The Last Golden Eagle

Chapter 2 - The Stolen Son

“Hurry,” his mother said as she pushed Darian into a room. “Remember, do not say a word no matter what happens.” Then she shut the door. She rushed to open the front door.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice quaking.

Soldiers entered the house and pushed her away with their shoulders until about five of them stood in the living room. The others surrounded the house. The soldiers made way for a silver-haired woman who wore a gray dress and carried a strange, long stick that was curled at the end. Her eyes were full of strange colors. The woman spoke, “Today, there was a strange disturbance in the realms. It led us here. Are you Helena?”

“I am Helena,” Darian’s mother replied.

The woman inspected Helena as if she was an article to be bought. “Take her!” the silver-haired woman said as she turned and walked away.

Helena screamed as the guards neared her, but the guards did not care. They carried her away and did not even let her walk on her own legs. The other soldiers followed quickly.

Darian was watching it all through a small crack in the door. He wanted to scream. What the hell were they doing to his mother? But then he remembered his mother’s instructions. It would get better, right? Mother was always right, and she had told him to stay calm. But the moment he saw tears in his mother’s eyes, he thought of anything but obeying her. Darian wanted to rush out. The doors were locked, so it was impossible. His small hands banged on the door.

The guards were already out of sight, except for one who turned and walked slowly toward the room Helena had locked Darian in. He had heard the sound. Although it was not loud, it was significant. Someone had to be behind that door.

Darian froze as he saw the soldier come closer through the crack in the door. He felt that strange feeling of fear again. His hands went limp by his side and he could not make a sound.

“Hey! Her Holiness wants all the soldiers with her. Hurry up already. What the hell are you doing there?” a voice yelled from outside the place.

The soldier walking towards the door Darian hid behind stopped. They had got the person they wanted, so the person hiding should be of no consequence. He turned and left the place.

Darian could finally exhale without fearing that it would be heard. Then he finally muttered, “Mommy.” The hurried tears came, then the screams. Anxious and alone, he soon fell asleep. He woke up hours later and the darkness painting the sky from the window told him it would soon be nightfall. His fear increased. He had no lamp, no food, no company. Darian leaned against the wall and hugged his knees.

When it got really dark, little Darian heard footsteps. Maybe it is my mom, he thought. He rose to his feet and tried to head towards the door. It was dark, but he saw a light coming from the crack in the door. Maybe if he could reach that crack, he could see.

The door opened without warning. A person in black stood before Darian carrying a little lamp. His face and all other parts of his body were covered, apart from his hands. That was definitely not Darian’s mother. Darian acknowledged the fact and panicked. The next thing he knew, he turned and tried to run, but strong arms carried him. Darian’s body was small, and he tried to thrash around. Maybe he could set himself free. A small white cloth was hurriedly placed over his nose. Darian inhaled the fragrance and his body went limp. The boy was unconscious.

**"

When Darian woke up, he was in a different place. He rose slowly and rubbed his head. He was lying on a large bed. The bed was covered in purple and white sheets. Darian turned and saw a servant standing by his side—an old man with a bald head. He was in a green robe, and a dark blue sash was tied around his waist. The moment the servant saw that Darian was awake, he said, "Young master, please change your clothes. The Lord and Lady would like to see you now."

Darian rose to his feet after rubbing his eyes with one hand. He yawned one last time and climbed down from the big bed. “Where am I? Who are you? Who are the Lord and Lady?” Darian asked.

The old man smiled, “So many questions… you will know soon.” The old man helped Darian change his clothes. He wore yellow pants with a white shirt and yellow jacket. "Young master Darian, please follow me," the elderly servant said as he moved toward the door. Darian was right behind him.

Darian walked through the large halls whose walls were delicately carved. This place was bigger than his mother’s cottage. There were also a lot of servants walking around, carrying different objects and rushing to perform various tasks.

“Is this a palace?” Darian wondered aloud.

“Keep it down,” the servant who was leading him turned to warn him.

