Mornings went by and Ewan took care of the baby monkey while living his days. The loss of his left hand troubled him, but it also eased the pace of his life. The already cumbersome task that it hindered the most though was feeding the monkey. He was far too small, smaller than Ewan's palm, the normal sized milk bottles for babies couldn't work—not even the syringes survived his feed as the little menace chewed and ripped its beak.
And so, Ewan had to buy a special tiny bottle for Astylinds online. It was a fast delivery, but it cost him one Sol, almost bleeding his heart. Even though his account balance now weighed several Sols heavier, he still couldn't afford to splurge, not even on the food he liked to eat, for he had no source of income anymore.
Luckily, Uncle Thain called this morning and informed him about the status of the transaction, that the withdrawal refund from the school would reflect in his account by sundown.
….
The doorbell clanged when he'd just fed the monkey and sprawled on the chair in his room, resting the hurt arm on his chest. Since the shop had shut down, and the board outside mentioned it in bold letters, it couldn't be any potential customer. So, it was either someone asking for address or someone messing around—he dragged himself up and trudged for the gate. His Pa did say he would receive a gift in a few days, so it could be that too…the thought breathed some life in his steps, and he almost trotted over.
"Mr. Ayres?" the delivery guy asked when Ewan opened the door.
"Yeah," Ewan said, his eyes sparking.
"Please sign here, and your fingerprint."
Ewan took the panel and did as told. After confirming his identity, the delivery guy took a small package out of his bag, the outer cover scraped around the edges, and handed it to him.
"Can I get a glass of—" Ewan slammed the door, locked it, and scuttled back to his room while eyeing the packet from all sides.
The baby monkey napped on his bed, his tiny chest with some new fur rising and falling peacefully. Without disturbing him, Ewan tore the package and took out a metallic cube from inside. It also had a note stuck on it, 'Drop your blood,' it wrote. It was his Pa's writing; he recognized the dropping tail of 'D' his Pa liked to extend.
Ewan sliced his finger on a gleaming edge of the cube and let his blood smear its surface. The red blob dispersed into fine lines on the metal surface, thinning by the second. And when the cube absorbed all the blood he gave, the box clicked open and its top slid aside, baring the black key that rested on the velvet bed inside. Its grooves ran different from the usual electronic keys, it resembled runes more than simple notches.
He picked it up, mulling over where to use it. There wasn't any locked room in the house, no special place that it could open either. But as seconds went by, as he looked around the room and hall, the key warmed and chilled his touch—it heated up when he brought it to the sliding door that led to the backyard and cooled down when he walked away.
This back area was smaller than the middle courtyard but bigger than the average garden. It had a dirty pond to the left and an overgrown white blossom tree rooted by its side. Its crown towered above the fence; fallen white petals covered the grass below. There was also a shed to the right; attached to the corner of the house but its entrance was from the backyard.
Ewan shifted towards the shed, and the key heated up. The battered shed that only held a faint resemblance of its past sparked a hint of nostalgia as he looked around. It was steps away from where he lived yet it had been years since he stepped foot in it.
The shed door clicked as he neared; it opened on its own. Ewan gulped, not minding his flinch from the click. All these events spooked him a little, but this was his Pa's setup. So, he went in.
The inside lay bare. Except for a dusty floor, browned leaves, glass shards from the cracked window, and withered branches, it had nothing, but the key almost scalded his skin in here. He took one step in, and the key shot out of his hand and into the right wall, fitting in a hole. Ewan stood where he was and gaped as a new door carved into the wall, its contours and edges matching the style of his mansion—this wall connected the house to this shed.
He took a deep breath and opened it, and a dark stairway greeted him with a musty stench. The tubes on the ceiling flickered and lit up one by one, lighting the path down. He followed the only path available, and soon, a huge basement ballooned before him, dazzling him with its harsh milky lighting—he shaded his eyes and squinted. Its white metal walls bounced the light off and blazed the place; it was too bright.
The total area it covered was huge, beyond the boundary of his house. It covered most of his neighbors too.
The whole basement was empty except for the large table at the center and a control panel in one corner. Ewan surveyed the whole place when the radiance didn't sting his eyes, gaping, and heaving. His house sat on something this huge…his Pa really knew how to surprise him.
After a few minutes, when he digested it all, he moved to the table—there were a few items on it.
A black full finger claw-ring with a sharp and pointy tip, it could fit his index finger; an old audio player; two old booklets with rough black hardcovers; a human-head sized blue egg covered in runes; a fist-sized ivory egg also covered in runes; and a dried walnut like seed.
Everything on the table tickled Ewan's curiosity, but he reigned it in and played the audio player first—it was an old design, with no function to connect to any network, wired or otherwise.
"Ewan, this'll be the last time you hear from me." After a bit of static, the audio played.
His chest twinged as he heard his Pa.
"You've grown up, you need to find your own path now. I'm already a past, I can't be in your future. Remember, you'll only have yourself to rely on, and Nana too if you wish to honor the old promise. Forget it if you don't, it's better to end the cycle of bitterness with my generation. Base your future with her on trust and care, not benefits and interest, let that end with me…"
Her sobbing image on the balcony flashed before him, and he sighed, sitting by the table with his back against its leg, his head resting on the wood—the audio played on the table.
"What I'll tell you, keep it in mind, but destroy all evidence of it. Destroy this tape and the player, never let anyone else know about it. Please Ewan, be careful with this one."
Ewan sat in silence; his eyes closed.