Oblivioni Traditae

Thaein shouldn’t have been at the cliffside. He was supposed to be back in the city by now, lying in the gutter, besotted. He’d had a long day of dragging prisoners, drunkards, and thieves around, and just wanted to drown out their yelling in a large pint of Myrtle’s honeyed ale. So why was he staring at a boy, no more than 12, lying on his stomach at the cliff’s edge? Though dirty and plain, his clothes were fine.

Some brainless noble boy who snuck away from his evening lessons.

Now Thaein would have to play the ever-loyal soldier who would take him home. Becoming the family’s savior for all of ten seconds and a copper piece. Not exactly his favorite type of role-playing.

One lousy copper for the return of a cheeky lad who’s bored by his mathematics lessons.

Not that Thaein could knock the boy for that, mathematics wasn’t his strongest suit, either.

“Oi, boy. Move away from there before you fall and cause me more grief.”

The boy’s dark hair fluttered as his head hung off the edge. He did not move.

“Do you know why these cliffs have no name?”

Thaein paused for a moment. Was this boy really more concerned over the cliff’s namesake than his own life?

“No. Now move away before I drag you myself.”

“I don’t think you’d come that close to the edge,” the boy lifted his head to look at Thaein, before dropping back down to stare at the waves. “You’d be too afraid to fall.”

“Yer damn right I’m afraid to fall, you should be frightened as well. Now. Move away.”

Thaein was losing his patience, not that he’d had much to start with in the first place.

“That’s why they don’t name them, you know.”

“What?”

“The cliffs. That’s why they have no name. People are too afraid to name something that’s killed so many people.”

“The cliffs don’t kill people. People kill people. Now move away from there lest you kill yerself.”

The boy turned to Thaein, a gentle smile played across his face. He swiftly rolled onto his back and pulled a small leather journal from his front pocket. The journal was small, dyed black, and well loved.

“I’ve been coming to these cliffs for the last fortnight. No one ever comes here.”

“You ever think there was a reason for that? Come on now, yer parents are probably angry that you’ve skipped out on yer lessons or whatnot.”

The boy was quiet once more. He held the pages of the book down with his thumbs, his grip tight on the worn leather and parchment.

“You’re testing my patience, boy. Come here so I can take you home. I’ve got plans for my night, and I’d rather not be stuck out here with an impudent little brat all night.”

“Do you have children?”

“No, I don’t have children, now will you come along?”

“I didn’t think you did, you don’t seem to know how to talk to children.”

A sigh heaved its way from Thaein’s chest. It didn’t seem as though the boy had any intention of moving away from his imminent demise.

Probably thinks it's funny that he can get away with disobeying a soldier’s orders and ruining my night. Shitty spoiled nobility.

“I’m not going to go home, you know. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to go home? Why on Earth not?”

The boy closed the book and laid it on his chest. He lifted his gaze to Thaein’s once more and slowly looked over Thaein’s person.

“Don’t be offended, but I don’t quite think you have it in you to understand.”

“Look boy, frankly I don’t care why you don’t want to go home. All I care about is the fact that you’re going to go home. If I have to drag you the whole way there, I will, but yer going home.”

The boy heaved a small sigh of his own, and stood up, lightly brushing the dirt and grass from his clothes. His small hands fiddled with the book, turning it over and over again. His voice was small when he spoke next, almost drowned out by the waves below him and the wind swirling around him.

“Give the book to my mother. Please. She won’t understand.”

Thaein’s heart ached with an indescribable tightening. His voice softened to match the boys.

“How about you hand it over to her yerself, yeah? I’m sure she’ll be awful happy to see you.”

The boy’s eyes shut as his smile widened, “Maybe you do know how to talk to kids after all.”

His arm flung out towards Thaein, throwing the small journal at his feet. Thaein bent down swiftly to pick it up, his hair was thrown into his eyes and mouth from the wind. He gripped the book gently in his hand and straightened to look at the boy once more.

“Come now, this seems to mean an awful lot to you. You shouldn’t just throw it around like - “

The boy was gone. The book dropped to the grass as Thaein ran to the cliff’s edge and peered over. Misty white waves pounded the rocky shoreline of the cliffs. A few small clumps of dirt and rock tumbled off the edge by Thaein’s feet, hurtling towards the sea.

By the time Thaein moved from the cliff’s edge, the sun was well past the horizon. His feet felt heavy as they moved back to the book. His legs collapsed and he sat looking at the place where the boy had been.

I didn’t get his name. Who am I to tell? How do I notify his family?

His hand rested on the journal. He picked it up and ran his thumb along the spine. It looked awfully small in his large hands. He softly flipped it open. The interior leather had been inscribed.

Gifted to Leo Thomas An Bron on this the 23rd of May upon his 11th birthday.

“May knowledge, curiosity, and adventure be ever present throughout the journey of your life.” - Thomas Adair An Bron

The pages were filled with drawings of the cliff, the grass, trees, and small weeds. Notes filled up the rest. The last entry was dated a fortnight past.

“The cliffs have no name. A shame for such a calming place to be left nameless and forgotten. Papa says all things of beauty must be named, so that we may show our love to God’s creations. I’ve decided to name the cliffs Oblivioni Traditae. The waves that break against the bottom of the Oblivioni Traditae are enrapturing. It is easy to see how so many people have been killed by them.”

*~*

By the time Thaein found the An Bron residence it was well past midnight. The streets were empty, and few lanterns were lit to guide his path. He made his way up the steps to the door of the sprawling home. The iron gate creaked from where it had been left open. Thaein knocked three times on the large doors at the front of the house. A tall man pulled one of the doors open and peered out at Thaein.

“Lord An Bron?”

“I am Lord An Bron. May I inquire as to why you are disturbing my sleep?

Lord An Bron was thin, and had round spectacles that sat on the bridge on his nose. He glowered at Thaein. His hair was dishevelled and his eyes were glassy from his obvious exhaustion.

“Lord An Bron, I have word of yer son, Leo.”

The exhaustion disappeared from Thomas An Bron’s face immediately.

“Where is he, where is my son? Is he alright?”

Thomas threw the door open and leaned around Thaein in hopes of seeing his boy standing behind him.

“Sir, I believe this is something better discussed inside,” Thaein handed the small black journal over to Thomas, who took it with a shaking hand.

“Where did you get this, Leo wouldn’t have given it over to anyone. It was his prized possession. "

The door shut behind Thaein with a heavy clang. The house was dark and silent.

“Is Lady An Bron home, I believe you should both hear what I’m about to say.”

Thaein left An Bron manor in the early hours of the morning. His pockets were twenty thousand silver heavier, the reward for finding the missing young An Bron lord. He made his way past the iron gate and out onto the cobblestone street. The sounds of Lady An Bron's wailing filled his ears and bounced off the nearby buildings in the early hours of the morning. He moved down the paved streets to the dirt alleyways, right to the small pub on a dingy, dimly lit corner in the skeeviest part of the city.

Myrtle was sitting at a table, talking with some patrons who hadn’t left from the night before when the door creaked open.

“Thaein, why are ye here so early? Shouldn’t ye be on patrol?”

Thaein took a seat at the bar, the clanging silver in his pocket catching Myrtle and the other two patrons’ attention.

“Myrtle, you’ve never looked so beautiful in all yer life.”

Myrtle stood up from the table, and moved to the other side of the counter.

“Thaein, whaddya need, boy?”

“A pint of honeyed ale.”