There had been a sign that night, for those who knew what they were looking for.

With the legend of The Tiger’s Revenge still fresh in their minds, creatures of magic were still looking within their realms for the next great being to either fall or rise. All eyes were turned toward Tharôn, where the gods had ruled with unshakable might until the Emperor slew them one at a time.

Was there yet another god to fall? Who; for all the great gods had had their blood spilt by the Emperor’s chosen.

There had been a sign that night, for those who knew what such things meant.

With the legend of The Tiger’s Revenge ringing true in their ears, sorcerers who still studied the ancient prophecies chose to keep silent about what their future held in store for them.

A great future, or a terrible future full of death and loss. Rather than try to influence the source of the greatest magic on Eggak since the loss of the gods, creatures of magic far and wide chose to ignore the Source in favor of letting it live a normal life, hoping that nothing would turn the source into a vile person and it will become all they hoped for.

There had been a sign that night.

Tylun had decided with the rising of Eggak’s sister planet that he would buy six ships and set them to sail the Mid Isles and expand his business as wide as the archipelago. He signed the papers and hired hundreds of men to see to the sailing and caring of his ships. As he sat at his desk, quill swiftly moving across the parchment, he had no fears for the future nor for events of magic.

His young son, named after himself, quietly knocked on his door and waited with wide eyes and pale skin at the threshold of the open door. Tylun looked up and a smile graced his strong, fine features as he laid eyes on his pride and joy. His future.

“What is it, son?”

“Mother’s gone into labor.”

As soon as he finished, his little sister inched to his side, her hand slipping into his.

Leaning back into his chair, Tylun folded his fingers over his chest. “Has she now? It is about time. The midwife said she was due nearly two weeks ago.” He frowned as the danger of the situation reached him once again. He could loose his wife this night.

Shaking his head at the idea, Tylun motioned for his children to enter and sit before him. “There’s nothing we can do for her now, save pray to the gods for their goodwill.”

Myra, black haired and green eyed just like him and his son, perched on the edge of the chair of her choice and watched him through eyes as wide as his son’s. “Is mum going to be all right? What’s happening to her?”

Tylun smiled gently. “Your sibling is joining us in this world.” He paused as he realized that he couldn’t just tell the little girl that he didn’t know if her mother would live through the night. He ran a hand through his short hair and reflected once again that he wasn’t any good with children. Save for his son.

Turning his eyes to the boy, he felt the smile return as he saw how the boy was sitting in the chair with his back straight and shoulders squared and feet firmly on the ground. His lips were tight and his eyes were still wide, but that was all that betrayed his fear for his mother. Tylun was proud of him.

Suddenly a maid rushed by the open door, dragging their gazes as she disappeared down the hall in an all out run. Suddenly concerned, Tylun stood and walked around his desk. He held his hand up to the children as they too stood.

“Wait here.” Without checking to see if they obeyed, he left the study and slowly made his way up the stairs, then down the hall to his wife’s suite of rooms. Several more maids were waiting outside the doors and scattered once they caught sight of him approaching.

The door was opened a crack and Tylun entered the sitting chamber where two maids were heating water in the fireplace that had rarely held a fire in this tropical weather. The did twin curtsies and lowered their eyes to their tasks as he passed them to his wife’s bedchamber.

The room was hot and dark. He could just hear his wife’s heavy breathing and the low murmurs of the midwife as she encouraged her in her birthing. He stepped up to the bed which had been stripped bare and caught the sharp gaze of the midwife.

“She needs more strength. The babe has tired her.”

Tylun held out his hands. “I’ve no way to give her more.”

“Sit with her.”

Eyeing the blood on the bed and the sweat soaking her brow, Tylun pulled his coat from his shoulders and gingerly sat at her back, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. At the midwife’s commands, he joined her in murmuring encouragements.

At the first light f dawn, his second son’s lustful cries filled the room and his wife bundled him to her breast. In awe, she touched a finger to his head of thick hair so black the light made it glow purple in spots.

“He’s beautiful, husband.”

Nodding, Tylun held one finger to the tiny fist. “That he is. He’ll make a fine addition to our family. We’ll name him after my great uncle, who save our people from destruction all those years ago.” Nodding to himself he continued, “He’ll be a fine man which people will look up to for leadership, just as his brother is quickly becoming. Tyflyn.”

“Tyflyn Nolyn,” Spring said, tracing her finger around his round face and smiling up at her husband. “He’s perfect.”

“I’m quickly loosing my patience with him,” Tylun said, his eyes sparking anger at his wife as she wrung her hands before his desk. Spring bit her lip as she held back what she wanted to say, but feared his anger. Finally, she nodded her head and her shoulders slumped. Tylun nodded his head once in approval of her choice and stood. “He’s so far behind the other children his age, he had become the laughing stock of the island. He’ll single-handily be the ruin of our name.”

He walked around the desk, intent on finding Tyflyn and beating his will into the boy. He could hear the soft clicks of his wife’s sandals as she near ran to keep up with his wide strides.

