Xenos of Soutter
L’Astra, Capital City
It was summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Across Asandra, people gathered at temples to worship and celebrate the summer gods.
At the Capital Temple, the crowd stretched into the square. Families and friends sat together, children raised on the shoulders of older family members. Street vendors called out to sell food and drinks. Music played from the orchestra of instruments, with people dancing in the middle of the square. The celebration lasted until sunset.
The music stopped, and a figure rose to the dais in the front of the temple. All eyes turned to the dais, as if drawn to the person standing on it.
It was the realm’s Mage, Percipa.
She stood before the twelve statues of the realm’s gods, wearing dark purple robes and a half-veil that revealed only her eyes. In her right hand was the golden staff that signified the magical rule of the realm.
People looked at her eagerly. She struck the dais three times with her staff, the sound vibrating across the whole square.
Her eyes glowed gold. When she spoke, her voice was not loud but was amplified with magic. It carried through the temple, into every ear, as if the gods themselves whispered alongside her.
“Prophecy states: the next successors are chosen. Xenos of Soutter, age thirteen, born to blacksmiths. To be crowned Liege. Kellian of Nirela, age fourteen, born to jewelers. To be crowned Realm’s Mage. Twelve years of training beside the current Liege and Mage. Twelve years until the summer solstice crowns them both.”
The crowd was silent for a few seconds before bursting into cheers and applause.
The gods had spoken. The realm’s prosperity would continue through another generation. The gods had promised through their chosen rulers.
Percipa scanned the square. The golden glow in her eyes dimmed. Under her veil, a small smile graced her lips. Then she stepped down from the dais without another word.
The celebration continued. People danced and sang, feasted and drank, until the sun set and the statues of the twelve gods cast long shadows in the solstice sun.
Land of Soutter, North Holdings
Xenos slung his bow on his back, then bent down to grab the bird he had struck with his arrow. It was a precise shot; the bird did not struggle before its death. He murmured a quiet “thank you” under his breath before walking out of the forest back to his home.
“Where were you wandering today, boy?” That was the first thing his father said as he walked into the house.
His eyes landed on the bow and arrows peeking out behind Xenos, squinting. “Playing with your coward’s toys again? When will you grow?” Xenos liked using bows and slingshots, but to northerners, these were weapons of the cowardly, always lesser than weapons of close combat.
“I was hunting,” Xenos replied, handing the bird to his father. With disapproving eyes, his father grabbed the bird and walked into the kitchen. “Always doing worthless things, you are.”
Xenos scoffed. “Should’ve just eaten that bird on my own,” he muttered.
He went into the room he shared with his younger brother, shoved his bow and arrows under his bed, then pulled out his pouch and sat on the corner of his bed where the sunlight still reached through the window. He emptied the contents onto his bed, the coins rattling against each other. Ten coppers—what he’d earned that day.
His family were blacksmiths and miners, the most common trades in the north holdings of Asandra. When he had refused to apprentice under his mother in forging weaponry—unlike his older brother who was now a blacksmith on his own, and his younger brother learning at the age of ten—his family deemed him rebellious and useless.
Xenos liked quiet. He couldn’t stand the loud clanging of metal being beaten. He did not want to work under the scrutiny of judging eyes. Above all, he knew that even if he walked the path chosen for him, he would still face disapproving looks.
Never enough. Nothing I do for them is ever enough.That was what he had learned at an early age. Xenos had convinced himself he did not care about their opinions anymore.
He was doing fine on his own. He just had to save for a few more years before he could afford to go to the academy.
He took out a leather pouch from his trunk and poured out its contents along with the ten coppers from that day. He counted them and stacked them into piles, looking at them proudly. Three more years, and he could afford his schooling at the Academy of Services. He stared out the window. Three years felt so long. The pride in his chest was replaced by hopelessness and anxiety.
Loud laughter from outside pulled him from his thoughts. His brothers and mother were home.
He stuffed the coins into his leather pouch, wrapped it in a rag, and shoved it back into his trunk, which snapped shut just as the bedroom door opened. His younger brother, Xetan, sauntered in, grinning at him.
“Guess what I did today?” Before Xenos could answer, he continued, “I made my first sword!” He exclaimed loudly. Xenos flinched at the volume of his voice.
“Good for you,” he replied.
“I’m better than you, ha! You couldn’t even make one,” Xetan said smugly.
“Because I did not want to.”
“Mama said it’s not too late if you want to learn. Maybe I could teach you some things I’ve learned.” Xetan was smirking.
Xenos took a deep breath, then ignored his younger brother and walked out of the room.
He had enough sins as it was. He wouldn’t add to the list by smacking his family’s favorite child.
Dinner was the same as usual. His father had cooked the bird he brought home, and the table was filled with chatter from his brothers.
There was a knock at the door. “Who could that be?” his mother asked. “Did you invite anyone over again without informing us?” She looked at her oldest son, who shook his head.
“Nah, I did not.” The eldest son nudged Xenos, who was biting into a potato. “Xenos, check who’s at the door.”
He stood up, taking the potato with him, and opened the door. On the other side stood a man in a tunic with the longest beard Xenos had ever seen. He held a staff in one hand. Behind him were two younger men—one holding an oil lamp, the other holding the reins of two horses.
“Greetings. I am looking for Xenos of Soutter, son of blacksmiths,” the man said.
“Me?” Xenos asked, taking another bite of the potato. There was nothing more marvelous in this world than a hot baked potato. “What do you need me for?”
