A small gust of wind rushed into the hallway when the front door opened, causing the light of the lanterns to flicker and eyes turning towards the hall as the door shut behind the two.
Murmurs were heard in the room at the end of the hall. Shadow danced across the floor caused by the movement from within.
The loud tapping of a cane announced the approach of an elderly man, his posture hunched and weight supported by a finely crafted ivory cane. While the man had aged terribly, his taste in fashion still matched the rich interior of his home. "Mister Dimheim, good that you made it. -Oh? Is that your son?"
"Galen will do just fine. I've told you this many times, Lord Maeron." The guest answered, shrugging the dark, leather coat off and hanging it up on the coatrack."Yes, this is my son, Elias." He glanced down towards the young child beside him.
The boy looked up at his father, then towards the old man, inclining his head respectfully as he had been taught. "Lord Maeron."
The old man's bushy, gray brows furrowed at the sight, but a nod was given to the boy nonetheless, the elder's attention returning to the respected guest. "I wasn't aware you were going to be bringing him here. He's a bit young for this, don't you think?" He studied the boy again "What happened to him?" The man asked, examining the eye-patch and bandages that wrapped around the boy's head to cover the right eye.
Elias frowned at the mention, looking away and up at his father who began to explain "He was attacked a few days prior. We've yet to see if he's been blinded."
Maeron nodded and waved the two inside. "Well, you've not missed much, Galen. We've just been catching up and starting our drinks."
The two were lead into the living room where they were greeted by four other men, each one known and respected in their field of work. Learned men who now gathered to talk about the current events, what was and could be. Asking questions with no answers and debating views.
They turned to study the child that had been dragged along, each one giving their own question to the respected physician as he made his way over to settle down on the couch with the son beside him.
"He may be young, but his mind is sharp." Galen answered, accepting the glass of deep, crimson wine handed to him by one of the young servants that tended to the lord's household. The company seemed skeptic, but politely hid their amused scoffs and slowly returned to their conversation, bringing the new guest into the loop of their discussion.
Young Elias sat between his father and the librarian. The boy knew the man well as he had more than once gone to view the selection of books and more often than not the two would sit together and talk, but this time the learned man was more interested in the rising debate among his peers than acknowledging the boy.
He sighed and Elias' eyes moved to study the others around him. Along side his father and the librarian there was the astronomer and historian.
The four esteemed men looked at the boy with curiosity, mixed with what seemed to be pity - clearly thinking the boy to be out of his element. Though they quickly hid that, trying to appear polite to the elder of Dimheims.
"It is quite a time you chose to bring your son here, Galen" the astronomer said, running a hand through his long, thin beard, one that a he-goat could be jealous of. "We're discussing generations, as it were, to see you bring your heir is an amusing coincidence"
"Coincidences." Galen mused, leaning back into his seat, glancing over to the boy that sat down next to him; the boy keeping himself proper as he placed himself between his father and the other.
"Always been a funny thing to me. I suppose it all depends on what are the chances you'd be discussing such matters as I decide to bring my son to sit with us for the evening." A curious smile found the doctor's lips as he looked over again. "Fill me in on the topic. I'm intrigued."
"Gladly" the historian butted in, earning an irritated glance from the man who spoke before him. "'Tis mostly a discussion between me and lord Caeleb, a point between which is stronger: the sword or the blood. I, for one" the man put a hand on his chest to emphasise his point, "believe that it is the sword - and to put it less philosophically and more verbally, the teachings and trainings, the traditions, if you will, are stronger than any bloodline. 'Tis by them that the lords and stewards ruled with success, while my esteemed colleague claims that it is the blood of eld flowing in their veins that-"
"Allow me" spoke the librarian, his nose upturning in slight annoyance. "My point is that it isn't the martial training, but the destiny of greater ancestors that lead people towards glory and memory. How many do we remember due to their unnatural prowess with the blade, over those who routinely trained each day? Was Isildur able to cut the finger off the Dark Lord by training alone? No, it was the blood of kings that flowed in him and it allowed the deed. No lesser man would, no matter their ability!"
"Perhaps that is so." the historian rebutted, scoffing. "But after that deed, Isildur had disappeared off the world, never to be seen again. His legend lives, yes - but because of that, the throne sits empty and we have no king. No traditions borne down to following generations, for any to replace him!"
"Now, Galen" - lord Maeron interrupted the clearly enthusiastic historian. "What is your take on this?"
Galen sat back, looking between the two as they argued their points. "Hm.." He grasped his chin and idly ran his fingers along the jawline. "Both of you make very good points. Both holds merit and good reason. Though I will have to agree with the former." The doctor finally gave his answer, sparing a glance to his son. "After all, I'm training the boy and I expect that he shall be holding up mine and my father's teachings, the knowledge and further improve on it to teach to his future children." Galen turned to the others again "What good is my blood to the boy if I don't teach him the skills required to continue my practice?"
