Our fruitful youth sprouted as a means of tearing myself away from reality. However, just because my days got a little more pleasant, it didn't magically erase my problems.
Knock, knock, knock!
The abrupt sound alarmed me from the other side of my navy door that naturally was paired to my eyes. A rose thorn pattern embedded in a gold gleam that rose in heights that the frame extended too, was a scene I gazed at too often at that point.
Knock, knock, knock!
I distinctly recall the sound rousing me from my bed upon the second time. My shoulders slumped, along with my more decrepit frame that was unsuitable for a usual heir to a noble bloodline as a teenager, as I dragged my feet along the frigid limestone floor that swayed my eyes in a dizzying pattern that welcomed whispers into my ears. A chill would hound my body as the dismal amount of light that seeped through the panes of glass, would pierce my light deprived skin that got accustomed to an unhealthy routine of wallowing in the day in the covers of my feathery quilt and seeking comfort in the night from the girl I met a few months back.
I remember asking myself back then this one question over and over. "Is this living?"
"I'm coming." I announced in the direction of the door, preventing further knocking that would have allowed my anxiety to trickle in further. The culprit heard me, even though my voice was just a lost echo making its way round my chambers. The slapping noise of my bare feet lasted through the shameful walk to answer the door, the noise calling up the vivid memories of being hit in training due to my inaptitude.
"Get up, you worthless pig!" The instructor would yell at me, pounding away at my bruised body that slipped crimson blood from below me. "Get up, get up, get up!"
When will this end? Did I wish for so much? Maybe I was conceited, but I could have corrected myself. Is this the punishment deserving for someone as useless like me? These thoughts would flow through like mixtapes as the scenes unravelled before my blank stare recalling visions all too graphic.
"Young master Aldir?" The voice searched for my answer and simultaneously snapping me back to reality, my palm heavily rested on the door. I wiped the tears from my eyes and opened.
My personal maid stood with a silver platter rested in her lap. Her name was Kala and she was assigned to me since I was young. When my parents would leave for business trips, she would personally tend to all my extravagant needs and wishes. She was charming, kind, beautiful and all to ready to place all responsibility on herself. Brown hair in two audacious drills, that drilled to the floor in marvellous distance. A perky smile eased on to her face, thick swirly brows that looked almost like a sheep's wool and a very dark grey eyes.
The most unalive colour you could think of, yet so much life sprouted from the innocence and pride held in her features. A beauty from head down also, well endowed with glossy, pristine, tender white skin. She still held me in high regards and tended to me with respect, though no such consideration was required.
"Is everything okay, master Aldir?" She perked at my darkened characteristics attempting to cheer me up. She very well knew what I suffered and she knew all to well how I felt. She was someone who attentively listened to my confessions, like a priest in a place of worship, but instead of a scummy man that wasn't all interested in you, a compassionate and bewitching women would offer assistance.
I jerked slightly to her warmed tone. "Yes. Everything is as fine as it could be." My reply was vague and implied different feelings, but she insisted on accepting only the happy one.
"Then follow me. Master is expecting you." She finished and my face swarmed with clouds once more. There was only one other person who she referred to as master, her employer, the head, the man who ruled with an iron fist over his children and endeavoured to develop each of them. He had many titles and names, but to me, biologically at least, he was my father.
The walk through the corridor felt as uncanny as it could have. The imagery of these walls faded to my previous remembrance of these quarters that were instilled into my eyes as a child. A fade of setting red pouring in to the darkened shadows in the afternoon and the prolonged promenade that had to be conquered to reach his parlour.
Guards sat at the entrance, donning there mercury armour and in each of the guards right hands, a lance positioned in a tight grip inspecting any passing personal, no matter how many times they have entered, no matter the relationship held with their master, upon each encounter, the lances would cross with a metal rustling scraping away at each over. A royal blue mane, riding up like a mohawk, decorated their helmets that would cover their face disclosing only their battle hardened glare that remained fixed and unchanged.
"State your name and business," The two started immediately as we approached the range capable of attack.
Kala perched herself before me and held one hand to her chest and bowed elegantly. Her tone continued in an unwavering manner and her eyes confidently met the guards no matter the pressure they exuded. "We have come upon the masters request. If you wish, you can check with him." Her words passively challenged them, but the guards soothed their increasingly firmer grips at her boldness in their presence.
The one on the left nudges his partner to his right and signals to him with a tilt of his head to check with my father about our arrival. Each times the guards did this I thought it was stupid, but no matter what, it just re-laid my fathers nature and the measures he would take to be cautious for the sake of his own life.
The soldier eventually comes back and the two soldiers cohesively open the titanic quartz double doors, I and Kala following amongst the sluggishly revealing door that settled great noise throughout the hall behind me and collapsed in a great noise as the doors closed behind me and her.
