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hand side of the door was the oldest and it seemed to be slowly crumbling. Zese thought it was such a shame that it was starting to fade, it would have been beautiful in its prime.

As he looked further to the right he could see the style changing, the son adding onto the fatherā€™s work. From there he could see the grandson and then the grandsonā€™s son and so on. There almost to the end of the wall were his grandfatherā€™s and his fatherā€™s paintings.

There next to the altarpiece was a container of paints and brushes. It was as if his body knew what to do. It headed to the paints and picked them up carefully. He turned them over in his hands trying to get the feel for them.

He returned to the wall to study his grandfatherā€™s. At the bottom in the right hand corner was his signature, probably an earlier version of his later one. The name read quite gracefully


Diar

He smiled as he traced the signature with his fingers. Heā€™d loved his grandfather for the small amount of time heā€™d known him. But now was not the time to dwell in the past so he moved onto his fatherā€™s. His fatherā€™s was much less boldly painted that his grandfatherā€™s but it could still be considered a triumph. Slowly and painstakingly over the next few hours he completed the story: the story of Aniatea. He smiled as he painted the Princess glowing and smiling as she watched over the world.

As if his thoughts had called her he heard a melodic ringing in his ears and he travelled over to the altar where he sank down onto the pillow.

He sat there for what must have been hours but when he rose it felt like heā€™d just woken from a long restful nap.

But now heā€™d learned who his family truly were, they were oracles, the voices of the Gods.


Chapter 7: Initiation

Zese stepped out the underground chamber and stretched. He covered his mouth as he let out a gigantic yawn. His whole body shook with that yawn. He been in the chamber eating nothing and drinking only water from the well that was in the chamber for three days. He had been going through a purification ceremony to become a true oracle of the Princess. She talked to him often now that she could communicate with him. The Princess often told him of different futures, of war, of famine, of plague and secrets of the world. She even told him her name ā€“ a name that had been lost for many centuries. Her name was Lysaes. Now that he was thirteen she had decided it was time for him to become a fully-fledged oracle. Once he followed the ceremony she would inform the two other oracles and the three priestesses that still served her.

He had asked her when she had mentioned them if, ā€œDid you tell them your name?ā€

ā€œNo, youā€™re the only one who knows my name. Youā€™re special, far more special than you think you are. You are destined for something great.ā€

He cocked his head to the side. ā€œWhen you say something great, what do you mean? Do you mean that Iā€™m going to get glory, power, love?ā€

Lysaes smiled mysteriously and replied, ā€œNot necessarily, being destined for something great is not always a good thing, yes, some of your heroes are always told theyā€™re destined for something great, but being destined for something great ā€“ that is up to you. Only you can make this greatness happen, by your actions, by your words. I can only tell you a possibility ā€“ something that may come to pass.ā€

ā€œThen why do you say it?ā€

ā€œSo many questions!ā€ she laughed. ā€œIt is not that I mean to tell you these things. When you are in multiple worlds at once sometimes they overlap and you donā€™t realize that youā€™re speaking to a differentā€¦you. Itā€™s very complicated and youā€™ll understand when youā€™re fully initiated.ā€

The conversation had sparked Zeseā€™s interest and passion and heā€™d gone looking for answers. Heā€™d pulled out the tomes of history from where his father kept them in their library. They were massive, heavy things, he could barely lift them from their spot on the top shelf. Once he had all three tomes on the table he had to find a washing cloth to wipe them down. They were covered in heavy grit, dust and deteriorating slightly of old age.

Gently he moved the dry cloth over the first cover, revealing slim paths of the actual cover. He carefully dunked a second cloth in warm water and wrung it out so it was only slightly dampened and rubbed it on the cover. As if by some magic the dust and dirt came off more easily. With each broad stroke of the steadily dirtying cloth more and more of the cover was being revealed.

At last, he thought to himself as the cover was completely revealed. The cover was gorgeous. It was made out of some type of leather and around the edges it was studded with little gems. In interesting patterns gold lines crisscrossed the cover creating a dynamic look and feel to the book. He ran his hands gently over it and down to the side where there was a lock. As he prodded his fingers against the inside of it he realized it needed a key to open.

Why do you lock a book up? He wondered to himself. But he didnā€™t have time to fool around; he had to get these books open so he could figure out what was going on.

For a few minutes he sat in the library thinking; trying to decide where he might find a key that would fit this book. He tapped his fingers a few more times on the book cover before going in search of his mother. He located his mother in her parlor sipping some sort of drink and reading a book. She looked up when he entered and motioned him to the chair opposite of her.

ā€œWhat is it?ā€ she asked a bit bluntly.