"Perhaps he wouldn't need as much as any other would." the man said, causing an eye-roll from the historian, though politely when his librarian friend wasn't looking. "Say, Galen, does your son have any prodigal talents? Is he naturally good at what he does?"
The doctor grinned from ear to ear "Of course and I do not say this as his father, but as a teacher as well. Elias has shown potential beyond anything I could have expected. His mind is-..." The man paused, looking at Elias, who looked up at his father in turn. "Unique. His mind is developed far beyond any child I've met." With that, he turned back to the others. "Test his mind, if you wish."
"Oh, what a great idea" the librarian grinned from ear to ear, turning to the boy in question. "Tell us in earnest, boy, what do you think of this conversation?"
Elias looked over to the men, not having been prepared for attention being turned his way. The boy hesitated at the question, looking up at his father in hopes for aid, but none was given.
"I think it's stupid." The young Dimheim finally answered honestly. "Neither holds that much value. Legacy shall change and turn into myth, there is nothing to look up to there and teachings also change. What my great grandfather learned has only so much value today, things have changed and more information has been found. What you are is what you leave behind. Not your father or any other ancestor."
"Hah!" - the historian chuckled, unable to hold the laughter out of politeness after the brutal rebuttal by the child, earning himself an infuriated glare from the librarian - and a disappointed one from the astrologian... with a tingle of amusement in the elder's eyes. "Quite a rebuttal, I admit. Harsh, but honest. Though you would do well to teach your son a little politeness, Galen" the man nodded towards the embarassed and sulking librarian, who crossed the arms on his chest and huffed. "Esteemed Adamir, whether we agree with him or not, deserves respect."
Galen rolled his eyes and shook his head, amused by the child's reply. "He has a few lessons to learn when it comes to socializing. I do apologies if the boy's words were too harsh for your ears." The doctor earned a sheepish look, reaching over to give Elias a quick pat on the back. "But I suppose he makes a good point. We are not our ancestors nor our teachers."
"We aren't, no" said the astrologian, suddenly, with a faint shake of his head. "But would we truly be who we are without either? Were your great-grandfather not as much an esteemed medicine man as he was, boy, would your grandfather and father have as much freedom for some of their more... unorthodox experiments?" at those words, the librarian rose his head again, though it seemed the astrologian wasn't quite done yet. "And without the practice and knowledge those brought, would you know as much as you do now, or would you simply be starting anew, grasping at straws in the haystack that is medical wisdom?"
The boy studied the astrologian, thinking his words over. Galen looked at the child expectantly, waiting to hear his son's answer.
"My great-grandfather wasn't a medicine man, he was an alchemist." Elias started to correct the man, his gaze wandering upwards to the ceiling they sat underneath "Even if none of my fathers had taken interest in medicine and the body, there would still be others who did. Why would I start anew if there have been so many before me? Other men of medicine have written books, library is full of them." He inhaled deeply, looking back to the man who had asked the question. "I'm not bound to learn only what my fathers have learned. The world is full of wisdom for me to find."
"And yet, here you are, studying them. Like you said, if your forefathers were not who they are, you would be different. Do you think their past didn't shape you at all?"
Elias frowned a little as he observed the man and listened. "That wasn't the topic. Your argument is whether sword or blood matters, neither do. You then ask if I would have been helpless with knowledge if my fathers hadn't made their notes. Yes, I would be different, for I wouldn't be raised as I have been now. My past shapes me, as it does any other." Elias muttered, rubbing his wrist across his nose when he felt a small itch. "If my past was different, if my fathers didn't know what they do. I would not be sat here answering your question." The boy paused, reminded of the comment made before "-..Sir" He added politely.
There was a look of pride on Galen as he grinned wide, eyes cast towards the others and his look alone questioning the company whether they understood now why he'd brought the child to join them.
"A fair enough point, Elias Dimheim." said the astrologian, giving the boy's father a nod. Even the sulking Adamir had to show his admiration for the boy's mind with a sagely nod, using that as a good time to drop the pretense and return to the chatter. "What about you, Galen?" - the librarian asked, turning to the elder of Dimheim clan. "What are your thoughts on it?"
Lord Maeron muffled a chuckle at the discussion, accepting another glass of wine from the a servant that was making another round in the room, refilling the men's glasses and putting food on their plates.
Galen patted his son's back again, his hand withdrawing to rest over his lap as he now thought on the topic. "Well..." He started, nodding once before expressing his own thoughts on the matter.
The exchange continued long into the night, with young Elias pitching in with his own thoughts. Over time, the boy visited with his father more often, to sit with these men, argue and debate different points and ideas they've had. It would become a weekly thing in the child's schedule and each time, he felt a little more accepted by his peers.
