*Today's #fridayflash takes place in Amora, pre-The Last Prophetess. A while back I had a flash piece titled "The Boy Who Was Once a God." This takes place right before it. You can read that previous piece here. This piece is between the President of Amora and General Ryden, Apenth/Alyxander's father.*
You Must Promise
“General Ryden is here to see you,” Meli’s pleasant voice said over the intercom.
“Enter,” I called and watched the door open. Ryden entered, his long strides crossing the room with purpose. His enclosed first raised to his heart in a salute.
“You’ve asked for me, President.” His heels clicked at attention.
I’d trained him well.
I rested my elbows upon my desk and threaded my fingers together. My eyes focused on Ryden’s. He appeared almost at ease, ah, except for a small tremor. Good. He was worried. He should be.
“I believe it is time for your son Alyxander to join our honorable ranks,” I said.
“My son?” The ball in his throat bobbed up and down. “Sir, he’s only seventeen, not yet of age.”
“There is something I believe you should see.” I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the Memorizer. My thumb touched a small button on the side to activate it.
The clear orb floated in the air. Mists swirled within and shifted. A young man stood amongst the scattered remnants of a temple. The stones glowed as he passed by. They recognized him for the power he possessed. Then, he disappeared between two columns and out of view.
“This footage was shot last night at Lordéhi Isle. Is that not your son?”
The General appeared frozen, his eyelids slightly wider as he stared at the Memorizer. His fingers twitched at his sides. I wondered if he longed to wipe his sweaty palms upon his crisp trousers.
“It’s not the first time he’s been caught treading on sacred ground. Despite his age, he also has been touched with magic. Is that not true?” I leaned forward, and the General flinched.
“Sir, it’s not what you think. We almost lost him years ago. It’s gotten to his head. He hasn’t been the same since.” He spread his hands toward me, palms up. “Please, sir. Have mercy on the boy. He doesn’t know what he does.”
“Mercy?” I chuckled. “General Ryden, I know what he thinks he is.”
“He’s insane, not fit for duty.” The words poured from the man’s mouth.
I rose from my seat and came around the table to face him. “His skills could prove useful to our Guard. Ryden, we’ve known each other for many years, have we not?”
“Yes, sir, we have.”
“There are worse places than the Guard.” I placed my hand upon his shoulder. His skin shivered under my hand, and I clutched it tighter. “I’d hate to see him in Bellim or . . .”
“Very well, sir. When should he report to duty?” He closed his eyes. Resignation made his facial features fall. He was a beaten man. Just the kind I liked.
“Tomorrow morning, General, tomorrow morning.”