July 26, 1188
It had been a closed-casket funeral.Arkon had been a handsome boy, their mother always said. He had their father's soft blond hair, the Mokonri eyes, and their grandmother's flawless skin. The horse had seen fit to remedy that. One eye had swollen shut, and Aerina had had to shave part of his head to administer the stitches. His body hadn't been unscathed either. A broken leg, several broken ribs... one of which had nearly punctured his lung. It hadn't had to, though. The damage to Arkon's head had been enough.
One stupid accident, and his parents' handsome, strong, clever son--Severin's kind and generous brother--was gone.
And clumsy Severin with his crooked nose and his over-sized feet was still here.His parents were no strangers to losing children. Severin's sister Nearina had a twin who'd died before her second birthday, before Severin and even Arkon were born. He himself had had a twin sister too, and her life hadn't been much longer. But they'd scarcely had a chance to know Alina or Lileina--none of the family had. They'd known and loved Arkon for thirteen years. Severin had known and loved him all his life.
He didn't know how to not have a big brother.
"You'll be all right, Sev."
Severin stiffened. It was Arkon's voice. But it couldn't have been Arkon.
Could it?"Things will be rough for a while, but you'll be fine. Same with our sisters, and our parents. You'll make an excellent heir for father. You'll be a great knight, you'll marry a gorgeous woman, and you'll live a longer time than a lot of people around here."
Was he insane? Or was it just the grief, the trick of a troubled mind in an attempt at healing itself? "Arkon..."
"Don't worry about me. I'm not anywhere horrible. Death is a temporary thing anyway, it turns out; I'll be back on earth in some form or another in a couple centuries.
"Just name your first son after his uncle, all right?"
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