His fingers moved gracefully over the counter, his mind lodged in other moments, far from the present. Lost in memories, he evoked different distant and close emotions.
A smile appeared on his face, which was reflected on a preserved bottle of whiskey. It was in such a way that he didn't even notice how a shadow approached his unsuspecting figure.
Until a deep voice brought him out of his reverie. It belonged to a male individual and was actually the bartender's.
"I'm back, thank you for your wait. The greatest ambrosia I have found among the great variety of high quality is this old wine. Although it maintains the age of a senile old man, it enjoys the youth of a young man." The bartender said, mentioning it with a big smile, while pouring it into a glass.
Even he, without being the owner, felt proud of a specimen of such caliber.
Frederick watched carefully as the wine was served, resulting in expectations. During his life he had embarked to different places in the world; Being a coined taste, tasting various liquors.
"Thank you very much, gentleman. But come, come a little closer." Frederick said, insisting that he come closer, finally patting him on the shoulders.
He quickly asked him to come closer, beyond the counter. The man, doubting the other's intentions, still agreed to his command.
"Go, go, out there, savor the fresh air as if you were a bee on a flower. Go away, do gymnastics or exercise, sunbathe or watch the clouds, but rest for a while. Okay?" Frederick told him slowly, trying to convince him with his great rhetoric.
All this happened while the patting continued, and little by little he was pushed out to the exit, towards the outside patio.
He gently patted the back of the man's head, confusing him even more.
"Look, you can visit anywhere. Although it is not a place of bliss here, the fields are vast and beautiful in their own right. Just imagine that you are a curious, foreign tourist without understanding the danger signs." Frederick said with an enthusiastic smile, trying to scare him away in the most charismatic way possible.
"Are you sure, sir? Although it is not my intention to go against you, it is my fear that caused my fault." The man said, not understanding the situation and trying to safeguard his skin.
"You just go. Don't worry." Frederick finished, with no intention of continuing acting. Exposing a dominant, but ephemeral facet.
The event had been observed by others; although with doubts, they ignored him. Solely judging his features, they determined that he had enough right to allow himself to do so.
Still, despite having been able to observe such an outstanding individual, no one came close. As if there were a certain repellent.
After doing so, Frederick wiped his hands and wiped off the imaginary sweat. He had fired the bartender because of his early honesty; His destiny was close, judged or not, his hands still had calluses.
Upon completing this, he headed to the canteen again, to keep his solitary drink company.
He enjoyed the color of its contents, observing how it moved magnetically in his view.
With delicacy and a soft touch, he grabbed the handle of it, enjoying the pleasant touch, finally lifting it onto his shoulders.
Raising his eyes to observe the red of the wine through the transparent color, he spoke with passion and misfortune.
"Old wine, which I hold in my hand, fiery red like the passion of a lover. It enters my mouth, its bright red, mixes with ancient blood from my gums; they are dirty.
It passes through my throat, and like an ancient magician's trick, it goes in like a dagger and my stomach bleeds.
It drowned me in this sea of blood, coming from my hollow gums, which made everything dirty.
I hold the pale handle of my glass, watching the last drops, accepting the strange but affectionate pale embrace."
His exclamation, witnessed by the heavens. His wine, witnessed by him.
Vibrating in the warm grip, its contents overflowed with warmth.
Looks were directed at him, at his shouting. At the end, applause... hypocritical.
Previously, they had ignored his presence. His bearing, ignored.
With her highlight, softly outlined from the color of her hair, she caused waves that the floodgates of the divine could not contain.
Hypocrisy in so-called holiness...
And just like that, he decisively swallowed the contents of the cup. To continue hitting her against the floor and stepping on the messy glass.
Such an action had caused a screeching noise. Attracting the attention and doubt of those present.
Picking up the bruised red cloth over his shoulder, he raised his foot to a considerable height, managing to clean the remains of glass on his shoe with the same cloth. Made possible despite his height, due to his physical capacity.
At no time did he show doubt or misfortune, remaining with an inexplicable calm; that had broken through his previous doubt.
These actions attracted shocked looks from some prestigious guests, who recognized the origin and value of the bruised fabric. Which was a symbol of royalty, used since ancient times, representing the true descendants of kings.
Observing the landscape before his eyes, he calmly and precisely retrieved a dagger that had been resting in one of the inside pockets of his jacket.
A strange sensitivity came from such a sharp instrument, acting as an attracting energy. Gems and jewels of different value were embedded in it.
With strange patterns on its handle, it was silver and shone in the silent room. Artistic, but somber; without any mastery, but ancient.
Some of the elders reacted extremely surprised. They recognized its origin, and at some point, they showed devotion to it.
An ancient ritualistic instrument, which found its origin in the first decline of civilization. Embedded in devotion, fervent as well as ignorant.
The landscape was gloomy, so he became bored; Raising the dagger high, to observe its silvery shine, he marveled.
To continue to pronounce some hurtful words such as cuts, resulting and ending words.
"You, ostentatious in egotism. Hypocrites like no other." He uttered without looking at anyone.
Of those present, he knew quite a variety. He had shared words, smiles and laughter; In black and white, he also sinned.
He knew his colors like no other, being primary in a vicious cycle.
"You gather together like flies in feces, since you share qualities: Dishonest, disloyal and bloodthirsty."
The smiles and current demeanor were not the same ones they shared in the media or in front of the crowds.
"But today, today they were wrong. You were gathered together like innocent sheep in the slaughterhouse... Ironic."
Pronouncing these words had given him great amusement. It was so much that it had calmed any previous nervousness. Firmly gripping the handle, a lip smile bloomed on him.
Before the demonstration of his concise speech with no apparent end, different old and familiar faces showed themselves showing contempt.
"What is your intention with these words, little Fre?"
"Have you gone to the wrong circus?"
"Heh... I didn't remember you like that, little silver."
Observing the situation that was developing, Rebecca approached Frederick with the intention of calming the situation.
"Cousin... What are you doing? You bring shame to the family name. Please put that away and think again." Rebecca said, trying to calm his cousin with desperation hidden in her neat eyes.
Things had escalated to a point without qualms, which had surprised her. He had shared short words with him, with whom he noticed his distant actions, but he had never expected that he would have gone crazy.
Today was a day of joy. Festive, without qualms about the name, expenses and eccentricities...
So he was deeply surprised by the totally different attitude from his cousin's careful, neat and distant one.
"The guests are present, don't make a childish demonstration." She tried to finish, holding on to Frederick's strong shoulders.
At this, he only received a piercing look from Frederick. Who, with a slight smile, made a quick movement, placing his large right palm on the soft nape of his cousin's neck; who with a light caress...
"Broken swan."