THE APPLE OF SNAKES

lxvii. event horizon

As Nerluce had predicted, it took an unbearably long amount of time to return home. 

For nearly seven weeks Nerluce, Coam, and the disciples of the Hebikoti Clan traveled back home. They stopped at the estate of every important aristocrat, merchant, magickian, or scholar in Itoroh on their way back. And then they were delayed another week by road blockage due to the snow. 

Nerluce was beyond annoyed when they finally made it back to the Hebikoti Palace. He was sick of traveling. He was sick of formalities and visiting with people whose names he didn't know. He was sick of bowing and of playing the responsible son. He was sick of everything. 

Yet even when he was home, he had to use all the formalities he'd used abroad. He had to dine with people whose names he did not know but who wished to celebrate his return. He still had to bow to everyone. He still had to be the responsible and noble son of Lord Father so he wouldn't be an embarrassment. So he would be treated like he had been before. It was exhausting and frustrating and Nerluce was sick of it!

He locked himself in his room that night.

After sleeping in until an embarrassingly late hour, missing both breakfast and lunch in the process, Nerluce half-heartedly dressed and went to the kitchens. They were empty as they usually were between meals. Nerluce made himself some tea and took it back to his room where he drank it while watching the snowfall. 

No servants disturbed him, no nobles tried to gain his favor. Nerluce was alone and he had never been more grateful for it. In his room, no one could expect anything from him. He could wear his plainest or most extravagant robes. He could make his own tea or have ten servants prepare him a banquet. Nerluce would not be judged either way. He was free to do as he pleased and he would, even if he had to live in his room forever.

Nerluce's finger traced the rim of his cup. The pad grew damp with the condensation. The wind changed directions - carrying the snow with it - as an air spirit danced by. 

This wasn't a bad life. Perhaps a little dull, but even the best lives could get dull at times. Even the heroes of Nerluce's greatest stories still had moments of dullness. They still slept. Ate. Went to the bathroom. Perhaps even drank tea and watched the snow. Nerluce wondered why all the stories cut those parts out. Nerluce wished there were more stories about dull, little things.

He decided to make up a new story about all the dull, little things. He made himself the protagonist. He told himself about a day where he cooked his own breakfast. He told himself about a day where he fell asleep in the stables and had to spend an hour picking the hay from his hair. He told himself about a day when he sat in the garden and tried to count all the petals on the daylilies and then tried to count all the stars on the night sky.

Perhaps he'd make all of these stories into reality. Perhaps he'd live his life full of dull, little things. And he would be happy for each of these dull, little moments. He would be grateful. He would love them. He would not waste away.

Not as his mother had.

There was a knock on Nerluce's door.

"Leave me be," Nerluce said, glaring at the door. "I do not feel well and wish to rest for at least one day." Lest the court drive him into insanity too. "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

Coam opened the door. In her hand was a bundle of letters, tied by a string. "Just me."

"Oh," Nerluce said. 

Coam came and sat down next to Nerluce, looking out the window. "Sorry. I wanted to leave you alone today but I'm heading back to the border tomorrow." She offered him a small smile. "I'm leaving Eden to your care."