Mira looked at Neva for a while before she finally answered in a gentle, but determined, voice:
"You very well know it's not my decision.You can't have it until you are twelve years old."
Neva bowed her head slightly, her face expressing an un-concealed discontent:
"But…won't you tell me at least some hint about it? Anything… its power, its form, even how it looks…"
But instead of her mother's response, she heard still another sound cutting through the din of celebration surrounding them. Fireworks were bursting in the air, their hues mirroring themselves on the faces of the singing, dancing throng in the square, and yet, cutting through their din was one distinct word:
"Thief."
Neva paused for an instant, then responded in surprise:
"Thief?What sort of name is that?!"
Mira lifted her face up to the sky, gazed for a moment at the fireworks as if breaking free from her daughter's gaze, then grumbled:
"At least you received an emanant .If you go on like this… you'll get nothing. And you'll turn out just like me."
She said no more, but moved in silent footsteps in the direction of the carriage.
Neva cried,
running after her:
"Wait for me,Mother!"
The carriage was at the corner of the square, harnessed by two white horses, shining from care and washing. The carriage body was black, and on its sides were gold etchings of a woman clasping an open book, with eyes streaming with what appeared to be tears or blood, not to be told due to the sparkle of the gold.
When they reached the palace, the duo separated in silence. Mira went to her wing without turning back, and Neva went to her room. The moment she tossed herself onto the bed, her mind started to battle in her head. She could not help but think about her Manifestation.
"I wanna know how you appear…what do you look like? Why can't I see you now? I don't wanna wait no more…."
That night lasted forever, but the morning of the next day did not come with anything. Everything in the palace was normal. There were sounds of workers outside, brooming the courtyard and pruning the trees, and the maids went from room to room carrying utensils or garments. The palace was a big machine, and everybody had their position and knew what they needed to do… everybody but one.
Upstairs, Elios was walking back and forth in his room, repeating sentences from a speech he was not pleased with:
"Dear people…today I am not crowned alone, but you are crowned with me… No, that's too much…"
His tone was strained, his movements nervous. His face did not look like that of a fifteen-year-old boy. Dark circles under his eyes told the tale of sleepless nights that were long, and his half-closed eyes were weary of reading messages that lacked genuineness. His black hair was disheveled, unkempt by a comb for days, and a fine stubble across his chin only served to enhance his weary look.
He wiped the sweat from his neck, grabbed a bottle of water from the table, and drank long. He sat on the bed's edge breathing slowly, then cursed in frustration:
"Damn these advisors…Is it so difficult for them to prepare a speech that will at least sound spontaneous?"
He flung himself back onto the bed, gazed at the ceiling for some time, then leaped up and strode over to the balcony. He slid open the glass door and stepped out, the chill wind whipping his face. The city seemed so small from his lofty position in the palace. Humans scurried around like dispersed dots in the streets. He sat for a while on the stone railing, looking and saying to himself:
"Am I really…going to rule all these people? And the other five kingdoms as well?"
He moved slowly back indoors, took the paper left by the advisors on the table, read again in a low voice:
"Today, I am not crowned alone, but you are crowned with me. This crown set upon my head does not denote personal power, but a great trust and a responsibility weightier than gold and jewels. I have inherited a past built by the blood of ancestors, and I bear a tomorrow to be inscribed by descendants' hands…
He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing briefly in derision:
"Liars…aren't my words. Don't even look like me."
He gazed at the paper for a long time, then slowly tore it into little pieces, and tossed them out of the window, dispersing them in the air. He stood before the table once more, put his hands on it firmly, and said in a determined voice this time:
"I will write my speech myself."
Elios was sitting at his desk, laboriously drawing the letters and words before him. He was so engrossed in what he was writing that he did not hear Neva calling out to him from behind.
"Hey, you obsessed king, I am talking to you here!"
Elios raised his head slowly, looked at her with eyes full of fatigue, then immediately resumed writing as though she was not there. He did not take an interest, nor did he accelerate or decelerate his pen, as though he were wrapped in his own world.
Neva was not accustomed to being disregarded by anyone, so a daring thought crossed her mind. She took the paper Elios was writing on and tossed it out the window.
"What are you doing, you fool!" cried out Elios, his voice shaking a little as sweat gushed down his neck and forehead.
But Neva showed no pity; she fetched a small towel to wipe his face and brush away the sweat.
