Evan squirmed in his seat.
A few minutes had passed since his dad called him up to his office - Evan had been given some time to change into non-soaked clothing. The old man sat right across from him, at the other side of the desk, sorting through maps and notes.
He had a solid foot over his son in height, and a good bit of muscle on him, too. Since he had been told of Evan's misadventure as soon as he had arrived home, he still had on the fancy blue robes any official of the Emperor's court wore. Once upon a time his cropped-short hair had been the same sandy shade as Evan's, but it had long gone gray. Several thin scars ran across his face - two on his right cheek, another on his temple, and a final one on his forehead, close to his eyebrow. To him they were medals, marks of pride earned from a lifetime fighting in Valoria's name.
The man was the definition of intimidating. It was no wonder that he commanded so much power whenever he entered a room.
Silence filled the office, broken every now and then by the rustle of a sheet of paper or the sound of a stamp being brought down on one. For Evan, it was unbearable.
"So..." out of his father's sight, Evan was wringing his hands together anxiously.
The man's sunken gray eyes flicked to the teen, barely visible under the shine of his glasses. "So?"
"Aren't you gonna yell at me?"
Something unexpected happened: his dad laughed. Reaching to his face, he pulled off his glasses and placed them down.
"What, do you want me to?"
Taken aback, Evan jolted up for a second - then slumped back in his seat.
"I just... I just want to know what you're gonna do to me."
The old man pushed aside the papers on his desk, folded his arms on it, then leaned forward. His pupils seemed to burn into Evan's as their eyes locked.
"Well, let's see here... you made an embarrassment of yourself, you tarnished the family name - what you did's gonna be all over the papers tomorrow, if you didn't know - oh, and you got water all over your mother's favorite couch. It's probably gonna leave a stain."
Every word made Evan shrink back a little more.
"So, what do you think I should do to you, Evan?"
"Uh..." the teen tried to raise his voice over a low squeak, but found it about as difficult as breathing underwater. His heart was pounding, but not in a good way. It was like he had just ran a mile.
"Ground me... for... a week?"
His dad raised an eyebrow.
"T-two weeks?"
With a sigh, the old man shook his head. He reached for his glasses and began to wipe them off with the corner of his sleeve.
"Evan, you... I don't even know what to say." he stared at his glasses, at the maps, at anywhere but his son. "You're not leaving this house for the rest of the summer. And come fall, I'm sending you off to Uncle Lot's."
Now, the first part of his punishment hit Evan hard. But the second was like a sledgehammer.
"Uncle, Uncle Lot? The farmer?" he could barely form sentences. "Why him?"
"You'll be working in his fields." his dad explained. "I've already written him a letter telling him you will."
Evan snapped. "I can't go! What about, what about school?"
"I've written the academy a letter too." while Evan had lost his composure, his father remained as sturdy as a mountain. "I figured you'd be happy about getting a few semesters off."
A few... a few semesters?
His jaw dropped.
"Wait, how long am I gonna be there?" he asked.
The general shrugged. "Til' you build some character."
Evan stomped through the hallway. His dad had just dismissed him from his office, and now he was headed to his bedroom. He would be there... well, for the rest of the summer, he supposed.
Before Evan left, the old man had mentioned something about hiring a person from the church to give him etiquette lessons. Apparently it was his mother's idea... only the best from her. Just another thing to look forward to, in addition to being shipped off to pick turnips for his weird uncle in a month or two.
He thought he'd be spending his summer with his friends. He thought he'd be having fun. And even if things didn't work out, he at least thought he'd be going back to the academy to work towards joining the military. But no. No he wasn't.
And it was all his fault.
As he trudged up a staircase - his room was on the third floor - one of the Thames house's many servants caught up to the young man. The staff usually avoided talking with the family, but this case was different. It was Pieter, the same butler who had given Evan a towel earlier that day. Out of all the servants in the Thames's employ, he was the one Evan was closest with.
"Evan, don't be angry about this..."
"Oh, what, just... how?! How am I supposed to not be angry about this?!"
Evan didn't even bother to look at the old man. Reaching the top of the staircase, he sped up as he rounded a corner. He didn't feel like talking with anyone right now... he just wanted to beat something up. Pieter shifted to a jog to keep up with him.
"Your father just wants what's best for you, you know that."
"Just shut up, okay?" reaching his door, Evan tore it open. Pieter stopped behind him.
"Y-your grandfather sent you something."
Evan stopped too.
"Gramps?" he turned around.
Pieter had a parcel in his hands, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. It had a letter attached to it, which Evan could make out some words on: "To Evan Thames."
"There was a note included." Pieter handed the package over to Evan. "Read the letter first."
Evan pulled out the envelope, but paused to shake the package a bit. He could feel and hear what was inside... it slid around under the paper, making a distinctive metallic jingle as it did. Some sort of chain? Whatever it was, it didn't weigh that much.
He turned his attention to the letter, which he ripped open. The paper inside was wrinkled, sepia-tone like a photograph - parchment, that's what it was called. It was written in black ink, and clearly by his grandfather's hand.
Dear Grandson,
I've missed you! Apologies for not writing more, I just haven't been able to find the time.
This letter will be brief. I've found something, and I want you to keep it safe for me. For the time being, keep it somewhere in your room, or in the house, anywhere will do. I will need you to bring it to someone soon, but I don't know where they're currently staying. I'll write you another letter when I find that out.
DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE.
See you soon! (Hopefully)
This letter... this letter was the first he had heard from his grandfather since he had left on an airship to the Republic. Two years of silence had just been broken.
Growing up, Evan's father had always been too busy with his military work to spend any time with his son. Instead, Evan had Grandpa Ryner, or as he preferred to be called, Gramps. The man was ancient, but always seemed to be in good shape, especially for a veteran of the Orc Wars. Most of his military buddies that Evan had met were missing at least a couple fingers.
Even as he had gotten older, even when his dad had made the old man move out, Evan had stayed close with Gramps. His dad liked to think it was he who inspired his son to join the academy, but in reality, it was his grandfather's stories. Evan could listen to them for hours and not get bored. They were tales of the battlefield, of traveling the world, of adventuring to new and strange places - they gripped him more than any book could.
Their connection had only stopped when Gramps boarded that airship. He barely told Evan a thing about why he was headed to the Republic... something about an expedition, whatever. And now, he had sent him this cryptic letter, and a package he couldn't even open.
Evan didn't know whether to feel mad or not.
"What's it say?" Pieter asked. The teen folded up the parchment into a tiny rectangle, then shoved it in his pocket.
"Nothing." he said.
