The Inheritor of Light

"And so, that is how I met our mysterious fellow: Johnathan Black." Timothy took a sip from a cup he had with him behind the counter.

"So that's how Johnathan got into trouble with Varas."

Timothy almost choked on his drink. "Varas? You mean the Trivaran Prince, Varas?"

"Yes. When he found out who Johnathan was, he tried to have him executed. In fact, that's the reason we came all the way back here."

"It is interesting you say that. Not but two months ago, some more Trivaran's showed up asking around about the others. I'd wondered why some of my regular patrons had finally found the money to pay what they owed me, but, uh, now I know why." He eyed several of the sleeping figures scattered about the room. "However, you said 'once he found out who Johnathan was;' how did he do that, if I might ask?"

Sãra leaned forwards. "It happened when Johnathan took me to the palace. Varas was there, and when Johnathan told him who he was, that's when he tried to get him, Johnathan, executed."

Timothy held up both his hands. "I apologize, but I'm still unsure how all of this came about. All I know is what Johnathan told me, which wasn't too much at all; simply that he was to deliver someone important to Cerenzi. I had assumed you were the daughter of some nobleman or merchant. How do you know the Prince Varas, and why were you traveling to the palace?"

Sãra glanced to her right, then her left, before beckoning with her finger for Timothy to lean in close. "You see . . ." She put her hand up to his ear. "I'm actually Princess Sãra."

Timothy's eyebrows went up. "That fills in some of the missing pieces." He straightened up. "While appreciate your candor, I wouldn't go around telling people that. I may appear to be a kind and gentle soul, but were I so inclined, what you just told me would be worth quite a bit to some of my . . . associates. So, remember." Timothy put a finger to his lips.

Sãra nodded. "Is it alright if I ask you another question?"

"One moment." Timothy turned to fill a flagon before carrying it off to another patron lounging in a chair on the far side of the room.

The man wore a wide-brimmed hat that covered most of his face, but Sãra caught sight of what appeared to be a piece of cloth covering his eyes. He nodded to Timothy and traded tankards with him before returning a hand to the book on the table before him. He lifted his head a little, just enough for Sãra to get the feeling she had been caught. Quickly, she looked back over to Timothy, who had just returned.

"My apologies, while I enjoy talking, I do still have my tavern to run."

"Who's that man over there?" Sãra subtly gestured over to the blindfolded man.

"Him? He is . . . like Johnathan, but different. Of course, he travels much farther than Johnathan does. I wouldn't stare, though. He is not one who likes it when people do that."

"Oh."

Timothy wiped his hands on a rag tucked in his belt. "You said you had another question for me?"

"Yes. During your story, you said that your father was the foreigner, not you. I was wondering where he was from?"

"Quite the number of questions."

Sãra looked down. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so nosy."

"It's fine," Timothy said with a laugh, a large smile growing across his face. "To be honest, most my customers have either heard my stories already or couldn't care less. I am glad to have a willing audience for once. Not to mention one that is so easy on the eyes." He gave a playful wink. "You are correct, though. Both my mother and father were originally from Asyasia. It's a tiny trade city-state off The Great Sea to the northwest in a bay surrounded by large mountains."