Chapter Nine - A Cozy Fire

A small lizard moved in tall grass. It had natural enemies, of course, but for the most part was safe in the nooks and crannies of small rocks and tall trees.

It slithered it's way over an ancient root of an elm, poking out of the ground like some mangled corpse, keeping a wary eye on the tree branches above. Birds were there. It could not think, the creature, but all the instinct in it's body said to stay low and out of sight.

Night had nearly fallen and that meant the lightning bugs would come out. It knew just where to find them. With tiny claws it made it's way surely through the underworld, that miniature jungle in every field, every patch of grass. It dodged around a stray twig, bounding quickly as it flicked it's tongue, smelling for the sweet scent of the insects it would feast on.

It caught a whiff of them and dashed forward, following the invisible trail, as all at once the grass ceased and it was crossing a large dirt path. Fear. Get the hell out. Move away quick. Was all that crossed it's mind as it saw, smell, and heard the human to it's left.

The lizard sped off into the underbrush nearby and disappeared...

Alder didn't even notice the small black lizard that crossed his path, his attention elsewhere. He had been walking down the narrow, dark path towards the estate in the distance. His mind was filled with racing thoughts and his blood boiled with regret and anger.

He was forced down the road. Forced into a new family, a new life. Forced to pick up a dagger and nearly get himself killed. It was all her fault. Helda's. In his mind she was cruel, mean. She picked him up just to cast him aside.

The flowery image of the noble adventurer left his mind as quickly as she had left him on her horse. He hated her. Hated that she didn't explain anything to him before hand. Hated that she left him. Hated that she didn't go with him to save his friends. Maybe they would have lived. Maybe he was a few minutes late and she could have been quicker.

Not that it mattered. They were still dead. All of them. He was the only one left.

He kicked a stray rock hard, watching it tumble down the hill to his left and into the river with a mild "splash". Just last week this place would have been a dream to him. A new place, with the city, the wide open plains, all the wonder and everything to explore.

Not then.

That part of him had died somewhere in the past few days. Especially after that night. It was like the denial from Helda had strengthened his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong. To prove his strength, and become an adventurer.

After his fit of rage he had pulled the knife out of the tree and plunged it deeper with a loud yell. He stabbed it so hard the bones in his hand rattled from the vibration.

"I'll become an adventurer, and get revenge on all the monsters, and definitely prove Helda wrong." Is what he said then. He vowed to pull the knife out of the tree on the day he left his new family to become an adventurer. That spark of rage filled inspiration spurred him forward.

As he drew closer to the large building in the distance though his dream seemed to fade a little. As if the plumes of smoke and cozy light in the windows made the idea of being an adventurer silly, childlike even. The mad desire sat in the back of his mind as he stopped a few hundred feet away and got a good look for the first time at his future home.

It was massive to say the least. Bigger even than the inn he slept in the night before. Whoever these people were had more money than he could dream of. The last rays of the sun shimmered off the metal gate surrounding the estate, ending with a bright "flash" off the helmets of two guards posted in front of the main gate. The house behind looked like a mansion he had only heard of in stories.

He remembered counting the windows as he drew closer and totaled them to 25 just on the front. One of the guards approached him as he got closer, his hand firmly on the hilt of his sheathed blade. "What do you want child?" He asked sternly, his eyes hard and cold. Not nearly as cold as Helda's though.

Alder said plainly, "Helda said I would find shelter here.... sir" he tacked on at the end, trying to be polite. The middle aged guard visibly relaxed as a smile crossed his bearded face.

"Aah! Helda eh! Yes... hmm well come right in. The master should be awake at this hour, probably about dinner time I'd say. I'll call for Rodrick to come lead you in, hey... Harold.." he said, turning to a much younger guard to his left. The man turned as if he was broken out of some dream, snapping his attention back, "aah... yeah John?" He said in response.

"Would you hold it down for a few minutes? This here is Helda's boy. Err... what's your name?" The old guard asked awkwardly,

"Alder, sir." He replied. The old man nodded, "good manners" he said. "Right, Alder here is Helda's boy. Gonna take him in to meet the Master."

The young man seemed surprised and raised an eyebrow, Alder greeting him before turning his attention back to the old man who was unfastening the massive gate. He thought to himself while he waited, "Helda's boy?.. like her son?... is that what she told them?.."

