deathbed or anything quite like that, but she wasn't the strong woman her son once knew. She was 45 now, and by no means old, but the stress of her lifetime was catching up to her and she no longer possessed the vitality of youth to fight off the weakness that was overtaking her. The simple things of life had become difficult tasks. If it wasn't one thing, it was another to prevent her from functioning normally. She was becoming depressed as her condition was making her feel helpless, useless.
But Viggo didn't see her as useless, and he hoped to restore her vitality through remedies so she could see that, be herself again, and be happier. Hopefully happier than he remembered seeing her, because admittedly, his childhood did not carry the memories of a truly happy Epifany. It seemed she had disappeared before he was old enough to really remember her, but he held onto the vague memories of moments with his mama out in the sunshine, with long conversations, smiles, laughter, laundry, and giant fluffy white Carlyn, back when the world and everything in it looked so very big. He had grown taller than Carlyn in a few short years, and had outgrown his mother about ten years ago already, eventually passing up even his father - the man of the house - by a precious inch or two. Hapak tended to claim it didn't count and they were still about the same. Viggo smiled.
Over the years, tension had gradually built in the home - so gradually in fact, that he hadn't really thought about it until the middle of his teens, when he realized it shouldn't have been that way. By the time he was 19 and Drea left that summer night, home hadn't felt like a home should and he wasn't sure how long it had been that way. With his little sister gone, he thought about leaving himself, but not without his mother, who hoped her daughter would return home safe. A worrisome month went by with no word, until a letter came from Epifany's mother, Lowyn, saying Drea had come to stay with her by Battle Creek. Hapak left for Miras immediately to make his rebellious runaway see sense and bring her home, but by the time he reached Granna Lowyn's, Drea was gone, and he had to return without her.
The next several months were difficult for the crumbling remains of the Akylas family. Epifany worried about her daughter, as well as her mother's failing health. When a letter came from Granna Lowyn's friend Dittany explaining that Lowyn's health was drastically worsening, Epifany decided it was time to leave. She needed to take care of her mother. Hapak insisted that she shouldn't take that journey alone - especially in the winter - or live without a man to take care of her, and that he couldn't go, and therefore she shouldn't. Viggo agreed with the first part and volunteered to go with her, solving the proposed problem.
But before they left, a letter came from Drea, explaining that she was just fine, had been doing some traveling, and was in a country bordering southern Kharma at the time the letter was written. It also explained that she would be leaving soon (didn't say where to) and that it would be no use trying to chase after her. She also said that she needed some space and was finding her own way, whatever that meant.
Her family was left wondering how she was getting by, and without the option of writing to her, since they wouldn't know where to send a letter. But Epifany felt that Drea's letter was the sign she needed from the gods that she had made the right decision to leave her man instead of waiting and worrying at home for her prodigal teenage daughter to return. So she and Viggo left the Akylas home at the beginning of 193, in the dead of winter.
It was quite a surprise for them when Drea soon showed up to visit Granna and find out how her family was doing. It was equally surprising for Drea, who didn't expect to see her ma and brother there. The reunion was happy, if a little awkward, and Drea stayed for a couple months. But she was eager to be back out on her own. Less than a month after she left once again, Ajnin arrived for a visit, and was much disappointed to find that she had just been there and he had missed her.
The next year, Granna Lowyn breathed her last in the night. Viggo had become quite close to her, as his mother was, having spent a year in her home. So it was difficult for them both to cope with her loss. But now that she was gone, they did not return home. Granna's house on the hill had become their home, their peaceful refuge, and it was where they wanted to stay.
Drea continued to write every couple months or so, but her letters were vague as to what she was doing to get by. And she didn't always tell where she was so they could write back, because Viggo wouldn't promise not to tell their dad. He wasn't one to make promises because he didn't believe in it. His only commitment was to his conscience, to do what he felt was right in each situation that came up in life. And he didn't feel absolutely certain that under no circumstances ever would it be right to tell his dad her whereabouts, so he refused to promise. And Epifany didn't promise either, not knowing what the future would hold, even hoping Hapak would change, soften up, as she stood up.
But Hapak was a stubborn soul. He and his estranged woman wrote letters to each other in spite of their separation, often disagreeing. Viggo also wrote to his father for a little over a year after leaving him. But that ended when Hapak denied that Epifany's health was anything less than normal and accused her of complaining for manipulative purposes. Viggo felt that her prematurely failing health was not only very real, but that it was brought on by the way Hapak treated her. And having told him that and a few other strong and pointed rebukes, he had nothing left to say to his father, no longer trusting his sincerity.
