Ekubatana, The Palsian Year 309.
Two months had passed since the incident with Narcasse, and Darun regretted every moment of it. If things had been awkward between the two of them before, they were now tense, at best. They were drifting apart, Darun knew, and he felt awful because he knew why it was happening but there was nothing he could do about it.
Darun prided himself on being a loyal friend, and so he made repeated attempts at pretending nothing had changed between the two of them. But it was obvious that something had. Darun was tense whenever Narcasse looked at him. It was an automatic reaction. His rational mind told him that Narcasse would never hurt him, but his body always reacted defensively. He would start a conversation with Narcasse and just as they started to get along like they used to, he would wonder if he was acting too friendly or sending the wrong kind of signal. Then his body language would react accordingly and things would become strained again.
But this will pass, Darun told himself. It had to. He could not believe that nine years of friendship would be thrown aside for just a single day. It could not. He missed Narcasse and the easy friendship they used to have. Vowing that today would be different, today he would fix things, just as he had vowed every morning for the last two months, Darun left to find Narcasse.
---
"Hey Narcasse," Darun greeted when he spotted his friend. He friend was standing in the main hall, looking at the mural of Kai Hoslo with a distant look in his eyes.
Narcasse turned slightly when he heard his friend's voice. "Hey yourself." His gaze never left the painting.
Darun looked at the painting as well. There was nothing special about it that he had not seen before, but it at least gave him something other than Narcasse to look at. He studied the painting of Ruknabard.
"Did you know that one of Mani's greatest inspirations was the slave that he kept?" Narcasse asked. "He wrote it in some of his letters to his friends. 'Nafer' -- that was the name of his slave -- 'Nafer has told me about this dream he had, wherein he was Kai Hoslo, the great hero, and was battling the evil snake king. The smile on his lips when he told me this story was simple and pure. I wish I could make him smile the same in waking hours.' It was rumored that Mani was in love with his slave. Sometime after that letter this piece was painted."
"I see." Darun did not know anything about the painting before him, however, he did know that he had missed Narcasse telling him random stories of history that he had come across. He relaxed, a little, and listened to the soothing sound of his friend's voice.
Narcasse continued. "Mani had interesting ideas about slavery. He became more and more convinced that slavery was an evil institution and that slaves were just normal people, like the rest of us. He tried to tell the king to end slavery. He tried to tell everyone. The king, instead, took an interest in Nafer and offered to buy him from Mani."
Darun had heard the rest of the story before. "And so Mani refused and was executed. King Derus was then mysteriously poisoned and the slave -- I didn't know his name before, Nafer you said? -- committed suicide." He paused and shook his head. "Mani shouldn't have tried to convince the other nobles to end slavery. Doing so was what made King Derus think he was a threat."
Narcasse glanced sideways at Darun. "I believe that was only the excuse that King Derus gave. Mani was only doing what he thought was right."
"And if that action undermined the power of the king, who holds the country together and prevents it from falling into chaos? Should one man's thoughts endanger an entire country? Mani overstepped his bounds. King Derus would have overlooked his actions, if Mani hadn't tried to convince all the nobles of the same thing. They were the ones who complained to King Derus."
Narcasse's voice held steel when he spoke. "All great changes in history start with one person. Palse has always prided itself on being different from Lusitania in that we allow our people to believe whatever religion they want to, but this pride only came after King Xertes declared that he did not care what his subjects believed in, so long as they followed him. Should people not have the right to their own opinions as well? Mani didn't believe in slavery, and his only crime was to explain his views to others. This does not justify Derus having him executed. I don't believe in slavery, either. If I told the king, would this justify my death?"
"Only if you challenged me in the same way," boomed a deep voice behind them. Darun and Narcasse both turned at the same time. Darun saw with horror King Andragoras standing behind them.
Narcasse frowned and was about to speak. "Your Majesty--"
Darun stepped in front of his friend and cut him off. "Forgive him, Your Majesty." He bowed and spoke quickly. "Narcasse and I have had too much to drink and we were just having a theoretical squabble. He means nothing he says." He was relieved when Narcasse did not disagree and remained silent.
King Andragoras stared at both of them for a moment. "Very well. Narcasse, perhaps you can learn a thing or two from Darun. Insubordination will not be tolerated. You best remember that." He turned and started to walk away, then stopped. "And Darun. Perhaps it is too early for drinking, isn't it? It's not even noon yet. I'd hate to see my general's nephew do something stupid before he's even had a chance to eat lunch." Then he left.
Darun waited until the sounds of the footsteps receded. Only then did he lift his head and look at Narcasse. His friend was biting his lip again, and his face was taut with tension. He did not look happy.
Narcasse said, "Perhaps, Darun, we should carry this early morning drinking conversation elsewhere? Somewhere more private?"
---
They were back in Narcasse's room.
"Why did you stop me from saying anything to Andragoras?"