"Look at your face… you're so tired, and your coronation hasn't even occurred."
Elios held out his hand to receive the towel, wiped his face with it, and sighed:
"I just need a little sleep."
Neva, not waiting for his response, grabbed his hand and dragged him along behind her, playfully but firmly:
"Come on,let's go out and play."
Elios shuddered a little, attempting to draw back, saying in a feeble voice:
"I really can't…I have too many things to do."
Neva smiled a small, challenging smile, and gripped his arm more tightly, saying:
"To hell with your advisors.If they need you, let them look for you. Now, come on."
Elios followed Neva and did not grumble because he knew that she just wanted to help him, or maybe he just needed to see the world from the eyes of his child, at least for a little while. Nothing else was important to him but forgetting about being a ruler and just being a regular kid for a few minutes.
They walked out into the palace garden, which was very lovely, filled with every sort of tree and every variety of rose, and winding stone pathways. But Neva saw none of these; she was intent upon her own quest. She grabbed up eagerly two wooden swords, her eyes gleaming with action and movement.
Elios trailed behind her, seeing what she was up to, but for the first time in days, he was at ease. There were no advisers observing him, no official documents spread on the table before him. There was just him and Neva, and time they could share together beyond the bounds of duty, brief as it would be.
"Take this, duel me!"
Elios got the sword and proceeded to the training ground.
They stood opposite each other in the center of the arena, both of them having the wooden sword in his hand. Elios's feet were shoulder-width apart, front foot facing his partner, back straight, knees slightly bent. His wooden sword was set before his chest at a slight angle, blade upwards, his fists clutched around the hilt as though he did not wish to overbalance for a single instant. His eyes were fixed on Neva, his entire body poised for any abrupt motion, though he had not yet intended to make one, but in spite of all this, he appeared quite fatigued.
Then he suddenly laughed: "Your stance is wrong."
Neva, on the other hand, was completely different. Her feet were not balanced, one in front of the other irregularly, knees slanted, torso leaning slightly to the right. Her wooden sword was in her right hand, leaning slightly towards the ground, but she didn't seem unprepared.
She said in a sarcastic tone: "Who said that, your advisors? Or is it your swordmaster?"
Elios let out a sigh as though he was tired of speaking: "Alright, on three we go together."
They counted in unison.
"One"
"Two"
"Thre…"
However, Neva lunged at Elios, swinging her sword from underneath in a bid to strike his chin, but the attack wasn't very sophisticated and Elios's response came quicker as he stepped back quickly.
"What are you doing? We said we'd count to three!"
"I didn't say I agreed."
Neva struck again, but this time the strike was to the heart. Elios deflected it with his sword and kicked Neva with his foot, and she dropped to the ground.
He pounced to her, and before he could lift the sword over her head in triumph, Neva scrambled away fast.
Neva was only ten years old, after all, so she was beginning to tire.
Elios gazed at her as he dusted the sand off his hair, then answered sarcastically: "Tired already?"
Neva, who was adjusting her position so that she would not get tired, responded while gasping for breath: "I will not get tired from a weakling like you."
Then she glanced behind Elios briefly, as if she had seen something or someone she had known for years, yet she was not glad he was there but more like surprised that he was there.
"dad. what are you doing here?"
Elios turned to see his father, but when he turned, he did not see what he had wished to see. There was nobody.
"she tricked me!"
He spun around, slashing his sword towards Neva's head. It was a risky action, but he did not mind since, after all, Neva initiated the tricks.
Neva, whose face was directly in front of Elios as she rushed to attack him, even before performing the trick knew that her brother was among the finest swordsmen in the palace and hence such a trick won't work.
She slowed down and tilted her head directly downwards before the sword could strike her head, and the sword swept above her.
"I hate your such quick reflexes."
She let go of her sword, scooped up sand in her palm, and threw it into Elios's eyes.
Elios stumbled backward screaming in agony: "Aah… I… I'm blind." Then he fell and tried to grope around for the sword he had lost.
Neva swiftly, and before the sand's effect faded, drew her sword and kneeled beside Elios, who was on the ground, and placed the sword against his head.
"It's a good thing he's so exhausted today and not in the mood to kill me, or I would have been on the ground within a minute."
When Elios rubbed his eyes, he found Neva in her stance with a triumphant smile.
"It seems your swordmaster didn't teach you this, did he?"