The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (95 page)

“No son, it is not. That is one of the Goddesses, but I cannot remember her name. It was long before I met your mother, long, long before.” I tossed a cloth over it, over the woman that I had been damned for loving, and her for loving me. One that I would never
again
know the name of, bu
t maybe I would find it, someday.

“She is beautiful, can we meet her?”

“I do not know, son. Perhaps, if I can find her.”

“Tell me more about Mooncrest, and Gwenne, dada.”

“Tomorrow son, I promise, tomorrow.” I carried my son back upstairs. “I will tell you everything I know of Gwenneth Lazlette, the Staff of Imoch, and the Tower of Carrados and…”

He was asleep again, in his room, under the moons. I slept next to him, guarding him carefully
in the night
, and watching his every little breath. He was my reason to live, to carry on in a mortal life, and he was my most valued treasure. All that had been good, pure, and of value in me, was now in my son. I told him sto
ries, true tales
of the Gods above and their heroes here
on the ground
. I had no history of honor, of chivalry, or of selfless sacrifice to pass on to him. Those experiences never graced me, in all my years. But, I knew of others
,
far away that I had met, and I hoped he would learn from them
, as I had. T
he hardest
and most humbling thing for me to admit as a father, was that I hoped my son would not turn out to be
like
me
.

“
Good night son, sweet dreams.”
I whispered as my eyes teared, just a bit.

“
Good night dada,
I love you.
”
His little hand curled in mine
, and I felt again the reason to live
.
“
Thank you for
all
the stories.
”

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