Eben stared up at the massive keep, craning his neck as he tried to take it all in. Its parapets soared into the sky, and before he even knew it, he was tipping backward--only Donan’s gentle hand upon his back keeping him upright.

“By Silver,” he breathed in amazement as the sun played off the structure. They had stayed the night at a monastery in a hamlet just outside of Ceres and had reached the city shortly after dawn broke.

House Kale stood in front of them. One of the eight houses that made up the outer wall of the capital. It was enormous, by far the largest thing Eben had ever seen. It stood like a mountain of fitted stone, huge and grand, serving as the northern entrance to Ceres. Towers dotted its high walls, flying purple pennant after purple pennant that snapped in the crisp air. There were countless murder holes cut into the structure, and a gate so large every monk from the temple could have walked abreast under its arch. Two horses of marble reared on either side of the opening, and Eben would have thought them likely to gallop away, so real did they look, if each hadn’t been as tall as a barn, thus shattering the illusion.

Donan’s hand gave a push, and Eben reluctantly shuffled forward, his bag slung over his shoulder. This early, there were a few people leaving the city, but none coming in yet besides the two of them. They passed by some spear-holding guards standing at attention beside the gate, and Eben noticed a handful more positioned further in. He wasn’t sure if they were supposed to stop and say anything to them, but Donan paid the armed men and women no mind, and the guards didn’t move to bar their way, so Eben let his worry go. Instead, he gazed up at the archway they walked beneath, noticing a long row of iron spikes fitted into a gap in the stone--a portcullis. Eben couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of being caught under something so heavy and unforgiving. More stone stretched above him as the tunnel continued, and then he noticed a second portcullis, shortly followed by a third.

The old monk stopped, and Eben lurched to a halt as well, his eyes dropping from the ceiling. They stood in front of an ornate, polished table that was positioned near one side of the gate-tunnel. On it, there were half a dozen rolled parchments in line, along with a quill and ink pot, while behind it sat a boy that couldn’t have been much older than Eben, and behind him stood a middle-aged woman. The boy was dressed in a powder blue doublet, fitted tight, elegant scrollwork in a darker blue running up and down its length. At his neck, was a fluffed white scarf, stitched with crisscrossing lines of silver thread, that tucked neatly into his straight collar. In contrast, the woman wore a simple black dress, with stripes of purple down her right sleeve, the exact same shade as the banners that topped the battlements outside.

“Greetings,” the boy said, giving the two of them an appraising look. “I assume you are one of the chosen that has been invited to celebrate the Festival of Birth at House Kale?”

Donan nodded.

“Excellent,” the well-dressed boy said, taking the closest of the nearby parchment rolls and opening it. “You are the first to arrive.”

Eben was a bit disappointed to hear that, but not surprised. After all, the Festival wasn’t until tomorrow.

“My name is Filipetulane Tissis, but you may call me Felipe,” the boy said. “Please state your name and position.”

A noble, Eben thought. He’s a noble. Few of the nobility traveled as far north as Holice and those that did didn’t deign to strike up conversations with Eben. He blinked, noticing that Donan, Felipe, and the woman were all staring at him, and he realized that he hadn’t answered the question yet.

“Eben,” he squeaked, suddenly nervous.

Luckily, Felipe seemed unbothered by the delay, his attention focused back on the parchment. “And your position?”

Eben looked up at Donan, and the old man signed helpfully.

“A c-charge,” Eben stammered. “To the monks of Holice.”

The noble nodded slightly, making a mark on the paper with the quill. “And your gift?”

“Gift?” Eben replied dumbly. Was he supposed to have brought something? His chest tightened. No one had said anything like that. He glanced again at Donan, suddenly hoping the old man would pull an extravagant present from the folds of his robe, but the monk just quietly returned the gaze, lifting one foot from the ground and patting the bottom of his sandal with his hand. What was the old man doing? Did he want to make a laughing stock of them both? “Um, I think we must have left it in the cart so...” Eben took a step back. “So if you’ll just wait, I’ll--”

“That is unnecessary,” the youth said, rolling up the parchment. “I simply need to see your birthmark to confirm that you are who you say.”

“Of course…I just thought…” Eben snapped his mouth shut before he said something else foolish. Bending over, he set his bag aside and began to pick apart the tied leather cords of his left sandal. As he did, he snuck a look at the guards lining the walls. None of them seemed to be taking an interest in him, but many were easily within earshot. Eben’s face flushed at the thought of these hardened defenders laughing in their cups later about the chubby church boy who didn’t know the meaning of the word “gift.”

When he finished loosening the straps, Eben straightened, removing his sandal. Then he stood there awkwardly, trying to decide how best to show the noble the mark.

