The God's Game

Hair

"Do you know where we are sailing to?"

Wolfram gazed out the hatch window as he sipped on his second cup of wine.

"No clue." River carefully peeled an orange. "We should ask Lord Aithan."

Wolfram jumped an eyebrow. "Aithan Alistair? The Whistler?"

River nodded and bit into the sweet, sour flesh of the citrus. "Do you know him?"

"He is the sign on every missive from Southern Azure Fort." Wolfram laughed, "Ive heard a lot about him. I can't wait to finally put a face on the name."

River's tilted his head quizzingly. "You've never met him?""

Wolfram daintily shook his head. "He had been to Calamis a couple times for official visits, even before Seagull ascended the throne. But Ive always been away."

"Whiowolf?" River guessed.

"I spent most of my days there, practicing medicine with Einar's father's side of the family.".

"I thought it was a power of yours."

Wolfram snatched a berry from River's hands and shoved it in his mouth. "Breaking bones is easy. Putting broken bones together is much,much harder."

He grinned way too brightly for someone who is discussing fractured bones. "Think of it like this. I'm a dagger who worked diligently to become a scalpel."

"Your nobility had moved me to tears." River wiped an imaginary drop of tears off his cheek, earning a sound slap to his head from Wolfram.

"Aithan Alistair is indeed a capable man. He single-handedly managed all affairs of the South in the years leading up to Adler Alistair's demise."

Wolfram poured himself another cup of wine and continued, "We all had high expectations for him as the next Southern ruler."

He sighed deeply, his face falling theatrically. "Then a certain seagull crashed the Southern Ring Battle."

"I heard Lord Aithan didn't take part in it," River pointed out.

"Thats right," Wolfram nodded, tracing the rim of the porcelain cup with his finger, making it hum. "I don't know why, though."

He took another long sip from the cup. "I can't even imagine how Seagull would rule the South if Lord Aithan quit his minimum-wage babysitting job."

River furrowed his brow, feeling irked for some reason. "I think he will manage."

Wolfram cackled, almost choking on his wine. "Please! He is as useful as a chocolate teapot when it comes to governing. And about as sharp as a marble."

River opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

He rose from his seat and opened it to find the towering, majestic figure of Aithan Alistair standing there with a folded fan in hand.

An earsplitting crash made River's skeleton jump out of his skin. He turned around to see Wolfram's wine pitcher now shattered to pieces on the floor. Dark red wine flowed like a river along the wooden floor boards.

Wolfram had shot up from his chair. His eyes were ballooned to the size of saucers, and his mouth hung open in a wide 'o'.

River had never seen such a myriad of emotions flash across someone's face before. The man paled, then his brows furrowed. He scrutinized the giant man with narrowed eyes from head to toe a few times before his gray orbs went wide again. He then blushed to the point that his face looked like it might bleed.