Clearly it hadn’t been the cat who had said Hi. Prin was disappointed. He tried to shake it off quickly, as he shifted his focus to this intriguing (vaguely terrifying!?) new development.
“I-I- Why are you sitting here in the dark?” the prince asked. “Were you trying to scare me on purpose?” He hoped he didn’t sound too peevish asking it, he just really wanted to know.
“I don’t even know who you are.” The shadowy figure replied. They stood up from the chair and stretched, all the world like a cat in human skin, and the cat itself half jumped half glided from their lap. All in one smooth movement.
The dark colored sailor style top, went with matching short pants. Although some details were revealed it was still impossible to make out the person’s face from the distance and in this level of darkness.
“If I disturbed you, I’m really sorry.” Prin said, choosing his words as tactfully as possible. “I was assigned to work in here. Which would be helped by some more light. I think . . . I’m going to get a lantern or something and be right back.” He took a step backward through the doorway he had just entered.
“You can open up the curtains, or tell Frances to get the girl to do it.” The figure came towards Prin holding a slim walking stick capped with silver. “I spend a lot of time in here. No one bothers me, since the rest of my family are illiterate and have no use for such places.”
The prince suddenly realized he had left his own walking stick in the kitchen with their luggage, and had completely forgotten to need it. Imagine that.
What could this boy, for he could see now what was an older boy or young man, age indeterminate but perhaps made confusing by the child-like manner of dress, who was as lithe and agile as this, need with a walking stick? To hit people with? Prin had read about young lords who did such things, though he had never personally experienced it. He cringed slightly, preparing to dart out of the line of fire if need be.
The black and grey sailor suit did sort of compliment him in a weird way. If creepy marionette was your aesthetic. He was on the short side and slender, skin the sickly color of thin milk, with a cap of hair not completely yellow after all but more strawberry blond. What should have been an almost too pretty face, was marred by healed scratches, scars, surrounding both eyes as though they had been clawed at, but not recently. That, along with the light colored lashes and eyebrows that almost blended in to nonexistence with the surrounding skin, served to overshadow his other features. The boy’s pale blue eyes, like the lightest water color wash of sky blue, looked at something over Prin’s shoulder.
The prince did not like to think of others who he barely knew in uncharitable terms. But, his initial thought didn’t change a bit as he came closer. This kid was creepy.
“Are you staring at me?” The boy touched his face under his eye lightly with his finger tips, as though he was treating the area gingerly, as though it still hurt, or the memory of it did. “I once had a nervous collapse when I was younger and they had to wrap my hands with rags and restrain me to keep me from doing further damage to myself. My father doesn’t like to talk about it.” He clicked his tongue and the two black cats slinked their way towards him. Identical except one had fluffy hair and one shorter sleek hair. Their green eyes stared at Prin, double sets of will o wisps over the marsh. “I’m better now. Or at least more resigned to my situation.”
After a too long moment, it finally clicked for Prin. “You can’t see anything at all.” It would explain both the eyes that saw deeply into the distant nowhere, and the stick. Maybe he didn’t hit people with it after all. The prince immediately softened towards him, feeling a twinge of regret at anything he might have said or done to offend, real or imagined.
The irony of a blind young man taking solace in a library was not lost on him though.
“Maybe some shapes in the light, on a good day.” The boy waved his hand before him. “I imagine that too will pass, in time.”
“Well, I had better,” Prin motioned behind himself before quickly realizing that it was futile to make gestures when speaking to a blind person. “I mean . . .”
“Hey, how old are you? You sound young. What are you doing here, really? You can tell me.” The young man said. He stopped just a couple of feet away from Prin and poked him with the walking cane. “Stay and answer my questions.” He added firmly.
“I’m seventeen.” The prince said, startled and uncomfortable but not seeing much choice but to comply. Did he put people on the spot like this when he was in his sick bed, desperate for companionship? He didn’t think so, but still, he would show compassion to this lonely boy, in honor of his former self. “I was hired to help the captain, your father? To help him organize the house and this was one of the rooms of concern. There’s nothing deeper going on then that. Umm, what else did you ask me?”
“What’s your name?” the boy asked.
“They call me Prin. What’s your name, and how old are you?” The prince only thought it fair.
“I will be fifteen soon, although the thought of aging another year does nothing for me. They call me Valor.” Valor said. “As much as it doesn’t fit.”
“I don’t know, you seem very brave to me!” Prin said, taking a gamble that such a comment would be pleasing and not just serve to get himself another poke with the sharp end of the stick.
