Chapter Three
Notalus
The Prince of Tir an Fhomhair, and Treasure of the Harvest
Notalus stood on the balcony overlooking his courtyard, his chest full of pride as he watched his son, Theodor, practice with his sparring coaches.
Notalus’ son was by far his greatest accomplishment and the rightful heir to Tir an Fhomhair, the Realm of Autumn.
Theodor fought five men at once, never breaking a sweat as he moved his strong body with the precision and speed of a viper.
His hip-length whiskey-and-copper-colored tresses caught on the wind he summoned as he propelled three of his attackers several feet into the air.
Notalus nodded with fatherly approval when his son quickly bested the last two with their bared throats at the sharp end of his sword, which glistened bronze in the day’s light.
Cheers and applause rose from the small crowd of male and female admirers who’d stopped to watch their prince in action.
Notalus added in his praise along with the others, and as he did, the crowd faced him and bowed with respect before turning back to his son.
Theodor was a man who was loved by all, respected and admired by the patrons of their world but greatly feared by their enemies.
At almost two thousand years old, Notalus was ready to pass on his kingdom to his heir and live his final years as a contented titan with his beloved consort like his brother, Adres.
It was to be their reward after millennia of servitude.
Once the sparring practice was over, his son and the men all clasped forearms and patted each other on the backs for a job well done.
Notalus summoned his son to his quarters, watching as he received blessings and kisses from the people nearby as he made his way toward his private balcony.
And like the show-off that he was, Theodor stooped into a crouched position and began to swirl his hands around in a full circle and used the wind to lift him the fifteen stories to Notalus’ landing, where he dropped down in front of him with a booming thud.
Notalus shook his head. “Since you were young, I could never get you to use the door like a disciplined man.”
“Why, when I am not just a man?” Theodor chuckled. “I’m the prince of an element… should I not use it to impress? Did you see the crowd that gathered down there? My bed should be plenty warm tonight.”
Notalus walked them into the guest sitting room, nodding at a couple of his servants as they placed overflowing trays of fresh fruits, cheese, and wine before them on the table.
Theodor removed his emerald robe and armor, then made himself comfortable on the couch to enjoy their food.
Notalus sat in the tufted high-back chair opposite his son and watched him as he devoured their evening crudité.
“You look troubled, Father,” Theodor said around a mouthful of prosciutto and dried dates. “How can I help?”
Notalus rubbed his hand over his brow. “Well, first thing you can do is stop bedding all of these random bed warmers and choose a proper prince consort. I swear you have a bit too much of your mother’s passion inside of you.”
His son wiped his hands on the cloth napkin and looked at Notalus with more concern.
“I am not even three hundred years of age yet… do you really think it pressing I take a wife or husband now? You claim you’re ready for me to rule this kingdom, but here you sit…
” Theodor cocked his head to the side. “Alone. Your warrior brother, Adres, tragic as his life was, is now happily mated and settled with a home on one of Earth’s mountain realms, with a handsome consort of his own—”
“Adres is a unique circumstance. A titan turned vampire, his mind cut off and lost to his western realm.”
“Yet, he persevered.”
“That he did.” Notalus nodded solemnly.
“Father, you need to venture out for a while. You stay in your quarters, or if you’re not alone inside, then you’re in the fields with the farmers.”
“And when was the last time you put your hands in the soil and encouraged new harvest? It is your birthright to inherit the autumn, but you should not receive it begrudgingly.”
“Father. When was the last time you visited with your titan brothers? It is rumored that Boraleashe’s icy heart may be thawing in his older age,” his son said tightly.
Notalus remembered him and his three brothers being summoned to the Volkov stronghold in the White Mountains by Adres’ distressed wind almost a year ago.
That was the last time he’d seen Boraleashe, and Zapherali as well.
And since that day, Notalus had been confined to his kingdom, bewildered and hesitant about the feelings he’d experienced while there.
It wasn’t forbidden for a titan or a god to take a human lover, but it was very ill-advised.
Mortals were delicate beings, and their deaths were inevitable.
Notalus had zero intentions of taking a consort that would die well before him and leave him desolate and depressed.
Notalus sighed. Though Theodor was right.
He needed to get out, or soon, their people would gossip and whisper on the condition of their lord.
“Maybe I’ll go to Boraleashe’s home and visit with him.
I’ll be sure to wear the heavier robes. For some reason, Reimse an Gheimhridh has gotten many degrees colder than in the past years.
Boraleashe has always preferred the Realm of Winter be freezing enough to discourage visitors. ”
“No doubt a reflection of his true nature.” Theodor scoffed but hastily changed the subject from Boraleashe when Notalus gave him a closer inspection. “The gardens around the quarter are looking especially beautiful this year. I heard you’ve been tending to them yourself.”
“I have.”
“Father. We have countless lord-hands to tend to your harvest so that you do not have to.”
“But I want to.” Notalus smiled. “The quarter gardens was where I met and fell in love with your mother, Theo. They hold a certain nostalgic healing for me.”
“Mother adores the gardens too. It doesn’t stop her from sharing her joy of it with her tenth new husband.”
Notalus pfft’d at the comparison. “Son, your mother is a celestial goddess of passion. Of course it doesn’t take her long to find another love. She’s the personification of attraction.”
Theodor stood and touched him in the center of his back, his heavy hand comforting through his thick shawl.
“Mother performed her duties and gave you an heir. She raised me to be a good man and a strong titan. Now she’s happy to live her life as she deserves.
” Theodor held their eye contact. “You deserve it too, Father.”
“Thank you, son. I will take your advice under consideration.”
“Please do.” Theodor stood to his full seven-foot height and slung his robe back around his shoulders. “I have a meeting with Lord Martus and his delegates in a little while to discuss expanding the kingdom into the Kinineau Coastal gardens, so I’ll see you for dinner.”
Notalus and the court already treated Theodor as if he was the Lord of Tir an Fhomhair because heaven knows that he’d already assumed a majority of the duties of that title.
Notalus never undermined his son’s authority nor debated his policies.
Theodor only needed Notalus’ full support, and that’s what he got.
Therefore, not much was expected of Notalus now that wasn’t ceremonial, and after a couple of millennia, he was more than ready to pass on his throne and enjoy the seasons in peace like everyone else.