It was a brisk and early spring day, with winter just having left, with the cold and snow lingering behind by just days. The neighs of one of the mares cried out alongside the thumping of her hoof on the stable wall. Upon the ground and on a pile of hay, the old stablehand and his young helper tended to the pained animal. Her stomach was swollen with child. The sun was little more than streaks of light over the horizon. Many of the servants were still waking. Of the earliest maids to wake up, the youngest of them made their way through the manor, shouting news of the birth. "Everyone! The madam's mare is giving birth in the stables! Come! Come!"
Even Erik was awoken by Nomay, who pleasantly rushed into his room to dress him. "Young master, rise and shine." Erik's eyes remained closed, dreaming still even as he was dressed and carried out of the room. Before he knew it, he was outside, dressed in heavy and warm clothing, standing in the stables with many of the servants and his family. The smell was that of shit and hay, only made worse by the cold air which prompted Erik to pull his scarf over his mouth. Everyone crowded around to witness the birth with expecting gazes. When the time finally came and the foal was being pushed out, exclaims of disgusting cried out alongside the laughter of many.
Noesse and Oliver both uttered together, "Ugh!" before they looked at one another and laughed. Many of the adults did so as well, with Vindor being by far the loudest. Erik was the only one to watch without much movement on his face, though much of it was covered. Soon, all was done and the new foal was born. It was a young steed, with a black coat spotted with white around the front of its head and above its haired hooves.
"Erik," Vindor patted his shoulder in laying his hand upon his boy. "This one will grow into a fine Highland steed, a descendant of strong Cezarchian warhorses. It is yours to name, and will be yours to ride and care for."
"It is mine?" Erik asked.
"Yes. What kind of name are you thinking to give?"
Erik gave it a few seconds. "...Biscuits," he answered, swiftly turning to look back and up at Nomay. "Nomay, I am cold."
Vindor and the servants laughed, with Nomay, too, chuckling as she took him inside. "Yes, young master. Lets get you to the den."
Erik was of royalty, eleventh in line for the ducal throne of Cezarch, with his uncle, Haldor Chamber being the one who would succeed the current Duke, his grandfather Gendal Chamber, father to his. Still, being of royalty meant he would live a wealthy and cushy life, and those he would socialize with would be of higher standing. His mother, Celia, was prominent among the noblewomen of Novergracia, who was known for her natural elegance and charm. Little would be said of her standing, considering her closest friends to be her sister-in-law, Welsha Chamber, the Duchess of Radenwalt, Elizabeth Rose, and the Duchess of Courthal, Catherine Jonrai. With them being as close knit as they were, it was of no question that they would arrange playdates often between their children. To Erik, he would simply be placed in a room with other children around his age. They would practically grow up with each other, often visiting one another for birthday celebrations or playdates. The moment the families would gather, whatever manor or palace was chosen as the hosted gathering place felt as though it were crowded, despite the grand size of them all. As young as Erik and the other children his age were, it would not be farfetched to say that they were strangers to each other, despite having grown up together. They were young, their minds still developing, despite Erik being certain to remember. That being said, they did not truly socialize with one another until Erik was five years old, and had traveled to Courthal for Peter Jonrai's birthday. The Jonrai Ducal Household was by far the wealthiest, being among the wealthiest dynasties in the kingdom, with their palace home being the most extravagant. Catherine Jonrai was the wife to the Duke of Courthal, Hadvard Jonrai, and had two children, Peter, who had just turned come of age at fifteen, and Devone, who was little more than a couple months older than Erik. Peter was a bright young man, like strands of fine gold his hair was, and eyes of amber, with the posture and manners of a true noble. Rumor was, he was as gifted with magic as he was with the sword, a fitting successor next in line to be Duke. Many believed the next generation would be prosperous because of young men like him.
In the grand hall, where lights shone brightly from every chandelier and candelabra, reflecting off the gold of every picture frame, table, chair, even fork, spoon, and knife, the dozens of guests gathered in dining. Children as young as five, as Erik was, and as old as ten were kept to the children's playroom, adorned with toys and desserts to keep them occupied. There were many children all born to nobility and royalty, but children nonetheless. Some screamed out of anger, others cried. It was to be expected, as was the response of their caretakers attempting to calm them. Erik kept to himself, reading while Nomay waited diligently in the seat next to him. His eyes were glued to the dense and illustrationless historical telling, "The Beginning of Highland."