The gate swung easily open, and barely creaked. Inside was a lavish circular courtyard with a large statue and garden in the middle. "Wow.." alder said, the old guard chuckling as he said, "isn't it though? I could tell you were a commoner. Best you learn quick around here. Especially if you are to be taught by The Scholar..."

Everything the old man said only raised question in Alder's mind, but he paid no mind to them at that moment. Instead, he took in the building ahead and focused on what his new family would consist of. How they would treat him and whether or not he would be eating that night or not. He sorely hoped he could get some dinner and a good night's sleep. He would have welcomed sleeping on hay in the stables at that point.

They passed around the statue of what looked to be a farmer holding up a plant, the many collected flowers below less spectacular in the dark. He thought about how beautiful they would be in the light of mid day. A moment later John ascended a few brick steps up to a large porch. He knocked a few times on a large wooden door, that had a lovely Metal knocker on it. The guard stepped back and waited, Alder looking all around in the meantime.

He noted that the courtyard connected off to a large grassy area on either side that was immaculately cared for. Hedges lined the house all the way around and he spotted a large square area to the left, which looked like a separate courtyard of some kind.

His inspection was interrupted by the creaking sound of a door opening, which poured the light of many lanterns out onto the dim porch. A regal looking middle aged gentleman stepped out, dressed in fine black fabric in a style Alder had never seen. He was surely the master, for how rich his clothes were. The thought was dashed though as he noted the way the old guard talked to him, "Oh Roderick... would you lead Alder here to meet the master? He is Helda's boy."

The pale skinned gent turned then and eyed Alder with an almost disapproving stare, before he cordially replied with, "at once.. thank you John.. Right this way Young Master." He gestured, extending an arm thoughtfully to welcome him inside.

Alder was hesitant, embarrassed even at his simple garb and disheveled appearance. He saw the look in the man's eye when he looked at him. He'd seen it before when the merchants would come into town every so often, in their feather caps and brightly colored tunics. He knew he was poor. And everyone else knew it too.

The fact that this regal person called him "young master" made him relax a little though, seeing that they had to use a title with him. He stepped through the gateway and into a stunning entry room. The one room was bigger than his family's entire house, and was covered with art and fine sculptures. He felt wrong stepping on the marble floor with his worn muddy boots, but followed behind Roderick as he walked forward.

Alder was in shock at everything. He didn't know that you could have such nice things in the world. Even the lanterns were nice, though he couldn't tell what they were burning, the light coming from them a soft orange, unlike any flame he had seen before. Not that he could make out any flame.

They crossed under a large, dual staircase that led up to the second floor, and Roderick stopped at two double doors and turned to Alder, saying, "please wait so that I may inform the Master and Mistress..."

He opened the door a crack and stepped through, closing it behind himself softly. Alder didn't even have time to study his surroundings before the grey haired man returned, opening both doors widely before he stepped aside and presented, "Young Master Alder, Master and Mistress and Young Master David.."

Alder found himself looking into a large room with lavish couches, tables, and bookcases around. There was art and a large fireplace on the far wall that was blazing at a comfortable heat. There were three people standing near the couches in the center and they all were looking at him.

He said, "Umm... hello, nice to meet you. Thank you for taking me in..." If he had learned anything in his childhood it was manners. Drilled into him by his father with the occasional reach for a belt if he forgot a "sir" or "Madame" with strangers.

The two adults seemed pleased and he noted the exquisite outfits the man and woman wore. The young boy was dressed similarly in the garb of a noble. He was the first to respond as he ran forward and up to Alder. He had a huge, goofy smile on his copper toned face. His dusty brown hair and blue eyes were striking, and Alder notes he had never seen someone with skin or hair like his.

"Nice to meet you Alder I'm David!" He grabbed Alder's hand and shook it vigorously. Alder's first impression was that he was a kind kid, and was about his age. He seemed to carry all the childishness he once did. It made his stomach turn, as if he looked into a reflection of his past. Before everything.

The woman stepped up next in her beautiful yellow dress, saying, "Please, feel comfortable here... We will take care of you. Now, David, calm down and let Alder be. He must be tired." She had the same copper skin as her son but long flowing golden hair. Her smile was warm and her eyes kind.