On the third floor of their vast home, he found his second son sitting on the floor, piling multi colored blocks into a tower. When he heard his father entering, Tyflyn looked up with eyes set in a face that was the mirror image of his father and older brother. Then his eyes went to his mother and a smile turned his lips. He held his hands out to her and flexed his fingers wide in his desire to be picked up.

Tylun frowned. “Do not pick him up.” Spring paused at his side, her eyes going wide.

“Husband.”

“No. If he wants you to pick him up, he will have to ask for it.” He turned cold green eyes, the color of sea foam to his son. “Do you understand, nitwit? You’ll have to speak.”

Tyflyn dropped his arms and a crease folded the skin between his brows as his eyes moved from one parent to the other. His bottom lip trembled and he began picking at the rug he sat upon.

Tylun’s frown deepened and he hissed between his teeth. “Boy, you have ruined everything since your birth. Do something right in your life and speak.”

Cowing back at his father’s raised voice, Tyflyn’s eyes filled with tears and he once again reached out to his mother. Spring held out her hand to him, but Tylun smacked it away, bringing a sharp cry of pain from Spring.

“You will not encourage him any more. He’ll learn to live without the things he wants until he asks for them.”

“Tylun, please. He’s still but a child.”

“He is old enough to speak.” Tylun reached out and grabbed her forearm in a vice-like grip. “You will no longer coddle him.” Pulling her sharply, Tylun pressed her out of the room amid her mews of pain as her arm was twisted.

“L-l-leave her b-b-be!”

It seemed as if the whole room was frozen as the thin voice faded. Outside the window, a bird chirped on a branch, and the wind rustled the leaves. Inside, Tylun turned wide eyes to his son, now standing and red faced with embarrassment, fear and anger.

“What did you say?”

Beside him, Spring covered her gasp with her hand, fear and panic in her own eyes.

Tyflyn wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “L-l-leave her b-b-be. D-d-don’t hurt her.”

Tylun dropped her arm and turned to fully face the boy. “What have the gods cursed me with?”

Tyflyn flinched at the words and lowered his head so that his hair fell over his face, hiding him from his father’s harsh gaze. Tylun stepped closer and gathered the black mass of hair and tilted Tyflyn’s face up. The boy clenched his eyes closed tightly, but then snapped them open as he would rather face his father than leave it all up to his imagination.

“Speak again.”

Tyflyn bit his lip, his eyes shooting to his mother as she slowly slipped to the floor amid a cloud of silk and sweet scented perfume. Beyond his mother, he could see his three siblings peaking around the doorframe. His little sister wide eyed and tugging at her braid handing over her shoulder, in the arms of his older brother, Tylun.

He twisted his lips closed. His father’s hands settled on his shoulders and he bought their faces close together, rage making his eyes cold and clear. “Do not disobey me, child.”

Tyflyn shook his head, tears falling from his eyes. Tylun suddenly shook him until the boy’s head snapped on his neck and he cried out in pain. “S-s-stop.” His small hands shot out and caught his father’s hands, trying in vain to pull free of the harsh grip.

Then Tylun threw him from him. Tyflyn fell to the floor and he remained there, one hand holding his shoulder as he tried to silence his sobs.

“You are broken.” He turned his eyes to Spring who was frozen. “He is broken. He’ll never be a man of the tribe.” He twisted his lips in a snarl and stared down at the boy. “He’s a failure and a disgrace to our family. He’ll ruin Tylun’s future, bring down his name.” He reached out and caught Tyflyn’s chin. “You’re never to speak again until you can speak like a human. Until then, you’re nothing to me.” He was over come with rage once again and he pushed Tyflyn to the ground and stormed out of the room.

Spring flinched as he passed her and the other three children quickly disappeared from his sight. Tyflyn sniffled and turned to his mother, reaching out to her. “M-m-mum.”

Spring flinched once again. She shook her head. “He’s right. You mustn’t speak.” She quickly gathered her skirts and fled after her husband, leaving Tyflyn with renewed sobs and a hole in his heart.

He buried his face in his hands and allowed his sobs to carry out through the room. Then he felt a hand on his head. He jerked away from the touched and peered up through his hair at his older sister, Myra.

Her eyes were kind and a smile softly turned her lips up at the corners. “It’s all right, Tyflyn. When we’re alone, you can speak with me anytime you want. I’m not afraid of you.”

His lip trembled, then they both jumped as they heard their father yelling once more, comparing Tyflyn to Tylun once more and finding the younger wanting. More tears filled Tyflyn’s eyes and Myra pulled him into her arms, murmuring soft words and stroking his back.

“Tyflyn.”

Stiffening, Tyflyn pulled away and turned to see Tylun, his near image, standing in the doorway. He held up a trey of sweets stolen from the kitchen and tugged their littlest sister along behind him. He sat on the floor with them and dulled out the sweets. He shook his hair out of his eyes and smiled at Tyflyn. “No matter what Dads says, we’re still family, right?”

“Right,” Myra chimed in licking powdered sugar from her lips. She eyed Tyflyn until he reluctantly nodded as well.

“Dads’ mean, I hear villagers saying so all the time. So, we’ll remain a family, whether he likes it or not.” He reached out and pressed on Tyflyn’s nose until he smiled.

“R-r-right.”