The children were being watched by a few maids and the Jonrai's on nursemaids. Still, there are far more children than there were watchful adults.
Erik preferred being left alone to read, and the mere sight of a child reading a thick and dark covered book should have gave off that impression, yet a young girl sat next to him. "Erik!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?"
The young girl wore a bright red dress adorned with large, comically oversized ribbons. Even at his age, he found them to be ridiculous, but as was the trend of the time. Her hair was nearly as red as her clothes, like that of blood, with eyes of blue that contrasted greatly. Her face was freckled with only so few, that you could count them on both hands. She was Emily Rose, a year older than Erik, and was the daughter to Elizabeth Rose, Duchess of Radenwalt, and Barren Rose, Duke of Radenwalt. As spoiled as could be, even as young as she was, she knew to hold her head up high and conduct herself with manners befitting a lady.
"I am reading." Erik sighed.
"Read to me!"
"Why?"
"I wish to know what you are reading."
"I am reading the history of our kingdom."
Suddenly, something had splat against the back of his head. It was thrown from nearby, had shocked Erik stiff, and left Emily confused as to what had happened. From behind, Erik would hear laughter, followed by one of the maids scolding them for what they had done. Another maid had gone over to Erik with a handkerchief, wiping away at the food in his hair. "Those boys. Are you all right, young one?" asked the old maid.
Erik was still stunned, unbudging almost, as his gaze fixed on the cream that had splattered on the pages of his book.
Emily got up from her seat to scold the boys who had thrown the cake at him. Erik turned to see who it was that had thrown it. He saw three boys being scolded, one of which was his cousin, another he did not recognize, with the final boy being Devone Jonrai.
Calling him or any of the other children who he had socialized with over the years was a stretch, as Erik was always quiet and kept to himself, even when they would visit Finefield for a couple of weeks. Devone was a bit of a scoundrel, often being a nuisance, much like Emily was in Erik's eyes. Still, Erik did nothing. He did not cry, did not flinch, did not show a bit of emotion, neither anger nor sadness. He simply remained as he was, sitting with that distant yet focused stare. He would continue on, even after the situation was settled, the kids were cleaned up, and all were to go on about their own business, with Erik remaining seated in reading. Emily had left and Erik was staring at the table ahead of him. One would think he was reading, but his eyes did not move along the lines of the page. Instead, it was on the yellow and gold embroidered table cloth.
Suddenly, Erik had yanked it off as he jumped off his seat. The cloth fluttered behind him, and he made his way across the room. He marched hastily towards the blonde haired little boy. The cloth fell over his eyes, and before he knew it, he was blinded. Erik yanked from behind, wrapping the cloth around his head as Devone struggled and cried out in panic. Erik brought his balled up fist onto the child, whacking and hitting with both fists as violently as a child fighting another could be. The other children around them merely watched, some running and others screaming. The maids quickly rushed to pull Erik away and unravel Devone, who upon uncovered, gasped and cried; his face red as could be.
He watched as the maid carried Erik away, Erik, whose eyes remained on Devone. Devone cried more.
Later that night, as the celebration died down and the parents of the children began to collect their offspring, the maids told the Duke and Duchess of Courthal, as well as Vindor and Celia what had happened. The mothers were simply aghast, while the Duke of Courthal remained uncaring. "Take Devone to his chambers and put him to bed."
Vindor, however, was amused, though his cheeks were red and his breath reeked of alcohol. He laughed heartedly, finding the altercation to be nothing but a child's squabble.
"By the faith," Celia uttered in disbelief.
"Yes, forgive my son." said Catherine Jonrai. "What he did to little Erik was not befitting a Jonrai."
"Yes, and please forgive Erik, I have never seen him act out like that before."
"Of course, of course. They are simply boys. In fact, how about we arrange a playdate between them soon? I would love to come visit to see the progress you have made on your garden."
"I would love that, how about the coming month for Erik's birthday? I am sure the journey will be best once spring is truly settled in."