The master approached a moment later and introduced himself with an outstretched hand. His skin was fairer than the other two and his hair much like his sons. Alder shook it and the man said, "Nice to meet you as well Alder. My name is Cleor Alby, Welcome to my home. Aah.." he stopped, looking to his wife, "Yes you must be tired. Roderick will see to your meal and settling you in. Come now David, you can talk to Alder on the morrow."

"Yes, Father." The boy said defeatedly. Giving Alder one last smile before turning back to the small room. Roderick beckoned Alder to follow and he took one last look at his "new family" before stepping into the hall.

"They seem nice..." he thought, his eyes wandering around as they passed through the entryway again and turned off into a long hallway. The dark wood walls were accented with fine stones along the floor and ceiling, and Alder wondered how much it all cost.

Roderick turned abruptly into a doorway and Alder stopped and turned, seeing the man standing next to a large dining table in a pristine dining-room. There was a single plate set, the silverware shining in the light of the chandelier overhead. A smell hit his nose and his stomach grumbled, for on the plate was what looked to be roasted chicken and vegetables.

He didn't wait to be beckoned then and moved on instinct, making his way to the finely carved armchair before sitting down, his short legs struggling to get into the high-seat. He thanked Roderick who nodded and stood off to one side.

Alder dug into the food hastily, taking no time to finish the meal and get up to leave. Roderick made no expression and simply turned to lead him elsewhere.

He felt so much more at ease with food in his stomach. It wasn't all so bad. "Is every meal meat?" He thought to himself, hoping it was.

Roderick guided him upstairs and down a less pompous but equally impressive hallway until they finally arrived at a small doorway, this time Roderick didn't open it and instead said, "Here is your room.." and stepped aside, letting Alder open the door for himself.

He nearly cried as he looked into the bedroom. It was plain but was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of. A bed, a desk and chair, empty shelves with but a few books on them, and a bath and wardrobe.

"Feel free to make yourself at home.. there are linens in the wardrobe for your bath and changed of clothes as well. The maid will clean and change your bed daily. Best to stay out of her way young master, let her work."

Alder thanked Roderick profusely and the man simple said goodbye and asked if he needed anything else before leaving. He closed the door and noticed the large iron bathtub. A stepping stool next to it was waiting to help him get into it. "Where do I get the water?" He wondered, feeling the urge to bathe. He walked up to it and peered over the edge, placing his small hands onto the edge of the ice cold tub. There was a faucet and what looked to be a switch on top, and a strange flat-circular red crystal where the drain would have been. There wasn't anything connected to it and he was confused. He walked around and reached up to pull the small switch on the faucet, recoiling in shock as water poured out a moment later.

It pooped in the bottom for a moment before he noticed the red crystal at the bottom absorbing the water. He pulled the switch again and the water stopped flowing, whilst the remainder in the tub itself started to disappear entirely. "Wow... magic..." Alder thought to himself.

He got excited then, and decided to undress to bathe. He took the knapsack off and set it aside then remembered, "Aah... right..." he opened it and saw the ancient book inside. He remembered the strange shop and the old man and how he gave it to him. He still hadn't looked at it. His curiosity grew but he longed for a comforting bath more.

Alder fully undressed and got in the bath, settling in for the night. He looked over as he let the warm water seep into his muscles and bones, looking past the rising steam to settle his eyes on the crackling flames in a small fireplace.

He cried, really letting himself cry for the first time. The water in his eyes clouded the orange flames of the fire and he let out all the pain, all the regret.

Minutes passed... and he got up to get out of the bath, grabbing for a towel on the edge of the tub to dry himself. The tears were gone, but the pain remained. He resolved himself then, resolved for no more tears. He had to act. Had to begin. He had to get revenge and more than anything make something of himself.

He wanted to carry on the legacy of his village. No one else would. He stepped out of the bath and walked to the wardrobe, throwing on a set of pajamas as he turned to the bed. He didn't crawl in really more like he threw himself on the soft mattress, turning once more to look at the fireplace and the dancing flames. They cast long shadows over the room in their enchanting flickering.

They wiggled into his mind and took his thoughts away, his worries and fears, and he fell into a dreamless sleep, whilst the flames danced on through the night.