Inheritance
Oct. 15th, 2011 12:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thulcandranShe gave him the lamp one morning, wrapped in canvas, very carefully. "It was your father's," she told him. "I promised him that I would give it to his son when he grew old enough. Your brother, of course, will receive the ring when he comes of age."
He nodded. "They were all of it, weren't they? His riches, the palace, all of his luck and you, and the elephants... the lamp and the ring."
"All of it. They brought danger, too-- never forget that, my son. There is nothing without a price, especially nothing as great as this lamp, or your brother's ring."
Nodding again, Xi touched the canvas softly, reverently. "His uncle, wasn't it? Who tried to kill him for the lamp. And then the Grand Vizier, your father's advisor..."
His mother, normally so calm and gentle, pressed her lips together. "Both of them, yes. But it could not all have been, without his own spirit. I loved your father, I always loved him, but remember that his arrogance and carelessness were as often close to bringing doom-- and mine, I will admit-- as the jealous enemies he made. There was a ploy, I was told to ask him for the Egg of the Roc. There was no reason for it, really. It was sheer jealousy, arrogance, foolish pride, that led us there. Had he not been led thus by his uncle, that would have been the end of both of us. But the spirit knew, and told us the truth about the Roc..."
She trailed off.
"Mother?"
"You are not invincible, my son. The lamp is a powerful tool, and the spirit within it can protect you from most dangers - but only if you ask. Do not mistake power for greatness; do not mistake impossibilities for miracles; do not, above all, be a fool."
Xi nodded. He had heard this often, before, but he never grudged his mother her speeches. They were all of them based in things that had happened to his father, once upon a time. All of them could happen to him.
He took the lamp, bowed deeply to his mother, and left the house, for the last time as its prince, to make his way in the world.
The road was empty, open, inviting, as he walked down-- his steps bouncing, his spirits light. He whistled a tune as he went, something he'd made up on the spot. He had his own magic lamp under one arm, given him by his father; it was all the inheritance he needed.
He nodded. "They were all of it, weren't they? His riches, the palace, all of his luck and you, and the elephants... the lamp and the ring."
"All of it. They brought danger, too-- never forget that, my son. There is nothing without a price, especially nothing as great as this lamp, or your brother's ring."
Nodding again, Xi touched the canvas softly, reverently. "His uncle, wasn't it? Who tried to kill him for the lamp. And then the Grand Vizier, your father's advisor..."
His mother, normally so calm and gentle, pressed her lips together. "Both of them, yes. But it could not all have been, without his own spirit. I loved your father, I always loved him, but remember that his arrogance and carelessness were as often close to bringing doom-- and mine, I will admit-- as the jealous enemies he made. There was a ploy, I was told to ask him for the Egg of the Roc. There was no reason for it, really. It was sheer jealousy, arrogance, foolish pride, that led us there. Had he not been led thus by his uncle, that would have been the end of both of us. But the spirit knew, and told us the truth about the Roc..."
She trailed off.
"Mother?"
"You are not invincible, my son. The lamp is a powerful tool, and the spirit within it can protect you from most dangers - but only if you ask. Do not mistake power for greatness; do not mistake impossibilities for miracles; do not, above all, be a fool."
Xi nodded. He had heard this often, before, but he never grudged his mother her speeches. They were all of them based in things that had happened to his father, once upon a time. All of them could happen to him.
He took the lamp, bowed deeply to his mother, and left the house, for the last time as its prince, to make his way in the world.
The road was empty, open, inviting, as he walked down-- his steps bouncing, his spirits light. He whistled a tune as he went, something he'd made up on the spot. He had his own magic lamp under one arm, given him by his father; it was all the inheritance he needed.