Of course, their decision was made, and as they planned, continuing on through an exchange of multiple letters over weeks, numerous guests would arrive by noon. Carriages, polished and grand, pulled by two steeds each and carrying luggage by strap would arrive from the dirt road of Finefield. Celia had made the entire family and staff gather at the entrance to welcome them, perhaps as a means to show nobility, that their manor home simply could not otherwise. The fact was, compared the palace homes of the Duchesses, the Chamber Estate gave off an impression of, humility, if anything. The guests did not arrive all at once. The first carriage to pulled into the front of the estate, around the from the right of the path that encircled the front yard of the manor, were two red carriages adorned with yellow painted rims and edges. On the door, small flags that decorated the vehicle, as well as the tabards thrown over the two white steeds, printed the royal sigil of the Rose dynasty; a red rose, surrounded by a flamelike ring and a robin, whose beak faced the center, and whose wings were spread.
As the horses' hooves came to a final stomp, and the carriage rolled to a halt, the chauffeur stepped down and proceeded to open the carriage door. From inside, waltzed out in taking the chauffeur's hand, the young Emily Rose. Her sister, Ember Rose, and mother, Elizabeth Rose, followed in tow. Another carriage was not far behind, one of white and gold, bolstering white steeds pulling its weight with the Jonrai dynasty's sigil, flown across its tabards and flags; a white horse, encompassing a four pointed star, and the depiction of a sword thrusted through the center at an north-east angle. The guests were welcomed into the manor, with a total of five more carriages arriving. They all were left in the front, off the right of the manor's yard, while the horses were taken around, to the pasture. The invited guests were not the only to attend the gathering, bringing along their children's dutiful nursemaids, and guards, as was to be expected when any wealthy or noble family traveled long distances with children. Aside from the ladies of the Rose house, the Duchess of Courthal had arrived with her two sons, as did a third set of carriages a good fifteen minutes later. Marquess Haldor Chamber, uncle to Erik, and brother to Vindor, and his wife, Theresa Chamber, were aboard one of the leading carriages. In total, there were three carriages, each one a dark, navy blue, with yellow borders, sharp edges, and the Chamber crest upon its doors; the image of a sabaton, a sword, and a knight's helmet, all meeting at the center of an elegant and royal design.
The maids had spent the day prior setting up the celebratory dining hall in preparation for sitting all of the guests. The hall was aloud with conversation and hollering. The women were gossiping, the elder children were telling stories, the younger running around the table or sitting in eating. The scent of meat and herbs filled the room, bright with lights from the hanging chandelier above. The Marquess of Cezarch and his family were guided into the dining hall by the butler, to a loud welcome from Vindor.
"Brother!!" he shouted with open arms, meeting his brother, Haldor, in a welcome embrace.
"Vindor!!" the two patted each other on the back. Haldor turned to the others, "Hello, everyone. Forgive us for being late."
Erik was among the children sitting at the end of the table. He ate without making a fuss, with Nomay standing behind his seat. The seat to his right was empty, which was soon taken by his cousins who had just arrived. The four of them sat down, his eyes just barely glancing at them from the corner of their sockets. His eldest cousin, William, was the eldest out of all of the children. His cousin, Braden, was at most a year older than he was. At last, were the two twin sisters, Triss and Winonia, who were about the same age as him. Erik could hear the mocking scoff from Braden. The moment he sat down, he and Devone dove right into conversation. This, from Devone, who gave nothing but daring looks at Erik, though Erik disregarded it, focusing on eating his meal until his plate was clean and he could excuse himself.
"Nomay, I am done." he told, at which Nomay pulled back his seat and reached to take his plate away.
"Yes, young master."
Erik wanted to leave, to get away from the guests and go about studying in peace, but his mother did not allow it. "Oh, Nomay, I would like Erik to socialize with the other children, could you please make sure he makes friends with them?"
"Ah, yes, madam. I will try my best."
