A novel WIP. I have no choice but to continue with this, too, because my first project in Fiction Writing is due in less than a month.





Children of Moda


~ Prologue ~

In his kitchen Mondero Malón took a deep breath and poured two glasses of red wine, careful not to spill any on the marble counter, though this was abnormally difficult due in large part to the uncontrollable shaking of his hands.

At last the wine was poured and he carried both glasses, with slow and cautious steps, into the study where he kept a seemingly endless amount of bookshelves. Only one shelf had yet to be filled with books. It sat in the middle of the far wall, beneath the window where sun would shine through on better days. It was roughly half full, and that bookshelf in particular was saved for his collection of diaries he’d written over the years of his thirty-seven-year-old life. Thanks to a mere baby and the prospect of fatherhood, however, he had a feeling he would fill the bookshelf sooner than originally estimated.

His sister, Virna Gronstaff, sat in a wooden rocking chair in front of the fireplace, the baby in her arms wrapped in an emerald blanket sprinkled with embroidered white stars. Virna Gronstaff, already the parent of three children that were actually hers, was singing a tune Mondero remembered their mother singing to them as children. Virna sang with a soft and soothing voice Mondero had always envied.

She sounds like an angel.

He didn’t make a sound but sat one glass of wine on the small table next to the rocking chair, taking one large sip from his own glass as he stared down at the baby. His godson, his new priority in life. The leader of a guild of thieves and spies, Baar knew that Mondero already had a plateful of responsibilities.

But what’s one more? He thought, smiling at the thought of fatherhood. Me? A father? I promised myself not to get wrapped up in the life of women and marriage, that I would never have children so that I could focus on running the guild. Now look what has happened.

Yet there was no anger inside him. Wariness, perhaps even fear, but no anger at all. He’s my godson. My godson! I could never be angry at this opportunity. Is that not the pledge I gave when the boy was born just weeks ago? That I would take care of him should anything happen to his parents? I gave that pledge unaware that the most horrible could actually happen. Well… it has happened. And there he is, snoring in my sister’s arms while his mother and father sleep forever.

“He looks just like Siiva, doesn’t he?” he whispered.

Virna smiled without looking up, her song having ended. Drool dripped down onto the baby’s chubby chin and she wiped it away with a handkerchief. “He does,” she whispered back. “It’s the eyes, I think. He has Ranella’s nose, though.”

“Yes, indeed he does.”

“Mondero, he’s so beautiful. Siiva and Ranella would have been proud.”

“Yes. Yes, they would have.”

Virna looked up at her older brother and took hold of his hand, gripping it tight. “You’ll make a wonderful godfather.”

“No,” Mondero said, and for a moment a scowl appeared on Virna’s face and she let go of Mondero’s hand. “I will be his father, not his godfather,” he continued. “He will see me as such. After all, I’ll be the first face he comes to fully recognize, the first father-figure in his life. To him I won’t be a godfather, but an actual father.”

Virna’s face relaxed as she continued rocking baby Baeder. “He’s so quiet for a baby. I wish my sons and daughter had been like this.”

Mondero smiled and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll be lucky and he’ll never cry.”

“Don’t count on that.”

Mondero sat down in a chair opposite of Mirna and watched how natural the baby looked in her arms. And for good reason, of course. She was raising two teenage sons and a teenage daughter. She knew the struggles of parenthood. She was his fountain of knowledge and he would drink it dry.

“You’ll help me, won’t you?” he asked.

She gave him a look as if he should have already known the answer. “Well of course,” she said. “Brother, I’m here whenever you need me.”

“Good,” he said. Despite already knowing his sister wouldn’t have left him to deal with the baby all by his lonesome, it was nice to hear the words come from her mouth. “You and Terius are familiar with this. Tell me, sister, what is it like to be a parent?”

“Tiresome,” she said, laughing, “but also the greatest feeling you can ever have. To see a child grow from year to year, guided by your words… there’s nothing greater. Nothing even remotely close.”

Mondero nodded. Baar is testing me, he thought. Running the Society is difficult enough. Now I have a baby to take care of. But, as said before, there was no anger within him. No regret, no thoughts of changing his mind. He would raise Baeder Surra, now Baeder Malón, to the best of his ability. Juggling his guild duties as the Grandmaster and taking care of the baby would be difficult, but he would see it through. He had to. He wanted to. Anything to make my friend happy. Siiva would have wanted it this way. The boy will become part of the Silver Hand Society. Just as Siiva and Ranella wanted.

“And what will become of baby Baeder?” Mirna asked, as if reading Mondero’s mind.

“He’ll follow the path of his parents,” he responded. “They would have wanted it this way. Originally I had thoughts of sending him to an orphanage far away from here, but… yes… they would have wanted it this way. The path of a thief and spy for Baeder, just as it was with them.”

Virna nodded at that and started up her singing again. Soft and soothing, she brought tears to her brother’s eyes, though the dim light of the room masked those tears.

So cruel the world is, taking lives when it shouldn’t. Tell me, Gods, what reason do you have for taking away Siiva and Ranella? If Baar wills all, then tell me what he wanted with my friends? Tell me… tell me…

“You’ll make a wonderful father,” Virna said.

“Yes, I hope so,” he whispered. Then, looking at Baeder, “For his sake.”