The Book of Terrus: The Ghosts of Goran

Chapter 12 - Epiphany

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The tension in the Saurivic household had scarcely abated since the thunderous quarrel between Lord Jalborn, Jahaelis, and Rosarin three days ago. Jalborn had promptly left on a matter of family business for Amenthere, leaving Jatheryn and Awenis feeling rather unshielded from their unhappy parents. Tyene and Randir were wisely keeping to themselves in their wing of the estate, along with Myles and Taevrin. Rather than suffer the suffocating chill inside, Jatheryn did something rather out of character on the third morning, and went for a walk in the gardens.

It was still quite early, the rising sun just barely cresting the hedges that ringed the estate. Beyond, the sounds of Vaelona awakening were faint and sleepy. Birds sang cheerfully in the lilacs, their yellow and brown wings little spots of movement among the leaves. Jatheryn decided that it actually was quite nice outside at this hour. Perhaps he would make a habit of walking in the dawn.

Jatheryn's newfound peace was interrupted by an unexpected discovery around the next corner. Sitting on a hanging bench facing the little ornamental swan pond was his mother. Rosarin was alone, her white crochet shawl falling down around the shoulders of her pearly pink gown. Rosarin's long, fading blonde hair tumbled down loose and un-styled, hanging softly around her aged face. It was an unusual way to see Rosarin for Jatheryn; he was so used to his mother being poised and formal at all times.

"Hello Jatheryn."

Rosarin put her bare feet down on the dewy grass to stop the slow swinging of the bench. Her shoes sat a short ways away, discarded. The usual harshness of his mother's voice was softened by the outdoors.

"Hello Mother."

Rosarin slid down on the bench, making room for two.

"Come, sit."

Jatheryn hesitated briefly before obeying. Posture as stiff and unyielding as ever, he sat like a child's doll bent to fit into its chair.

Rosarin did not speak at first. Instead, she pushed off from the ground a little, causing the bench to swing from its tree branch once more. A pair of swans glided into view from around a cluster of cattails on the pond. They touched their graceful necks together before breaking apart to make room for the wedge of cygnets that followed. The newly hatched swans were small and fuzzy looking, their grey downy feathers rather mismatched with the beauty of their parents. The avian family all seemed content enough with one another though, as they circled the pond.

"You see that?" Rosarin pointed at the swans.

"Yes, but why do you ask?"

"That is all we want for you, Jatheryn. You're lonely; anyone with eyes can see it. Do you believe me when I tell you that your father and I really do want you to be happy?"

Jatheryn watched the pair of swans guide their brood through the shallows and up onto the grassy banks of the pond. The cygnets shook the water from their down, making them look like little balls of grey fuzz. One of the swans stretched back to nudge the last baby out of the water after its brothers and sisters. Its mate waited patiently until everyone was ready before leading the way into the shade of a willow tree.

"I want that too, Mother. I just..." Jatheryn fell silent.

Rosarin eyed him from the side. Her skin may have been withered and dry, but her gaze was as keen and clear as any woman of forty years.

"You just didn't ask to be as you are." She sighed. Ruefully, she rubbed at the back of her knuckles, causing little white flakes to float up. "Neither did I. Your father, well, perhaps he loved us just a little bit too much."