The usually quiet manor was now plagued with noise. Out here in the countryside, where only the homes of nobles, woodlands, and flat stretches of grass fields lay, the only noise that ever seemed to express itself, was that of chirping birds or the creaking of the forest. Within the estate, depending on where you were, it was the galloping of horses, the conversing of maids and workers, or the grunting of the training house guards. Now, Erik's ears itched with unpleasant laughter and screaming of children. If only to make it worse, his mother would not allow him to be away from them, thus, he was now forced to socialize with eight other children. After everyone had eaten, they gathered outside to play in the beautiful sun and cool air. "Why don't we play hide-and-seek?" his brother, Oliver suggested. "The only rule is, you can not hide inside, you can not go past the fencing, and if you are caught, you have to help find the others." Everyone gave collective excitement, but no one wanted to be it. Oliver, being as kind as he was, began counting. "One! Two! Three!" Everyone scattered, giggling and laughing. Erik was the only one to remain, having not fled with the rest.
"Young master, you should go hide." Nomay chuckled to herself.
Erik looked around for somewhere to hide. He saw some of the children run toward his mother's gardens, others around to the front of the manor and eventually decided to follow along while scouring the area for places to hide. The east of the manor was connected to the servant's quarters and was where the maids did the laundry. He saw the girls running ahead of him, giggling and screaming. Erik hadn't explored so far, and where he was he was barely able to recognize the tree that overshadowed his bedroom window on the second floor. It was a large oak tree that grew between the manor walls and the horse's enclosure. This gap was practically a crevice, too narrow and overgrown with foliage for anyone to simply walk through like an open hallway. Erik climbed up onto a ledge, too thin to stand on with the full flat of one's boots. Being smaller, he was just barely able to press against the wall and scrape his way along, deeper into the thicket and eventually reaching the trunk of the tree. Its shade cast over the area, blanketing it in grey. Erik's foot scraped against the brick, tossing itself off the ledge and yanking his body forward. He fell onto the dirt. He could hardly see a thing other than the stone and brick wall of the manor on one side, and the bushes and leaves on all other. He struggled his way, pushing and swiping at foliage, trying to make his way to the light. He began to panic, his breathing growing rapid, his sense of direction being questioned. He came to the trunk of the tree, to an area of just a bit of space to move freely. He again found the manor wall, his foot stepping onto something that could only be metal, clanking against metal. As his eyes looked down, he saw something like that of iron, hidden beneath dirt and dry leaves. It was in that moment that all panic seemed to cease, replaced by curiosity. A trap door, forgotten, lost, hidden, beneath his own home. He eventually recollected himself, attempting to open the door, but being unable to even budge it. It was simply too heavy, and he was too weak. His breathing had calmed down, and as he turned his head, he saw the light and pushed his way through. He eventually reached the fence to the horse's enclosure, squeezing through the boards and reaching the other side. He made his way to the stables, across the pasture field where the horses were grazing.
"Uh, sir, I think one of the children got into the pens." said the young stablehand to the elder.
"Oh, my. I think that's the young master Erik." he laughed. "Go fetch that young maid of his, she will want to collect him."
As Erik made his way over, the horses curiously made their way over to him and he was able to rub their faces, including his own foal.
"Uh, hello, Miss." the young stablehand said upon finding Nomay. "I believe one of the young ones got into the horse pens, you might want to go collect him."
"Huh?!" Nomay jumped. She was taken to the stables where she rushed over to Erik, picking him up in horror to how dirty he was. "Young master?! Are you all right?!"
The commotion was made bigger by the women's overreactions, from the maids, Nomay, and his mother, who could not believe the filthy sight of, would have told the story as though he looked like he'd been attacked by a wolf. Nomay later washed him of all the dirt, scrubbing him clean in a tub of warm water, she asked him, "Young master, did you have fun playing the other children?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"They are loud. Their game does not make sense."
Nomay couldn't help but be amused. "Well, I would say, that playing with friends is fun, it does not have to make sense. You should try to get along with them, perhaps invite them to do things that you like, as they are are all of very reputable families. It will only benefit you to have a good relationship with them, as you will all grow up together. I know you do not like them as of right now, but, if you just give it a chance, I am sure you will come to be good friends with them. Erik remained quiet for a few moments as Nomay poured water over his hair. His eyes fixed on her, a loose gaze that shifted to the soapy water.
"What should I do?"
"Play a game you both like, or perhaps talk about something they are interested in. You may find a new interest, yourself."
"All right. I will try."