45th Summer, 506 A.V.
At seventeen, Hadrian, like many lads of his age, considered himself a man. At the same time, he would soon be traveling to Zeltiva to matriculate in the greatest institution of higher learning in the entire continent, and while he knew he could take care of himself for the most part, and that his father had a factor in town should there be an emergency, and that his father and brothers traveled to Zeltiva with some degree of frequency on business, the sudden closeness of reality had him nervous.
He had been leaning his hip against the well for a few minutes now, a golden nilo rolling around the edge under his palm. A nilo for Zeltiva. A nilo for luck. He wasn't sure he wanted to speak to a spirit who claimed to be the old empress of Alahea. Then again, that woman had the love of a god. Perhaps she still had the ear of the divine, particularly Kelwyn for luck, Priskil for hope, and Eyris for wisdom.
That was the hope, anyway. He had already packed and re-packed, and was partly here just so as not to be there. His father had promised to ride to Zeltiva with him, help him find a place to live -- no Aelius would deign to live in the dormitories like some common child -- and there had been a comfort in that, even though he and his father were no longer as close as they had been. But only today he had been informed, as if it were a mere detail, that his brother would instead fulfill that task.
It was parsed as a task rather than an opportunity to spend time together before Hadrian embarked upon manhood and true scholarship. He sighed, catching the nilo in his hand, and leaned forward on his elbows, peering down into the depths of the well as if there were answers. Then he caught the golden coin between two fingers, examining it as if there would be some evidence there whether he out to spend it on a wish or save it for food when he had to weather his first famine in Zeltiva.
At seventeen, Hadrian, like many lads of his age, considered himself a man. At the same time, he would soon be traveling to Zeltiva to matriculate in the greatest institution of higher learning in the entire continent, and while he knew he could take care of himself for the most part, and that his father had a factor in town should there be an emergency, and that his father and brothers traveled to Zeltiva with some degree of frequency on business, the sudden closeness of reality had him nervous.
He had been leaning his hip against the well for a few minutes now, a golden nilo rolling around the edge under his palm. A nilo for Zeltiva. A nilo for luck. He wasn't sure he wanted to speak to a spirit who claimed to be the old empress of Alahea. Then again, that woman had the love of a god. Perhaps she still had the ear of the divine, particularly Kelwyn for luck, Priskil for hope, and Eyris for wisdom.
That was the hope, anyway. He had already packed and re-packed, and was partly here just so as not to be there. His father had promised to ride to Zeltiva with him, help him find a place to live -- no Aelius would deign to live in the dormitories like some common child -- and there had been a comfort in that, even though he and his father were no longer as close as they had been. But only today he had been informed, as if it were a mere detail, that his brother would instead fulfill that task.
It was parsed as a task rather than an opportunity to spend time together before Hadrian embarked upon manhood and true scholarship. He sighed, catching the nilo in his hand, and leaned forward on his elbows, peering down into the depths of the well as if there were answers. Then he caught the golden coin between two fingers, examining it as if there would be some evidence there whether he out to spend it on a wish or save it for food when he had to weather his first famine in Zeltiva.