The room was what you'd expect from a noble. A throne in the centre of the room slightly elevated on a platform and my father resting his head on his fist upheld by the armchair. His face seasoned with more age than it had in the past, his deep, wise, royal blue eyes glittered ever so faintly with irritation. Creased lines developed in his fatigued skin, his cheeks distinctly skinnier and adopting a paler complexion rather than his previous bright warm colours. It almost pained me to see him in this state, my heart grabbing itself in a tight chokehold.
Did he look better before, or was that yet again my mind which conceptualised the world as perfect and endeared him in a soothed light? Is my father... dying?
I never thought of these questions previously. He always seemed to look good. Yet again the last time I properly saw him, I was still promised great achievements. And even though he didn't stop the harsh treatment against me, nor ever mouthed a bad word at me... I too thought he despised me. Was I wrong?
I clenched to one knee and looked to the ground as I spoke up. "What did you summon me for father?" My words tight-screwed the bottle cap I held on my emotions bringing up my question in a more professional and expected manner.
My father slowly adjusted his posture in his seat, straightening his back against the stiff gold that attired Royal blue carvings, speaking of our history. His robes that loosened of his bony wrists wafted in the air, slapping around making a distracting noise.
A rough and pained groan began talking. "Aldir. My son who has not had the courtesy of visiting the head of his house, it pains me to see us grow so far apart."
"Huh?" My voice leaked in a surprised gasp. Father raised his brow to the noise and I immediately apologised for interrupting.
"It was you who was promised such fabulous wonder, to bring even more favoured success to our blossoming bloodline. Such a shame to see you fall from grace. Fourteen now, you are, correct?"
"Yes..." I slipped upon the mention of the expectations bound to me.
"Almost a man and yet...all you are is a disgrace. I thank you highly for not visiting me all this time, I truly hate to see something so pathetic be encapsulated into a single being. And to also hear you frolicking around with a common girl at night. Words, I cannot, even spare on you. You have betrayed all I have given you and surrender yourself to such a simple thing as playing with common people. You are worse the scum, and I hereby forbid you from claiming our last name. Now be gone...forever."
The contents of his speech truly deluded me from his conservative start. Tears roared from my pain-shafted eyes hitting the limestone that decorated the floor. My body collapsed onto all fours and Kala tried to help me recover, shock rested on her lips as much as mine.
"Escort him out, Kala. And mop up the floor from this failure's tears." He dismissed, waving his arm arrogantly.
"I NEVER ASKED TO BE CALLED A PRODIGY! ALL OF YOU SHOVED THAT EXPECTATION ON ME AND THEN WERE DISSAPOINTED OF WHAT I WAS! I WAS NEVER A PRODIGY AND NEVER WILL BE, BUT I THOUGHT AT LEAST THE BLOOD THAT RAN IN OUR BODIES CARRIED SOME EMOTION ALONG WITH IT!" A scarring screech revolted from my lungs, my voice scarring and burning in immeasurable pain, but that all ceased in the moment and upon the finishing echo, my throat became punctured with a thousand blunt-edged daggers digging deep.
"Remove him from my sight." His gaze remained cold and impersonal, the decoration on his head slightly tilting to the side.
It was that night, that I left the estate and left behind my last name. Veronica, spontaneously dropped everything she had just for me. For this worthless, proclaimed by all, failed prodigy. We set off and worked for multiple years until settling in a small home all the way out on the outskirts of the soaring Kingdom. Then we got married, a small ceremony attended by only us two in the comfort of our small shack. Then came around our child, Eli. I promised myself not to be like my father and place any expectation on the kid. Just let him be and do what he loves. That would be everything for me.
Originally, when his scarlet eyes intelligently searched mine, fear and doubt sneaked around my heart. I selfishly hoped for mediocrity. For my son to be what I had been. I couldn't accept my own grief and tried to look at my son like a younger me. Yet he would always be different to me.
When he so naturally began using mana and excelling his movements to levels even certain adults couldn't... I was petrified. I panicked and heavily refused my wife's begging to teach our young boy. Eventually, she coerced me into doing her own bidding and I hesitantly agreed to take on Eli.
Just think how my insecure self felt when he managed to implement an elemental affinity on his very first attempt, and with such finesse, power and accuracy. Of course, I barked at him like looking at a younger me who I so terribly despised. I...was just like that man, who turned his back on me because I wouldn't become what he wanted me to.
"I really am pathetic." I spoke in the dark, looking at my mug filled with alcohol.
"You're not pathetic, just insecure. Don't worry, with time you'll overcome your past. Everyone moves on. You don't have to be haunted by the past which was so ruthlessly dealt to you. A deck that had potential yet turned out as a bust. This world is unforgiving dear, but resilience is powerful with the correct resources and people. You should be happy to have such an incredible son and such a great wife." Ronny cheered me up. A sweet smile present on her face, half captivated by the dark and half basking in the light, as she encouraged me and directed me.
"Can I really do it?"
"Of course you can. I think once you start to accept Eli and look at him as Eli rather than yourself, you can be freed of the shackling past. Keep your head up." Her soft whispers set me at ease and she snatched the beer from my hand and proceeding to tuck the two of us into bed.
"Night dear."
"Night," I replied.