Hounds and Sticks (2)

The night felt long and dark. Remorse and tremors of fear and anxiety haunted my body, rendering me unable to move or speak properly. My eyes wandered, seeking solace, but even joyful memories failed to bring relief. The vivid images of the claw-like arms continued to haunt me.

The lingering aura left by the encounter struck me, attracting the darkness of the night and distorting the space around me.

I couldn't bring myself to look at its face. Perhaps it was out of fear of what it could be, or the intimidating aura that prevented me from looking further.

I wasn't sure what I had seen, but everything felt surreal and horrifying.

The incident left me trembling with fear, my quivering body struggling to support its own weight. My heart raced, adrenaline coursed through my veins, and breathing became difficult.

I rushed through the corridor, my footsteps echoing loudly with each thud. I hurriedly entered my room, slamming the door shut, seeking comfort and safety. I sat down in the corner of my bed, muscles tense, still paralyzed by the shock of seeing the monster outside. My hands trembled as I placed them on the bed.

Curling my shaking knees and wrapping my trembling arms around them, I sat on the bed. The cold night wind blew in through the open window, sending chills down my spine as I recalled the terrifying event.

Frantically looking around, I noticed the shadows of books on the table casting eerie shapes in front of me.

Paranoid, I scanned other areas of the room, finding shadows of various objects dancing on the floor.

The shadows moved, twisting and forming gestures on the ground. Fear and anxiety washed over me once again, causing cold sweat and goosebumps.

As I sat there, I realized it was all in my mind. I felt relieved that it wasn't real, but the fear and terror from the woods remained.

Hours passed as I stayed on the bed, listening to the whispers of the wind and the murmurs of the leaves. The cold wind continued to blow through my window, the shadows remaining still, and everything felt serene.

With time, I managed to calm myself, but tonight would be a memory that time could not erase.

I wondered what would have happened if Uncle Robert's voice hadn't come. Would I still be trapped in a trance, rendered hopeless or worse?

Lost in thoughts of the possibilities, the door gently opened with a chilling creak, filling the room. I jolted up, my gaze fixed on the white door bathed in moonlight, and saw a man wearing a white long-sleeved shirt.

Uncle Robert stood at the doorway, his face crumpled with a pitiful look, realizing what an embarrassment I must have been to him. The room seemed darker with his presence as if the night lingered. He embodied the stature, dignity, and honor of Stele, probably considering how pathetic I must have appeared.

A sense of sadness spread through my body, surpassing any disappointment I had ever felt before. I scooted over to my pillow, angling my head downward, the cool touch offering some solace against my cheek. I felt my breath turn cold under my skin as I lay down on the pillow.

My blood froze as I contemplated the punishment that awaited me.

I couldn't bring myself to look at my uncle anymore, feeling displeasure with myself for my actions that denied me my family name.

Uncle Robert approached from the doorway, moving with newfound grace, each step deliberate and gentle. The heavy thumping of his footsteps was replaced by a delicate rhythm. His eyes remained fixed on me, carrying the same unwavering expression he had when he first entered the room.

The delicate footsteps stopped in front of the bed and stood still for a minute. I looked at him, anticipating the punishment. Anxiety welled up within me.

He sat down lightly on the edge of the bed, looking directly at the wooden bookcase filled with unread literature. The books sat untouched, though I doubted they accumulated dust since servants would occasionally clean my room. The bookcase had a glossy, clean wooden texture, refined by the best carpenter who had made all the furniture in the house.

A moment of silence filled the room. Uncle Robert's gaze traversed the room with gentle curiosity, his eyes absorbing the details with tenderness. His inspection moved from the dimly lit corners to the flickering candle on the bedside table. With each sweep of his gaze, he exuded a sense of reverence and sadness, as if acknowledging the significance of the space and the emotions it held.

"Keepers," he muttered.

"What...?" I asked, confused by his words.

"The one you saw is classified as a keeper. They usually reside deep within the Everthorn Woods, but it seems something has stirred their interest..." He explained, his eyes still fixed on the bookcase. His back faced me as I lay curled up in bed, hands wrapped around my knees.

"You may wonder why you are confined in a place like this. There are many reasons why you are stuck here," he continued, speaking in his usual noble voice that evoked a sense of nostalgia.

"To discuss things in an orderly manner, because I believe this would be difficult for you to comprehend at such a young age, I didn't want to reveal this information so early. However, destiny has its own timeline." He looked at the empty frame.

"..."

"Let's start with your parents, your circumstances, the monsters, and the teachings... William, your father, is searching for a remedy for your mother. Claudette is in a coma, or at least that's what we chose to tell you," he said, his tone clear and pristine.

I listened attentively, this being the first time I had heard of this. Sleepiness threatened to overtake me, but this new information jolted me awake. His voice became the sole focus of my mind, the wind died down, and the atmosphere became tense. The dark room became illuminated by moonlight, casting a faint white glow that made everything clearer.

"William and Claudette are currently in 'Shattershire,' the stronghold that maintains the line of defense against hordes of monsters that come through the Everthorn Woods. The estate where you are now is nothing compared to its original state. Outside, it's just a village on the outskirts of the country. There's nothing special about it, except that it helps conceal our identity from the world," he continued, his voice stern and echoing through the room.

I maintained an incessant silence, carefully listening to the information shared by Uncle Robert. The wind died down, and all sounds ceased as if the world itself anticipated this moment and wanted me to hear clearly.

"Thousands upon thousands of monsters can tear through the Everthorn Woods and ravage the entire kingdom if the stronghold is not adequately maintained. The war ended a decade ago, but for reasons yet to be known, blood and war have resurfaced. I can't say how intense the current war is compared to my time." His face grimaced as he spoke about the subject of war.

It seemed like my uncle had gone through horrible experiences that scarred him for life—a broken face filled with regret and malice. It was a face I had yet to see, even though he was a hero, honored and glorified. Heroes could still bleed.

"I entrusted all my dominion to your father as he left me a new responsibility—to care for you, Enzo. It was a new experience for me to raise a child, someone so naughty and full of energy. Even though I get angry and probably terrify you, I love you just as I would my own child." My uncle gave me a warm smile, looking back at me with gentle eyes and an aura so different from the intimidating atmosphere that made him unique.

"I entrusted all of my hounds to your father, who is currently fighting in a war. Even though I am far away from my family, I hope that I can be of assistance. Among the hounds that stayed with me are the hound trio that you always love playing with." He explained.

"Your circumstances, young Enzo, are difficult to explain... and complicated. Please give me a few moments to figure out how to approach this. I may not disclose every detail, but I will tell you the truth that I believe you can handle at this moment. Not everything I share will encompass the entire situation, but I will speak of realities." he continued.

Uncle Robert turned to me, his face filled with bittersweetness. He looked out the window of my room, contemplating how he should explain my circumstances. From his gestures alone, I could sense that he was about to say something that would mark a turning point in my life—possibly information that would be incomprehensible for a child of my age.