Darian felt a little excited walking through the halls. This place was amazing. The servant led him to a giant hall guarded by two servants. They opened the doors, and Darian and the servant leading him entered.

Seated at the end of the hall in regal attire and lofty seats were a man and a woman. Both had frowns on their faces. The woman was wearing a peach-colored dress with flowery decorations on it. The man had a mustache, a hat, and spectacles. He looked respectable in his pants and suit.

“Is that the child?” the man asked; his voice carried a tinge of scorn.

The servant bowed, “Yes, sir.”

“Bring him closer so that I can see him,” the man instructed, clicking his teeth.

The servant gently pushed Darian forward.

Darian was still looking around the place. He had never seen so many decorations and designs in one place before. He was used to smaller and less distinguished places. He had the urge to run around and feel the carved walls with his hands, to press against their hardness.

"Will you focus, child!" The man scolded Darian, using one hand to touch the end of his long mustache. He could see the playfulness in the child's eyes and guessed that Darian wanted to run around.

Darian was startled by the yelling. He shook, and his little hands raced to his sides.

The woman looked disapprovingly at Darian, then back at the man seated by her side. "My Lord, the child has no manners. I will do well to teach him the proper etiquette so that he will not behave so... badly next time." The way she rolled her tongue was as if she had tasted something rotten.

"Indeed, my Lady," the man replied. Then he planted his gaze on Darian. "Child, what is your name?"

Darian swallowed the lump in his throat. "My name is Darian," he said.

"Darian..." The man repeated the word almost like he was tasting it. "Very well then. I am your father, Darian. My name is Lord Lucas Featherington. But, you may address me as Father." He paused for a moment, checking to see if the boy was following him. He saw a brief spark of interest in Darian's eyes, then he continued. He pointed to the woman at his side. "This is your stepmother. Her name is Lady Ally Featherington. You shall address her as Stepmother. She will be in charge of your education and welfare. I simply do not have the time to take proper care of the son of a concubine. All you need will be gotten from her. And I do encourage you to be well-behaved; if not, Lady Ally Featherington will discipline you as required."

The moment Darian had heard that the man standing before him was his father, he was stricken with joy. He wanted to run and hug him after he made his brief speech. He also wanted to ask if his father knew where his mother was. Darian remembered that his mother always taught him to let elders speak first. It was impolite to interrupt. So he had waited. But when he was about to speak, his father spoke sharply. "I have seen enough of him. Take him out of my sight. Take him straight to his room, at once!"

And just like that, before Darian could open his mouth to say anything, he was driven to his room, his head bowed and his eyes downcast.

When Darian got back to his room, he sat on the bed. His face was still downcast.

The servant looked at him, "Do not be sad, my boy."

Darian smiled, "I wonder where my mother is. I wanted to ask my father, but he would not let me say one word to him. He would not even let me touch him."

The servant smiled, "Your mother will come see you soon."

Darian's eyes lit up. "Really!"

The servant nodded.

Darian jumped off the bed. "I am going to wait for Mother. I want us to be together. I will also take good care of myself, so that when she comes, she will meet me well and strong."

"That's the spirit," the servant said.

Darian asked, "What is your name, old guy?"

The servant laughed. "Why do you call me old?"

Darian replied, "My mother said old people have gray hair."

The servant nodded. "Indeed. But I have to tell you that some young people have gray hair too. My name is Alfred. I'll serve you as long as you live here."

Darian bowed to him.

Alfred was wide-eyed with surprise. "Why did you do that?"

Darian rose, "My mother taught me to thank people when they are good to me."

Alfred smiled. "There is something I must show you, young master Darian." Alfred walked toward a bookshelf. He pulled out a red book and pushed a button behind it. The wall parted in two and opened.

Darian's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow!"

"Shhh," Alfred placed one hand in front of his lips to stop him. "Not a sound. Now, follow me."

Darian did as he was told. He followed Alfred down a dark tunnel lit up by fire torches. Soon, they were standing in a martial arts training ground. "Wow!" Darian exclaimed as his eyes swept around the place.