ā€œDo you know where Father keeps his library keys? Thereā€™s something I want to look at but canā€™t unless I have the keys.ā€

His mother tipped her head to the side. ā€œThereā€™s nothing in there thatā€™s locked that I know of. If youā€™re thinking those extra keys on the library ring go to something in there youā€™re wrong. They donā€™t.ā€

ā€œActually,ā€ he began but was cut off by his mother.

ā€œIf you did find something I donā€™t want to hear about it. I have an extra ring of keys you can have; I donā€™t particularly like his library anyways.ā€

ā€œI can keep them then?ā€

ā€œIsnā€™t that what I just said?ā€ his mother asked with some irritation as she rose from the loveseat sheā€™d been sitting in.

ā€œIā€™ll be back in a moment, donā€™t touch anything.ā€

With her sweeping skirts she left the room at a swift pace. Not more than five minutes later she returned to the room and disinterestedly handed him the keys. ā€œGo have fun, but donā€™t make a mess of your fatherā€™s books. He dislikes it when his library is disorganized.ā€

Zese turned to leave but his mother added one last thing, ā€œOh, I forgot to mention, thereā€™s going to be a ball tomorrow night.ā€

ā€œTomorrow night?ā€

ā€œYes, yes, itā€™s for your sister, sheā€™s finally engaged. Iā€™ll have your father help you dress tomorrow night, Iā€™ll be far too busy with other things to truly worry about what youā€™re doing with your time.ā€

When Zese turned away he rolled his eyes; his mother seemed to adopt a whole different personality when left alone in her private rooms; in fact she often acted like she was the ruler of them all.

He opened the door quietly and left his mother to her alone time, eagerly awaiting the surprise he hoped to find in the tomes heā€™d left back in the library.

He found however, when he returned to the library, his father putting the tomes back onto the shelves.

ā€œFather!ā€ he cried out in dismay.

ā€œZese!ā€ his father looked surprised. ā€œDid you take these down?ā€

ā€œYesā€¦I was hoping to read them.ā€

ā€œRead them? Zese, there are no keys to them.ā€

Zese frowned. ā€œMother has keys that match on her library key ringā€¦ā€ he trailed off a little uncertainly.

Ricr held out his hand and wriggled his fingers. ā€œLet me see, perhaps I gave them to her without thinkingā€¦ā€

Zese handed the keys over to his father who scrutinized them.

ā€œDefinitely the keys to these tomes. I wonder what your mother was doing with themā€¦?ā€

Zese waited patiently for a few more minutes and then his father turned to him and said, ā€œHere, just put them back where you found them when youā€™re done, but if you canā€™t reach Iā€™ll put them back myself later.ā€

Zese agreed and his father left him alone in the library.

Now that he was back, Zese was slightly nervous about opening the book ā€“ what if he found some horrible unnamed evil within the book? What if it took his soul? What then?

However he knew he needed to conquer these fears and open the book ā€“it could hold some very important information.

He wedged the key into the lock and the book snapped open, rust falling from hinges and inside the lock.

Carefully he peeled the cover back to reveal the first page. His first thought was of reverence. The inside pages were made from illuminated manuscripts and they were beautiful. They had curving lines of purples, blue, reds, greens, yellows and golds. It had to be one of the prettiest things heā€™d ever seen.

Then he got down to reading about the world. He made it through the first book, a history of the worldā€™s creation and the god and goddesses. The second book was a history of the rulers and the main wars and tragic events of their country, and the last volume was a record of all the noble families since the time of their creation.

Zese felt curiosity for his own family tree and flipped through the book searching for their title: Lachance. The more he flipped through it, the more interesting it became. Their coat of arms was underneath the name Lacroix ā€“ the family of the kings of Aniatea. Lacroix was the family names for the royal family; supposedly very few in number. But the royal coat of arms was differentā€¦and why was Lachance missing? Why was the Lachance coat of arms under the name Lacroix when it was seemingly impossible?

Zese didnā€™t know what to feel; on one hand he had a mystery and on the other he feared what could happen if he uncovered the truth.

He thought back to Lysaes words, ā€œYou are destined for greatnessā€ and wonderedā€¦does that greatness have to do with this mystery? Is my family somehow related to the royal family? Did we get kicked out or did we leave? Was there a fight?

If I ask father will he know the truth? Does mother? Perhaps granddaddy knewā€¦if any of them knew why donā€™t they talk about it? People generally donā€™t talk about bad things, do they though?

Zese felt his mind turning over and over and over again.

What was he going to do?

How was he going to find the truth?

What was his destiny?

And what truly, was greatness?

As he closed the book and headed down to the chamber

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