"King Andragoras," Darun corrected. "And how could I not? You should know better than to anger His Majesty."
Narcasse took a deep breath. "Darun, I don't need you to protect me. I appreciate the sentiment but really, your action was unnecessary."
Darun was astonished. "Narcasse, if I hadn't interfered, then you might be rotting in a cell! You know that King Andragoras has a terrible temper. Any signs of disagreement or disobedience and you're gone!"
"That's not the issue here," Narcasse said. He was angry. "You've been doing this for years. Any time I do something that might get me in trouble, you interfere. It happened the first time we became friends, remember? I taunted Kharlan and you jumped in and he beat you up instead."
"What?" Darun didn't understand what was upsetting his friend, but he was certainly getting upset for being accused of interfering. "That's something completely different. I told you, I did that for my uncle, remember? It had nothing to do with you."
"But you've done it ever since. Whenever I picked a fight with someone, you've interfered and then either you get hurt instead or both of us get hurt." Narcasse struggled to find the right words to say. "What if King Andragoras punished you instead of me for one of my actions? I'd feel guilty about it and it wouldn't even be my fault!"
"Not your fault? So you're saying that it's my fault for always trying to help out? It's MY fault for trying to be a good friend? All those times I've stood up for you--" The memories flashed before him, every blow, physical, verbal or other, that he had taken for his friend. "--you just think that I'm INTEFERING? That I'm just a bother? I'm in the way?"
Narcasse shook his head. "No, it's just that--"
Darun would have none of it. "What about you falling in love with me, is that my fault too? Is it my fault that I don't return the sentiments? Is it my fault that your confession ruined our friendship?"
Narcasse inhaled sharply. "So you admit it. We're no longer the friends that we used to be." He smiled bitterly. "And it's my fault, is it?"
"If you hadn't said anything, it wouldn't be so weird between us!" Darun yelled.
"Fine." Narcasse's tone was cold. "Since it's my fault, I'll make it easier for both of us. We're no longer friends. It's liberating to finally be freed of you. You're such a burden on my conscious. I always have to restrain what I want to say for fear of getting you in trouble. And for what? Speaking my mind? Do you know how many times I bite my lip trying to self-censor myself so that you won't do something stupid and get in trouble for something I've said? I can finally do what I want without having to consider both of us." He opened his door. "Get out. I can't stand looking at you."
Darun slammed the door behind him.
---
"Hey Darun," said Kharlan. Darun was polishing his sword.
"Yeah?"
Kharlan took a seat beside him. "I notice you no longer hang around Narcasse. Never saw what you did in him. I'm glad you're finally aware of what an ass he is. What happened? Change of heart?"
"No," said Darun levelly. He looked up and saw that, coincidentally, Narcasse walking by. The two of them shared a hateful look. Darun raised his voice, answering Kharlan's question. "Some people just change."
Narcasse said coolly, "And some people never do."
They shared another hateful look before Narcasse walked away, alone.
---
How much Narcasse had been restraining himself became apparent after that.
In the Palsian court, gossip flew like fire. Relationships broke and reformed as easily as water spilling from one container to the next. It was not unusual for nobles to move from one circle of friends to another. In due time, Darun found himself in another group. Under his eye, he watched as Narcasse made enemies at court with his tongue. He watched as the same tongue won him respect. Soon Narcasse had his own little group of fellow intellects. It was rumored that he was sleeping with several of them. Other scandalous rumors followed.
Seeing that Narcasse had been serious about his word, Darun tried one last attempt to reconcile their differences. He was rebuffed. Angry, he decided that they had never been friends.
They avoided each other at every possible chance. What had once been a daily occurrence, seeing and talking with each other, now became an occasion that both parties tried very hard to prevent.
---
The Palsian Year 311.
It was Prince Arslan's fourth birthday party. As with previous years, the Palsian nobility celebrated with food, wine, and entertainment.
One of the musical guests was a red-haired minstrel. While there was nothing extraordinary about him or his performance, Darun could not shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before.
He drank his glass of wine and pretended to listen to Kubard, who loved to brag and was currently the center of attention in their socializing circle.
"And so then I said..."
Darun studied the minstrel. Where had he seen him before? He was about to break from the circle and approach him when he saw that Narcasse had beat him to it. Narcasse engaged the minstrel in a conversation, and then the two of them returned to join Narcasse's group of friends.
Darun turned his back to them. Where had he seen that man before?
--
"You sent for me, Lord Cheiron?" Darun asked. He entered the Royal Historian's study, glancing around. Two years had not changed the setting much.
"Ah yes, Darun." The old man gestured to the seat before him.
Reluctantly, Darun sat down. He had not spoken to Lord Cheiron since his fight with Narcasse. It was not intentional, he simply avoided any place where he might see his former friend.
