The man that entered had this little hissing sound in his voice. His mouth's anatomy was wrong indeed. It wasn't the sole unfinished part of his body.
"Who are you?"
Asked the burnt abomination in the bed.
The man was surprised by his question, couldn't he see his outfit?
'Don't tell me...' He thought while observing the mask. There was no place for the eyes to see through. 'What a stupid mask. He won't even see it, how ridiculous.'
"I am the handsome head of the kitchen. I have been requested by the great one to give you special delicacies."
He said smirking.
On his plate were a scramble of mouldy vegetables in a burnt base of fat. The man awaited next to the kid a few seconds, he wanted to see the guest's face. But he was unexpectedly expelled of the room by the kid with a polite sentence.
"I am not allowed to show my face alas, therefore I would like you to leave the room."
The mask made him lisp a few times and the cook noticed it. 'Maybe he's as handsome as me.'
He neared the door and closed it, in front of him, to let the kid believe he was gone. He breathed slowly to hide his presence and waited.
The kid got up. Walked near the plate and did his best to smell something, something else that the crisp of his throat or the rotten blood in his nose.
'Hehe! I hope he don't find out too fast.'
Nothing. Nothing coming out from a plate that emanated heat. It was a meal, something he enjoyed until the age of six. He gritted his teeth. 'I can't enjoy normal food anymore, can I?'
There was this faint heaviness. Suspended mid air, tiny particles could be smelt. Sour, salty. What was it? The sudden light fragrance surprised him as he turned his head toward the dresser, where stood the man.
Show noticed the boy's move and rejoiced to the appearance of this new sense. He prevented himself to comment it, to not interrupt Keith.
He casually walked toward the man, sniffing the air around him from time to time.
Where the smell was strong he stopped, he was a few centimeters in front of the cornered cook. He knew he was still too far from the dresser's position. He touched the soft thing in front of him and got his fingers a little wet. The water was a little sticky, he licked it.
'That's it! That's where the smell comes from.' How happy was he. If not for the providence of the sample he found. There was no taste, only the sensation on his tongue and in the back of his throat. 'That's belly sweat.' Said show.
He remembered, if he wanted to not have social problems, he had to scare people. So he lifted his head to where he imagined the man's height and spoke.
"I asked kindly, did I not?"
The man gulped down his saliva. 'He came straight at me!' The low voice was intimidating.
"Get out!"
He urged. The cook apologised before exiting for good. He was being watched from afar by one of the servants. He saw the man wiping his belly before tasting it. He winced in disgust. That's some strange manners.
'How come this retarded was assigned to the important guest?' Prem thought while scratching his chin. He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer.
"What is it?"
The guest asked, he hadn't touched his meal yet, he had to find his way back next to his bed first.
"Dear guest, today you are to attend the evening reunion of the court. The king would like to introduce you to his fellow now that you seem to feel better. I brought you proper clothes for the ceremony."
He recognised the servant's voice, the one that spent days feeding and bathing him.
"A ceremony?"
"Yes, to officially welcome you here."
The servant entered the room, barely noticing the unsightly smell lingering around. He had to approach the kid because he was next to the dresser. He handed him the clothes and said.
"I'll come again to help you put them on, they are the hard work of our artisans but blind or not, it's hard to make head or tail of it."
It was a large robe with golden lines from top to bottom. The fabric was soft and its surface was as smooth as silk, Keith had never felt such smoothness until now. The dry skin on his fingers would stick in-between the delicate strings when he brushed its surface.
"What is your name?"
Asked Keith.
"My name is Prem dear guest."
"I'm Seven."
"Well I am getting near twenty four but I don't brag about it."
Prem said with a flat tone.
The silence fell on both boys. Except in Keith's mind where an exaggerated laugh echoed. Feeling the discomfort, Prem justified his last words.
"My apologies dear guest. I have done this joke many times before. Even if you don't like it, please do not report it to my king, he'd behead me. If you are comfortable enough with this name you've been given, then I will call you Seven. See you later!"
Once Prem out, it was time for dinner.
He plunged his fingers in the plate, not asking Show for any description. He was used to be fed with normal food and he was wondering how the king would give him more meat. The same moment he had difficulties to get his hands off the viscous thing.
"What's in the plate?"
'I can't tell, it's too messy. That may be the worst thing I've seen in a plate.' Said Mister Show.
He did his best to smell something. with his mask off, the warm steam entered the two crevices on his face. There was a remnant, a negligible scrap of smell. The sour and salty one. At least he knew who prepared it.
One piece of it, he chewed long and hard on what seemed to be a condensed sap mixture. He had no difficulty to chew it, only to swallow the fighting food.
He wasn't full nor satisfied by the texture, but it was enough to fill his stomach.
Later the same day, he could hear music in the opening of the door. Prem was with him and helped the kid, checking the severity of the blatant wounds.
"Do your wounds bleed when you make exaggerated gestures?'
He asked, uselessly pointing out the subject of his sentence.
"My neck and head are too crippled to allow me the experience the unpleasant feeling it provokes. As for my arms, you tell me if you still need to change my bedsheets. I don't know either."
Prem checked the gigantic bed to find only dry black and brown dots bouncing on the sheets. Nothing alarming for the recovering kid.
"I wanted to know about something Seven. I heard you were a witness during the monster's onslaught. Did you see me back then? Maybe I've yet to tell you my exploits this day."
"I heard them every time you came to clean me. I don't recall much of what I was doing. I just... escaped my house and fled with my father. Then it all started."
'This! Could he come from the house that gave birth to this abomination? Back then that day... Could it be him? Then why did he claim to be an orphan?' Prem managed to find a knot on the line. He planned to inform his king as soon as possible but the court waited for them already.
Three more servants stood next to the room, having an escort inside the palace was the most accurate sign of distinction.
The boy walked among the four, standing out both by his outfit and height.
'Walk straight and be sure to keep your head up little one, we're almost here.' Said Show, correcting their trajectory from time to time.
'I must tell him.' Willed Prem.
After a few whispers exchanged, a voice announced.
"Council, nobles and all of you present tonight. Our guest has arrived, I want you to welcome him with warmth and your best smile."
It was the king's assistant. When they entered the hall, their footstep were suddenly muffled by a thick carpet. The assistant turned toward the little group and pointed the kid.
"I introduce you to Seven, our new promising one! From now on he'll be assisted by our beloved Foreseer, to impede the devil's plans."
'What?' Thought Foreseer, tightening her grip on her sura glass. 'Nonsense! He must remain in the shadows!' She tried to protest, but her voice was engulfed by a swarm of whispers.
King rose his glass and they made a toast altogether.
"To Seven!"
"Cheers!"
They all said while the music began anew. Lots of people approached the kid out of curiosity. Why was he so young? Who was he? Also what's with that mask?
Multiple voices harassed the kid with questions. His tension went up, he would've imagined it could be this stressful to be touched by strangers with no warning prior.
'How unpleasant! How disagreeable! Stop that! 'He thought while breathing more and more heavily.
His nervousness stopped with the vicious caresses when all heard the assistant once again.
"We've prepared a little activity for you all! A spectacle himself was not aware of! Bring the three jars!"