A Children’s Story: Scene 2, Part 2
Read from the beginning over at www.jegilman.com
“If you were thrown out by your own father, I assume you weren’t much like me then?” Bertram prodded, fascinated that his stoic father could have ever done anything warranting the dismissal by the king.
“No, I suppose between the two of you, Blasa has more of my spirit, even if she looks exactly like your mother. You, on the other hand, remind me of my younger brother, Gernot. He was very gifted and very cunning, certainly a lot smarter than me. He was also on the quiet side, although maybe he only seemed the way because I would never stop talking. He also turned out to not be a Mage, which I think was the only thing that truly upset him. Everything else he was able to practice, study, and master, but when it came to magic, he was the outsider of the family.”
“I can understand that feeling,” Bertram admitted, evaluating his own life with that of his uncle Gernot. He was thankful he was older than Blasa, so that he could at least hold on to being eldest. Blasa never teased Bertram about not being a Mage though, but Bertram wondered if that would change as she got older.
“Did you have any other siblings?” Bertram asked as they reached the third lantern, signifying that they were no longer underneath the lake.
“No, it was just the two of us. It wasn’t like you and Blasa though. There were always people around, more names and faces than I could ever learn. A lot more than just the families living in South Ridge. Time has helped me forget most of the ones I knew too, and I’m not complaining. I remember Hermann though, he was the son of your grandfather’s best friend and by default was the best friend of me and Gernot. Surprisingly, he was one of the few people who ever got along with me and Gernot all the time. I truly did miss his presence that first year on my own. Him and my Mage tutor, Sigmund.”
“You had someone else teach you about your magic other than your parents?” Bertram asked.
“Yes, it’s actually quite common in the city. King Ulrich was of course too busy to tend to the schooling of his children, so he hired a special tutor that had studied at the legendary school of Hewytt. Sigmund is a peculiar fellow. He’s always dressed in a simple, all black robe, and is perhaps the only person who has never treated me differently simply for being the heir to the throne. He had quite the uphill battle in teaching me about humility by the time my father hired him, though, but his lessons have certainly sunk in now that I’ve had time to realize I am just another man, no more important than the next.”