Seeing his dilemma, Felipe pointed to the edge of the table. “You may place it here, please.”

“Uh, okay,” Eben said. He didn’t like the idea of putting his foot on such an expensive piece of furniture, and he wasn’t even sure if he could get his leg up that high. However, he didn’t want to argue, especially not after his previous misunderstanding, so he swung his leg back and then heaved it up and over, his heel landing on the table with a small thud.

Eben was rather proud of himself until Felipe leaned forward to inspect the bottom of his foot, the middle-aged woman behind him doing the same. Suddenly, all Eben could think about was the dirt caked between his toes and how badly it must surely smell, not to mention how his leg was bare for all to see and hiked up at an odd angle that threatened to expose his undergarments. As surreptitiously as he could while maintaining his balance, he tried to cover his naked thigh, as well as his crotch, with a section of the brown travel robe he wore. Eben thought he heard a snicker to the side, but when he glanced at the guards they were as cold and silent as before.

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, Felipe spoke again.

“Thank you,” the young noble said, indicating with his eyes that Eben could remove his foot.

Eben was more than happy to oblige, pulling his leg down and leaning over to refasten his sandal, letting out a quiet breath as he did. When he looked back up, he saw that Felipe had gotten out of his chair and was handing the woman the parchment roll.

“Follow me, please,” the well-dressed boy said to Eben and Donan, starting to walk toward the inner grounds of House Kale.

Eben grabbed his bag and set off after but stopped when he realized that Donan hadn’t moved. The old monk stood by the table, his wrinkles looking heavy upon his face.

“Donan?” Eben said, taking a few steps back.

The monk’s fingers bent and shifted, slowly speaking their meaning.

“But--” Eben started.

Donan shook his head, his hand cupping in goodbye.

Eben plowed into the old man, burying his face in the coarse grey wool that all of the monks wore. Donan’s arms wrapped around him, thin but strong.

“You have to stay, you have to!” Eben said, but he could feel the man’s head shaking ‘no’ again above him. Eben took a step back, so he could look Donan in the face. “But the Festival. Without you there…”

Donan smiled and squeezed his shoulder. Then the old monk was walking away--under the deep arch, past the guards, and out into the street. Eben remained where he was, wanting to chase after but unable to make himself move.

When Donan reached their travel cart, Brother Ezri, who had driven them, pulled the old man up. Both turned, giving Eben a wave, but then Ezri cracked the whip, steering the nags that pulled the vehicle down a road which ran parallel to the castle walls. The horses and monks were soon lost from Eben’s tunnel-restricted sight, leaving him to stare at the last spot they had been.

I forgot to wave.

“Do you require a moment?” Felipe asked from behind him.

“No,” Eben said, wiping his eyes. He wanted to peek at the guards again, to see if they noticed his tears, but instead, he tried to hold his head high as he turned. “I’m fine.”

Felipe nodded, pivoting on his heel. “Then let us be off.”

Eben picked up his bag from where he had dropped it when hugging Donan and fell into step behind the noble.

They quickly reached the end of the arch, entering the open space that the huge wall and gate protected. People abounded, a few dressed as plainly as Eben, but most wore dyed tunics and pants, or dresses, looking like colorful swans as they moved about their business. Even more impressive were the buildings: all of stone and all built with a mason’s perfection. Eben was numbed by the magnitude of it all. He counted three different prayer halls and two full stables in just a handful of blocks! It quickly became apparent that this noble House was actually a city unto itself, and a large one at that. If Eben hadn’t been so saddened by Donan’s sudden departure, he would have laughed aloud at the enormity of it all.

“How was your journey?” Felipe asked with a backward glance as they made their way through the bustling streets.

“Fine,” Eben replied, as he head swiveled side to side, taking in the many sights and sounds. “Long.”

“It’s good that you arrived when you did,” the young noble said. “You will have plenty of time to get settled and cleaned, and even rest if you wish, before the greeting ceremony tonight.”

“Greeting ceremony?” Eben asked, moving closer so as not to miss the details.

Felipe’s head bobbed. “While the Festival House Kale has prepared for the morrow will be of breathtaking grandeur and beyond compare, a special gathering has been scheduled for this evening.” The noble’s scarf twisted as he looked over his shoulder again. “Something for just you and your kind.”

“My brothers and sisters?” Eben said, his excitement spiking.

Filipe seemed to frown, but he turned away before Eben could be sure. “Indeed.” The noble said more after that, about the quarters he was escorting Eben to and the nearby baths, but Eben lost the words, caught up in his own thoughts.

After all of this time, all of his waiting, it was finally, finally happening.

Tonight I meet my family!