Valor smiled, a tiny crescent moon immerging from behind the clouds. “Can you read? I mean well?”
“Uhh, yes, I think so.” Prin said. “Yes. Very well. Is what I mean by that.”
“Will you read to me?” Valor asked.
“Sure.” Prin said. “Maybe later, after I get some work done for Captain Thompson.”
“No. Now.” Valor said.
The prince wondered if he would get in trouble for not doing the organizing work. However, it didn’t seem wise to disobey the young lord. It didn’t seem like it was even an option.
“I’ll definitely need to get some lights on in here first.” Prin said. A giddy thread of thought wormed its way in behind his ear and he grinned, just for himself. He might be doing a lot of reading in this house.
*
Elwin examined the room. This room didn’t need an organizer, it needed an exorcism. Still, he was grateful for the job. He could work near his prince, and out of the sun and weather. At this point that seemed amazing.
He looked around at the piles and crates full of things everywhere, as far as the eye could see, and decided, maybe he wasn’t particularly suited to this kind of work. He had no idea where to start. Was there even furniture in this room? Somewhere out there, obscured by random items? Elwin lit the oil lamps on the wall near the door, and would have opened the curtains. That is, if he could have gotten to them.
Elwin wondered what the captain’s policy was towards throwing things away. Based on the state of this front room, what should have been the shining example of what was in store for the rest of the house, he figured the policy was, don’t do it.
An old as the hills long wooden trunk called his name from beneath a pile of books and folded cloth. He wasn’t sure if it was the most logical thing to start with but then again, one had to start somewhere, and he was curious what was in it.
Elwin cleared the debris and noticed the trunk had a rusted padlock hanging from it. With a little jiggling it gave way in a crumble of fine red rust. Maybe the trunk was even older than the hills, old as the mountains maybe. Elwin smiled to himself before the sudden thought struck him, were dad jokes contagious? He was too young for dad jokes.
This would have been a lot more fun if he was working in the same room with the prince. Prin would be excitedly leaning over his shoulder, waiting to see what kind of treasure lay within the pirate’s trunk.
Elwin briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, maybe things that a retired pirate has under padlock should stay that way? Recalling a story from one of Prin’s books, he wondered if the old man had the heads of several different wives in here. Well, he already broke the lock, there was nothing for it but to keep moving forward at this point. But believe if he found body parts he would be putting them right back where he got them from and denying he saw a thing. Elwin wasn’t stupid.
He slowly lifted the lid of the old trunk. Inside was rather anticlimactic, what looked like long thin bundles wrapped in canvas, like old ship sails. Elwin lifted the first and smallest of the bundles, it was heavier then expected with the clink of metal inside the canvas. He carefully unrolled the cloth, revealing a pile of daggers some of which had elaborate hilts.
“Nice!” A voice declared, from directly over his shoulder. In fact, it was so close he could feel the expelled breath that came out with the word on the back of his ear.
Elwin dropped the knives to the floor with a small unmanly scream.
“What did you do that for?” The person who had spoken came around to where the daggers were dropped and bent down, picking a few different ones up to examine them closer. She came back up with a dagger in each hand. “The question here is, you go with the one that has the finest blade, or the one – is that gold!?”
The woman was tall, her heeled leather boots pushing her above Elwin himself in height, and striking. She had a mop of black hair, cut uncommonly short, especially for a woman, round eye glasses, and an absolutely wicked smile that was too wide, and a little crooked, but made her seem like great fun at parties.
Her clothes were unusual too, tight grey pants that were tucked into her boots, and a matching grey leather vest over a pale pink shirt with ruffles and a bow at the neck.
“I can’t choose.” She said, tucking the two daggers into her belt. She pointed at the door. “You left it open and were making all this noise. I got curious.”
“Oh.” Elwin said. Was she stealing the daggers? Was it okay? Did she even live here? Elwin was afraid to ask.
“Not much of a talker are ya?” She asked with a chuckle. “I heard you were going to be working here for a while. Wrena is in one of her moods about it. But don’t worry about her.” She winked at Elwin.
“Who? I mean, I’m Elwin.” Elwin said. He felt his cheeks go hot with embarrassment. Why was this woman making him embarrassed? She was the one who snuck up on him, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I know.” She said. “I’m Dru, or you can just call me devil like a lot of people do.” Dru went back toward the door, waving goodbye on her way out. “I bet you wonder why?” She laughed. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”
Clearly it hadn’t been the cat who had said Hi. Prin was disappointed. He tried to shake it off quickly, as he shifted his focus to this intriguing (vaguely terrifying!?) new development.