With a start, he saw that Lord Cheiron looked considerably older than he had two years ago. Or maybe he had never noticed before? Lord Cheiron's face was well-worn with wrinkles and all his hair was white. He was also much smaller than he had been in Darun's memory.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Darun nodded.
Lord Cheiron sighed. "I no longer go out much, Darun. I never really did. I stay in my study, record history, read my books, and dream about the past. I am old." The old man paused. "But I did go to the prince's fourth birthday party."
"Did you enjoy yourself, sir?" Darun asked politely.
"To some degree, yes. But I noticed that you and Narcasse are no longer speaking with each other. In fact, the two of you never came within more than twenty feet of each other. I tried to talk to Narcasse about it. We fought. I haven't argued with him like that in years. He's changed so much." The old man sighed again. "What happened?"
Darun shrugged slightly. "People, relationships change. Narcasse and I are no longer friends." It surprised him that it hurt a little to say those words to Lord Cheiron, who had been there during the entire course of their friendship.
Lord Cheiron closed his eyes and leaned back. "It's true. People change. Relationships change. But I must say, I'm a bit surprised. You two were such good friends. We were just talking about that a little while ago, weren't we? You had been friends for nine years."
A little while ago? It had been over two years since their last conversation. Darun nodded anyway, but seeing that Lord Cheiron's eyes were still closed, he gave a verbal assent. "Yes."
The old man opened his eyes and leaned forward. "Sit closer, please."
Darun scooted his chair forward until his knees hit the side of Lord Cheiron's desk.
Lord Cheiron held out his hand. Puzzled, Darun gave him his. Lord Cheiron clasped both of his hands around Darun's hand. Cheiron's hands were warm and soft.
"Please. I know this is a lot to ask, and I know that you two have argued. You're what now-- fifteen? Sixteen?"
"Nineteen."
"Ah yes. I had forgotten." Lord Cheiron bobbed his head. "Narcasse too."
"Yes."
"Yes, well..." Lord Cheiron looked up and met Darun's eyes. His eyes were pale blue. "Would you please continue to look after him for me when I am gone? He has no relatives left, except for you. You've always been like a brother to him. Please? I know the two of you are in the middle of an argument right now, but this will pass. True friendship can pause for several years and then start up again as if nothing had ever happened."
Darun hesitated. He respected Lord Cheiron too much to openly disagree with him. Finally, he decided that there was nothing wrong with humoring him. He gave a small smile. "What do you mean, after you're gone?" he asked jokingly. "You know you'll be around till Narcasse and I are both old men." Seeing Lord Cheiron's faint smile in response, Darun continued, "If Narcasse can tolerate me interfering with his life, then I will do my best." And he silently vowed that he would.
Lord Cheiron smiled more broadly. "Interference is the nature of relationships. We do not exist alone as separate islands. Rather, friendship, by its very nature, changes us and influences our actions. Thank you for listening to an old man ramble, Darun." He released Darun's hands. Darun reached over and clasped his hands around Cheiron's, one last time, before leaving.
---
A month later, Lord Cheiron passed away peacefully in his sleep.
It rained on the day of his funeral service, which was short and brief. A prayer was said to Misra for the safety of Lord Cheiron's soul and his rebirth. His body was buried in the graveyard next to the Palace gardens. Then, those who had attended -- a small group, for though he was kind and well-liked, he was not well-known, for he had spent the majority of the last decade of his life in his study -- hurried back inside to get out of the rain as soon as the service was over.
Darun, one of these people, went back inside and had a servant fetch him a hot drink. He sat alone for a while, in his room. He drank his drink slowly, lost in thought. After he finished his drink, he laid down on his bed and listened to the sound of raindrops against his window. He fell asleep briefly, then woke up and decided that it was time to act. He calmed the feelings of dread that he felt, and walked over to Narcasse's room. After standing outside for ten minutes, he finally gathered enough courage to knock on the door.
No reply.
Darun knocked louder. "Narcasse? It's Darun." There was still no reply.
Darun gave up and left. If Narcasse did not want to talk to him, that was fine by him. It was only when he reached his room did he realize that he did not recall seeing Narcasse hurry back inside like everyone else. A feeling of horror passed over him. Without another moment of hesitation, he ran outside the castle. His heavy boots caused the mud puddles to splash onto his pants. He arrived at the graveyard and his vision confirmed what he had feared.
Narcasse, the new Royal Historian, stood in the rain, alone, in front of the fresh grave.
Darun approached him. "Hey."
Narcasse stared at the ground. "Hey."
Tentatively, Darun touched Narcasse's shoulder. It was cold. Narcasse's clothes were thoroughly wet. When the other did not push him away, Darun slowly put his arm around Narcasse and pulled the other into a hug.
Narcasse's skin was cold. He was shivering. He was stiff for a moment, and then he relaxed. A minute later, he reach out and held onto the other.
As Narcasse began to cry against his shoulder, Darun closed his eyes.
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