A Strife between Worlds

Secrets

Zon was eighteen yet felt like he was twelve, he had an amusing regard for life and he believed that this had helped him survive the long and frightful days of his childhood. Besides, making jokes and jests let him almost forget his past. Almost.

 Yesterday he had visited Lord Sharin's neighbouring state; he had been sent to deliver a letter, which would have been interesting if he knew how to read. He had not been lying when he had told Jave of Lord Sharin's enormous estate, even the slaves there had seemed quite well provided, it had been shocking... 

'Get to work, Fasen is almost at an end and you worthless brats still have not completed the harvest!' came the order from the voicer. 

The fields were in complete view of the overseer back at Lord Fizan's Palace. The overseer was not entirely wrong, Fasen (The month of harvest) had nearly passed. The months changed the mood of life, soon Ewlk would arrive, the month of religion, and all the Sorlian lords would celebrate the Juveerist sacrifice to be held in Sorle. Jave would want to perform his religious rites; Jave had converted to Hotad long before, Zon however did not share his faith.

He started the work but his mind wandered to Jave. About a year older than he, Jave had taken care of him for as far as he could remember. He was, not unlike himself, wary of sharing his past and Zon had found him many times gazing at the horizon to someplace far away. Jave had assumed the responsibility of an older brother while he lived the carefree life of the younger one. Well, as carefree as one could be when he was a slave. Zon had once theorised, jokingly, that Jave was a Sorlian in disguise, sent to spy upon them. Jave had been quite displeased by that, it had been one of Zon's less humorous jests. He saw Jave now, a few metres away and made his way over to him. 

'Akhawant, Da sur', (Hello, My companion) said Jave as he greeted him. 

It felt unlawful to hear the words of old Arantian but he knew what it meant. The language was not as dead as Groven had hoped and many older slaves used it still, but the texts of knowledge and literature had been burnt when the Grovenian forces had laid waste to the city of Nai, the place where he had been born...and almost died, said a voice within him. Zon shuddered, he would not let such disturbing thoughts obscure his mind and ruin his day.

 'Why d'you seem dazed today?' Zon asked him, 'Has something happened?'

Jave looked at him with a look that reminded Zon of his father. 

'It's nothing', he replied. A lie, Zon could sense it, he had enough of his own to know. 

Zon meant to find out the truth, he hoped Jave had not realised the secrets he kept from him.