“I-I- Why are you sitting here in the dark?” the prince asked. “Were you trying to scare me on purpose?” He hoped he didn’t sound too peevish asking it, he just really wanted to know.
“I don’t even know who you are.” The shadowy figure replied. They stood up from the chair and stretched, all the world like a cat in human skin, and the cat itself half jumped half glided from their lap. All in one smooth movement.
The dark colored sailor style top, went with matching short pants. Although some details were revealed it was still impossible to make out the person’s face from the distance and in this level of darkness.
“If I disturbed you, I’m really sorry.” Prin said, choosing his words as tactfully as possible. “I was assigned to work in here. Which would be helped by some more light. I think . . . I’m going to get a lantern or something and be right back.” He took a step backward through the doorway he had just entered.
“You can open up the curtains, or tell Frances to get the girl to do it.” The figure came towards Prin holding a slim walking stick capped with silver. “I spend a lot of time in here. No one bothers me, since the rest of my family are illiterate and have no use for such places.”
The prince suddenly realized he had left his own walking stick in the kitchen with their luggage, and had completely forgotten to need it. Imagine that.
What could this boy, for he could see now what was an older boy or young man, age indeterminate but perhaps made confusing by the child-like manner of dress, who was as lithe and agile as this, need with a walking stick? To hit people with? Prin had read about young lords who did such things, though he had never personally experienced it. He cringed slightly, preparing to dart out of the line of fire if need be.
The black and grey sailor suit did sort of compliment him in a weird way. If creepy marionette was your aesthetic. He was on the short side and slender, skin the sickly color of thin milk, with a cap of hair not completely yellow after all but more strawberry blond. What should have been an almost too pretty face, was marred by healed scratches, scars, surrounding both eyes as though they had been clawed at, but not recently. That, along with the light colored lashes and eyebrows that almost blended in to nonexistence with the surrounding skin, served to overshadow his other features. The boy’s pale blue eyes, like the lightest water color wash of sky blue, looked at something over Prin’s shoulder.
The prince did not like to think of others who he barely knew in uncharitable terms. But, his initial thought didn’t change a bit as he came closer. This kid was creepy.
“Are you staring at me?” The boy touched his face under his eye lightly with his finger tips, as though he was treating the area gingerly, as though it still hurt, or the memory of it did. “I once had a nervous collapse when I was younger and they had to wrap my hands with rags and restrain me to keep me from doing further damage to myself. My father doesn’t like to talk about it.” He clicked his tongue and the two black cats slinked their way towards him. Identical except one had fluffy hair and one shorter sleek hair. Their green eyes stared at Prin, double sets of will o wisps over the marsh. “I’m better now. Or at least more resigned to my situation.”
After a too long moment, it finally clicked for Prin. “You can’t see anything at all.” It would explain both the eyes that saw deeply into the distant nowhere, and the stick. Maybe he didn’t hit people with it after all. The prince immediately softened towards him, feeling a twinge of regret at anything he might have said or done to offend, real or imagined.
The irony of a blind young man taking solace in a library was not lost on him though.
“Maybe some shapes in the light, on a good day.” The boy waved his hand before him. “I imagine that too will pass, in time.”
“Well, I had better,” Prin motioned behind himself before quickly realizing that it was futile to make gestures when speaking to a blind person. “I mean . . .”
“Hey, how old are you? You sound young. What are you doing here, really? You can tell me.” The young man said. He stopped just a couple of feet away from Prin and poked him with the walking cane. “Stay and answer my questions.” He added firmly.
“I’m seventeen.” The prince said, startled and uncomfortable but not seeing much choice but to comply. Did he put people on the spot like this when he was in his sick bed, desperate for companionship? He didn’t think so, but still, he would show compassion to this lonely boy, in honor of his former self. “I was hired to help the captain, your father? To help him organize the house and this was one of the rooms of concern. There’s nothing deeper going on then that. Umm, what else did you ask me?”
“What’s your name?” the boy asked.
“They call me Prin. What’s your name, and how old are you?” The prince only thought it fair.
“I will be fifteen soon, although the thought of aging another year does nothing for me. They call me Valor.” Valor said. “As much as it doesn’t fit.”
“I don’t know, you seem very brave to me!” Prin said, taking a gamble that such a comment would be pleasing and not just serve to get himself another poke with the sharp end of the stick.