The man looked down at the young boy in front of him and smiled.
“I am delivering the prophecy from the gods. Xenos of Soutter, you have been chosen as the next successor to Her Grace, Liege Kasha.”
Xenos’s eyes widened. “Are you sure you have the right person?” he asked in disbelief.
Before the man could answer, Xenos’s father walked up behind him. “Who is it, boy?”
“Greetings, sir. I am the palace messenger,” the man said again.
“Messenger? From the palace?” His father pulled Xenos out of the way, urging the man inside. “Please, come in and have a seat. What brings you here?”
Xenos was still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. The next thing he knew, his family was all seated in the living room along with the messenger.
“Our son is to be the future Liege!” his father exclaimed, clapping him on the back.
“Yes, and if Xenos accepts the prophecy, he will be escorted to the capital city, L’astra, to be educated alongside his Mage for twelve years until his crowning,” the messenger explained.
“And what if I do not accept?” Xenos asked, purely curious. He had no intention of rejecting, especially when he heard the word “educated.”
His mother and father both shot glares at him, as if he had said something offensive and crude. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Then the Mage will seek guidance from the gods again, and they will choose another pair of successors,” the messenger responded patiently.
“And if I reject, my Mage would not be able to lead with another Liege?”
“Precisely. Like the song we all know:Our rulers come in pair. Two crowns worn, one realm to bear." The messenger smiled as he chanted the rhyme.
Xenos stood. “Alright, I accept the prophecy. When do we leave?” he asked.
The messenger stood as well. “Tomorrow at sunrise. You can pack your things and bid farewell to your family. We will be here at the first ray of sun.”
They bid farewell and left Xenos’s home.
The family sat back at the dinner table. Xenos felt the air in the room change. His father was looking at him with a smile—an expression he had never seen on the man’s face directed at him. His mother, who was usually focused on his two brothers, started putting more potatoes on his plate, along with the leg of the roasted bird.
It was not a strange thing, what they were doing. It was just strange that it was now directed at him.
Xenos shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his seat.
___
The next morning, Xenos woke before the sun rose. He put on his most presentable clothes and slung his bag over his shoulder. The coin pouch inside rattled softly. He slipped out of the house quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. He felt it would be awkward to say goodbye, so he stood outside and waited for the messenger to come.
He was nervous and excited—not because he was leaving home, but because he recalled the two horses he had seen the previous evening. He did not know how to ride a horse, but he was eager to learn.
To his disappointment, he was greeted by the messenger and one of his companion riding horses, and the other handling a carriage.
“Good day, Young Liege.” The messenger dismounted and greeted him.
“Please, call me Xenos.”
“Alright, Xenos. Let me show you where you’ll be traveling.” The messenger guided him to the carriage and opened the door.
“I forgot to ask your names,” Xenos said, smiling sheepishly. He had been referring to the messenger as “the bearded man” in his head.
“I am Meris, the palace messenger.” He pointed to the man handling the carriage. “That is Jesto.” Jesto nodded in greeting. “And that is Juno.” He pointed to the other person, who held the horses.
Xenos greeted them both before climbing into the carriage. “How long will it take to arrive?” he asked Meris.
“Three weeks on the road,” Meris said, closing the carriage door.
As the group started their journey toward L’astra, Soutter grew smaller and smaller behind him until it was just a dot in the distance.
___
On the third day of being in the carriage, Xenos grew bored of sitting and wanted to stretch. He had been eyeing the horses that Meris and Juno rode. They stopped at a village to rest, and Juno went off to purchase supplies.
Xenos walked up to Meris and looked at him expectantly.
“Yes, Xenos?”
“Can you teach me how to ride a horse?” he asked, eyes sparkling as he waited for an answer.
“You will have horse-riding lessons once you arrive at the palace,” Meris said. Before Xenos could take it as a rejection, he added, “But it wouldn’t hurt to learn in advance.”
Xenos grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. “Thank you, Meris! Thank you!” he said happily, then ran toward Meris’s horse.
“Her name is Watta,” Meris said, petting the horse’s mane. “Now remember: do not stand behind a horse, and do not touch anywhere near its hindquarters or back legs.”
Xenos nodded, listening attentively as Meris taught him how to ride.
By the time Juno returned, Xenos was on Watta, the horse walking slowly in circles.
“You have a talent for horses, Young Liege,” Juno said. Xenos smiled shyly.
“Can I ride the horse when we go?” Xenos asked Meris, who shook his head fondly.
“Of course, Xenos. I’ll take the carriage.”
Xenos beamed. By the time they arrived at L’astra’s palace, he would be a master on horseback, he thought to himself.
For the rest of the journey, Xenos spent more time on horseback than in the carriage.
Meris did not complain. The carriage was more comfortable after all.
Author’s Note
Hello, dear readers!
Welcome to the world of Asandra and the story of Xenos and Kellian. This is a slow-burn fantasy romance about two boys chosen by prophecy, forced to train together for twelve years, and the lifetime of wanting that follows.
Just a few notes:
This is a completely fictional world. All names, places, cultures, and magical systems are products of my imagination. Any resemblance to real-world locations, events, or persons is entirely coincidental.
This is a slow burn. Like, really slow. Twelve years slow (I’ve seen slower though). The romance builds gradually, so settle in and enjoy the journey.
The update schedule is yet to be decided. For now, I will post the chapters that I have finished writing and I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Happy reading,
M. Valentin