He didn't hate his dad. He hadn't forgotten or blocked out every remotely good memory involving him. He didn't refuse to smile when those thoughts came to mind. But he had lost all respect for his father, and sometimes he did feel angry, partly because of all he had done wrong, but mainly because no matter how many days or weeks or months or even years went by, Hapak refused to acknowledge those wrongs for what they were. At best, he vaguely claimed he was sorry for some unspecified mistakes, made the excuse that he was "only lumen" and therefore imperfect, and continued to stay the same way.
"But Gadriel, I don't get it," Viggo continued thinking out loud, "why does he never mention the fact that Ma is only lumen? Why is it that everyone I've heard use that excuse, always hogs that excuse for themselves instead of sharing it? It's so frustrating how they act like their being a lumen means they're entitled to treat others like dirt. If they were honest, they'd quit pretending they're more lumen than us and admit it's called being more selfish."
Just as he finished expressing that very satisfying thought, Farlen, who had been lying nearby watching Viggo and the goats, got up and began to bark. It was the kind of bark that meant "Someone's at the house! Come on, let's go."
"Probably Tether," Viggo mumbled, using his staff to help him rise to his feet with an antisocial hint of dread. Then, smiling and rolling his eyes, he added, "Gods, have mercy on me. Sometimes I don't know what to do with her."
Farlen was far ahead of him as he made his way up to the house in long strides. Polaris nosily watched her master with grass in her mouth, and he watched her with a smile on his face. Before he reached the house, Tether spotted him and waved energetically, and he waved back. "I brought fresh bread!" she sang as they met and walked toward the door together. "I know it's far too predictable and common," she went on in her overwhelmingly speedy tone, "but I figured it'd be the most helpful gift anyway. I'd have gotten you some herbs if you weren't already so compulsive as to always have a bit of every kind on hand. It's probably better I don't support your habit--"
She stopped dead in her tracks when she stepped inside the door to see an unfamiliar girl sleeping on the couch. "Who's that?" she asked.
"I found her in the woods on my way home last night," Viggo answered. "She had fallen off her horse and hit her head pretty hard. I had to bring her back here on Polaris because her horse ran off. Must've been really spooked."
Tether quietly took her bread to the table and set it down. Viggo was surprised at how quiet she was. Then she spoke up, "I wonder where she was going through those woods?"
"I don't know," Viggo said. "Before she passed out, she said her name was Alethes... Alethes Brighten or something?"
"Afraid I've never heard of her," Tether said, "so she can't really be from around here. Does she have a mark?"
"No," answered Viggo.
"Then she isn't Miran, unless she's like you," she thought aloud. "And that isn't likely. She's probably our age." She thought for a moment. "Probably Arrian, since she was on the border," she concluded. "It's not like Mirans this side of the border are common. I don't know anyone other than your family who lives this side. And I'm only here when I visit you."
"Well," Viggo said, "I need to look for her horse. Hopefully it hasn't gone too far. It was of course south of here in the woods when I saw it, and it was running even further south. I'm going to take Polaris and search for it right now."
"I'll go with you!" Tether volunteered eagerly, making her way back to the door. "We'll let her dream," she nodded toward Alethes.
Viggo agreed, and the two left the house. As they rounded the front corner, he looked to the north pasture where he'd last seen Polaris grazing. He stopped in his tracks when he saw not one, but two horses, calmly enjoying the breakfast buffet like they were both at home. Tether looked up. "Is that her horse?" she asked.
Viggo said nothing, just stood still, puzzled.
"Well? Is it?"
"Um - yes? I mean yes," he stammered, "but I don't understand. It wasn't there. I just saw Polaris and it wasn't with her."
"Well it is now," Tether chuckled, "and how convenient for you, Viggo!"
"How is that possible?" he asked, flustered. "It wasn't there - and there's no place around where I wouldn't have noticed it - I don't - how--"
Tether laughed, "Well then there's only one explanation!"
He looked at her questioningly.
"You're dreaming," she whispered mysteriously, wiggling her fingers and waving her hands in a circular motion.
"Dreaming?" Viggo said absently, then smiled, "Oh, is that it? This whole thing is a dream? I imagine my entire life has been a dream. I wonder what reality is like, what's going on in the real world."
"You and me both," she laughed, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps one day we'll find out."