Chapter Text
"Make sure you're polite."
"Remember to bow da'len, properly too!"
"Don't speak until she does, and only if she asks you a question. Mylla was lucky Mythal was in a good mood that year…"
Valen, like all of the farmer children, was to be claimed by Mythal. He had recieved plenty of advice, from his mother, from an older farmhand who worked the bones from chicken carcasses while her fingers still worked, from the paranoid man who's daughter passed two winters ago, from anyone and everyone.
He was the only child to be born during his birth year, and as such he would be the only child being put in front of the Evanuris today. His parents would stand with him, but they would not interfere. Or at least, they were meant to stand with him. It was neither their fault nor his that they had fallen ill enough to be unable to make the journey to the city, but in truth Valen had known his parents would find a way to miss this day. They barely celebrated his birthday, only verbally acknowledged it, after all. Why would they care for his claimday?
Valen played with the spherical puzzle the escort had lent him for the journey, the carriage ride not unpleasant but still long enough that most children grew bored for the duration. Valen, absently, wondered if this carriage was meant to accommodate more than one child, or if the Evanuris already knew that there was only one child the farmlands would offer this year. He didn't think to ask the escort, seeing no sense in the idea when she had a needle swooping through cloth. Her needlework was impressive, at least.
Well, it was probably impressive enough. He was only ten, after all, and the only needlework Valen had done was mending clothes to be serviceable. Next year he would get to help with leatherworking though, and maybe that would help with his understanding of what impressive needlework might be.
When the carriage came to a stop Valen had solved the sphere puzzle thrice over, and the sun had crested far past the initial sliver over the horizon that had bid him and his escort farewell. While there were no horses for him to pet, there were plenty of tall buildings and glass windows for Valen to gawk at. Momentarily, of course. He was a responsible child, and he kept up with the woman in front of him well despite the urge to look at everything around him.
The ceremony would be held in one of the smaller ritual rooms, Mylla's father had told him that before his glassy eyed stare had ended that conversation. Valen had heard from another child, one a scant three years older than him, that Mylla had had only two other children with her for her marking ceremony. Valen wondered if they had different sized rooms just for how many children they would be marking. Probably, the building he stood in certainly seemed big enough for such a concept.
The escort said nothing to him, only stretching a hand out for the puzzle, which Valen dutifully handed back, before she knocked upon a great door. Valen was trying rather hard not to notice too many things, as he knew that responsible he may be, he was also prone to getting distracted by pretty, intricate things.
He did not want to be the cause of his village's descent into ashes.
The door opened, and after a brief moment the woman moved forward. Valen followed her once more, step faltering only once as he realized the main head of the Evanuris sat before him. All but Fen'Harel, Valen noticed, right before he lowered his gaze and bowed in almost-sync with the woman beside him.
"Only one?" A man's voice said, solemn and reminding Valen of the soft wind that would sometimes blow through the fields at early morning. "Dasreya, were there no others?"
Valen went stiff as he realized just who exactly his escort was; one of the newest additions to the middle ranks of the Evanuris.
"No, my lord. Just the one, and her parents were very… vocal about being unable to make the trip." Dasdreya said, hands folded in front of her.
"Unwilling? Or frail?" Another man's voice, this time far more regal despite the edge of concern.
"The former, Lord Elgar'nan. Though they gave a rather passionate performance at the latter." Desdreya replied.
"She doesn't look the troublemaking type…"
"Aye, perhaps a bit stiff but she did curtsy very well."
"Mm, promising form too… Her hair could use a trim though."
"You assume Mythal won't just send her back to the fields. What need has she for a haircut?"
"Enough," A sigh, enamored and controlled. "You may meet our eyes, little one."
Valen did so, meeting Mythal's gaze first. It was hard not to, with her beauty only being outshined by her grace.
"What's your name, da'len?"
Valen opened his mouth, only hesitating as he realized he would have to say the wrong one. The one he held only because he had to, not because he wanted to. He spoke it, the name his mother called him and his father yelled across the field when he was needed.
"What a lovely name… But it isn't really yours, is it?"
Valen froze, unsure of how to answer. How did she know? Surely, here in the capital city they were more accepting of… whatever was different with him, but what if they were cold to him too?
Yet none of the Evanuris looked angry with him, or at the implications of Mythal's words.
"I like Valen better, Lady Mythal." He said, his voice low even as he attempted to smash. at the anxiety welling within him. Mythal smiled at him, gaze so kind that Valen ached from her expression. No one had ever looked at him like that, like he was something to be loved— to be adored.
"A boy, then?" The Evanuris beside her asked, Elgar'nan.
Valen had seen the sun in many forms; cresting above the horizon in the early winter, high above his head as he worked in the summer heat, sunbeams painting his room aglow in the spring afternoon, blinding, kind, warm.
He had never seen the sun in such beauty as he did in the form of Elgar'nan. His beauty was bright and all-encompassing, and Valen was but a child before a heavenly body made flesh, staring with wide eyes.
"Oh dear, they're definitely going to fight over who gets the da'len. Wonderful."
"Ah, you're probably right June..."
"Hush you two, or we'll be here longer than we have to be."
Elgar'nan's eyebrow raised, and Valen hurried to remember where his tongue must go in order for words to be shaped properly.
"Yes, Lord Elgar'nan." Valen said, swallowing nervously as Elgar'nan turned to look at Mythal beside him. There were no words exchanged between them, and the silence in the room slowly grew into something smothering. Valen feared he would choke on it until Mythal rose from her seat, sweeping her robes behind her as she walked forward. As she knelt in front of him Valen could smell jasmine and something wintery and cold. It was pleasant, much like her smile.
"Tell me, Valen, do your parents treat you well?" Mythal asked, her hand coming up to smooth his uneven bangs out of the way.
"I guess so? I have a bed and they feed me, so… probably." Valen said, shrugging. They had never raised a hand against him, but they were awfully bad at keeping a conversation going.
"The bare minimum?"
"Even I know that children require more than that…"
"Oh creation, if even our Ghilan'nain understands that bit then I think…"
Mythal's hands on his face redirected his focus away from the other Evanuris and back towards her.
"Do you want to stay with them?"
Valen shrugged, feeling soft, cold lines of what could only be magic threading across his cheeks and nose. He squirmed in place, trying hard not to scrunch up his face too much as Mythal gave him her mark. It didn't hurt, but it did feel odd and foreign. Even with the small bursts of magic Valen had done over the recent months, it had never felt like this.
"There, all done. You look wonderful, Valen." Mythal said, her smile so very warm.
"Thank you, Lady Mythal." Valen said, smiling wider than he had in weeks.
"Of course, my dear. Tell me, do you wish to stay here instead of going back to your parents?" Mythal asked. Valen's smile faltered, an unsure scrunch of his eyebrows replacing the earlier expression.
"I… Well, here is nicer, but the farmlands always need every hand we can get. I don't want to put my responsibilities onto anyone else if they don't need to be."
Mythal hummed, eyeing him for a moment.
"If another was sent to your village would that make it easier?"
Valen blinked, thinking about it. It depended on a lot of things, like if the new farmhand worked well with orhers, if they knew anything about farming, and lots of other things, but… Mythal was a grown up and an Evanuris; she definitely would make sure the new person was a good fit.
"It would, yes."
"Then it shall be done. Come, we'll see to where you'll be staying from now on. And while we're at it we can get you some new clothes." Mythal said, offering him her hand as she stood. Valen smiled once more, taking her hand with reverence. The corners of Mythal's eyes crinkled as she looked down at him, her smile softer but no less real.