Valor smiled, a tiny crescent moon immerging from behind the clouds. “Can you read? I mean well?”
“Uhh, yes, I think so.” Prin said. “Yes. Very well. Is what I mean by that.”
“Will you read to me?” Valor asked.
“Sure.” Prin said. “Maybe later, after I get some work done for Captain Thompson.”
“No. Now.” Valor said.
The prince wondered if he would get in trouble for not doing the organizing work. However, it didn’t seem wise to disobey the young lord. It didn’t seem like it was even an option.
“I’ll definitely need to get some lights on in here first.” Prin said. A giddy thread of thought wormed its way in behind his ear and he grinned, just for himself. He might be doing a lot of reading in this house.
*
Elwin examined the room. This room didn’t need an organizer, it needed an exorcism. Still, he was grateful for the job. He could work near his prince, and out of the sun and weather. At this point that seemed amazing.
He looked around at the piles and crates full of things everywhere, as far as the eye could see, and decided, maybe he wasn’t particularly suited to this kind of work. He had no idea where to start. Was there even furniture in this room? Somewhere out there, obscured by random items? Elwin lit the oil lamps on the wall near the door, and would have opened the curtains. That is, if he could have gotten to them.
Elwin wondered what the captain’s policy was towards throwing things away. Based on the state of this front room, what should have been the shining example of what was in store for the rest of the house, he figured the policy was, don’t do it.
An old as the hills long wooden trunk called his name from beneath a pile of books and folded cloth. He wasn’t sure if it was the most logical thing to start with but then again, one had to start somewhere, and he was curious what was in it.
Elwin cleared the debris and noticed the trunk had a rusted padlock hanging from it. With a little jiggling it gave way in a crumble of fine red rust. Maybe the trunk was even older than the hills, old as the mountains maybe. Elwin smiled to himself before the sudden thought struck him, were dad jokes contagious? He was too young for dad jokes.
This would have been a lot more fun if he was working in the same room with the prince. Prin would be excitedly leaning over his shoulder, waiting to see what kind of treasure lay within the pirate’s trunk.
Elwin briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, maybe things that a retired pirate has under padlock should stay that way? Recalling a story from one of Prin’s books, he wondered if the old man had the heads of several different wives in here. Well, he already broke the lock, there was nothing for it but to keep moving forward at this point. But believe if he found body parts he would be putting them right back where he got them from and denying he saw a thing. Elwin wasn’t stupid.
He slowly lifted the lid of the old trunk. Inside was rather anticlimactic, what looked like long thin bundles wrapped in canvas, like old ship sails. Elwin lifted the first and smallest of the bundles, it was heavier then expected with the clink of metal inside the canvas. He carefully unrolled the cloth, revealing a pile of daggers some of which had elaborate hilts.
“Nice!” A voice declared, from directly over his shoulder. In fact, it was so close he could feel the expelled breath that came out with the word on the back of his ear.
Elwin dropped the knives to the floor with a small unmanly scream.
“What did you do that for?” The person who had spoken came around to where the daggers were dropped and bent down, picking a few different ones up to examine them closer. She came back up with a dagger in each hand. “The question here is, you go with the one that has the finest blade, or the one – is that gold!?”
The woman was tall, her heeled leather boots pushing her above Elwin himself in height, and striking. She had a mop of black hair, cut uncommonly short, especially for a woman, round eye glasses, and an absolutely wicked smile that was too wide, and a little crooked, but made her seem like great fun at parties.
Her clothes were unusual too, tight grey pants that were tucked into her boots, and a matching grey leather vest over a pale pink shirt with ruffles and a bow at the neck.
“I can’t choose.” She said, tucking the two daggers into her belt. She pointed at the door. “You left it open and were making all this noise. I got curious.”
“Oh.” Elwin said. Was she stealing the daggers? Was it okay? Did she even live here? Elwin was afraid to ask.
“Not much of a talker are ya?” She asked with a chuckle. “I heard you were going to be working here for a while. Wrena is in one of her moods about it. But don’t worry about her.” She winked at Elwin.
“Who? I mean, I’m Elwin.” Elwin said. He felt his cheeks go hot with embarrassment. Why was this woman making him embarrassed? She was the one who snuck up on him, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I know.” She said. “I’m Dru, or you can just call me devil like a lot of people do.” Dru went back toward the door, waving goodbye on her way out. “I bet you wonder why?” She laughed. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”
