*
I finally found another well-kept carriage. After discussing the pay and handing over the outrageous fees, I felt defeated as I left for my employer's house.
As I reached my employers house, his wife welcomed me. My employers wife was a wonderful person and sometimes I wondered how my employer had won her heart, that too with his behaviour.
My employer was the type of person who liked displaying his wealth and boasting about his successful business.
With a happy, cheerful tone she then informed me about my uniform.
It was common for middle-class households to avoid paying for uniforms as they were expensive. So, they would usually instruct us to wear some simple, clean, light clothes. Commissioning custom-made uniforms from a skilled tailor was considered a luxury as many would not be able to afford them- the expense would usually cover a person's monthly meal cost.
As such, middle-class households were forced to strike a balance between maintaining their appearance and keeping their finance in check, as even for them, they would only spend it for special occasions.
She then presented me with a silver-colored box, which had the branding of the region's most popular tailor, Mr.Lexmon.
The silver box contained 12 sets of clothing. The clothes did not have any particular design or pattern, more than an work uniform, they looked like what middle class kids would wear to their school.
The clothes looked of higher quality, atleast compared to mine.
With a gentle reminder, she instructed me with her cheerful smile, "Don't forget to wear them to school, so you can come to work in them from tomorrow".
My employer's wife was more excited then me, it was like a grandmother wanting to see her grandson in nice clothes.
Suddenly, the distinct sound of a cane resonated through the air, it was that of my employer. From the sound of his steps, it was evident that he was in a joyful mood.
Whenever he was feeling cheerful, he would make sounds with his cane, and steps, he would try his best to create noise, most of the time, his wife would usually comment something like, "He is still a kid in his heart".
Clutching his cane, my employer strode into the house and proceeded to his room. The atmosphere was punctuated by a resounding thud as he placed the cane in its cherry wood holder, which he had custom-built a year ago during the visit of a famous woodworker.
After some time there was again the sound of him removing the cane from his cherry wood holder, then again was a little sound of him walking while making the cane make sound with the floor by hitting it.
He emerged from his room and addressed me, "Is it not getting rather late? Do you intend to stay here today?"
His question caught me off guard. Confused I reached for my pocket watch, seeking clarity in its needles. The hour hand was at 6 while the minute hand was between 9 and 10, it was 6:47, only deepening my uncertainty. Sensing my hesitation my employer commented, "Ah, it appears there's still time left. You may continue your work till 7 o'clock."
Silently, my employer's wife checked my watch then she moved towards the nearby desk.
On the desk, there was a lamp that was lit by Kerosene, some books, that were printed by my employers company, and some other things.
She then pulled the drawer which was on the left side of the desk, the drawer contained some niche items along with a bronze pocket watch.
The time on the watch was just two minutes early to seven fifteen (7:13), My employer had a meeting to attend in Lecnce this night, with only two available hackney cabs servicing the route—one early in the morning and the other set to leave around 7:30 in the evening—the urgency of the situation intensified.
My employer's wife turned to me and expressed her concern for my safety as I was quite young to travel alone at night.
She then advised me to accompany her husband, my employer on his journey till it nears my house.
In the carriage, my employer sat on the corner seat, the seats in the carriage were two rows, the carriage was not for families or friends, to travel together, but too, the rows were facing each other.
My employer was holding his cane in his right hand while leaning on it in an ungentlemanly way.
As the carriage reached near my house, my employer started to speak, he told me while pointing towards the box with his cane, "If you don't wish to wear them, then it's fine we won't force you to wear them".
He also spoke with me about how boring it would be to visit his wife's sister's party, he said that if I did not find a carriage it would be fine as he did not wish to attend it.
With a smirk, I replied that a good cart was on the way for the sunday.
...
I wanted to ask "Why do you treat me differently? Compared to other families, you see me as a child and not your servant?".
I knew that if I had said that he would be heartbroken, as they did not have a child of their own, they thought of me as their son.
I did not mind it and was a little happy about thinking about my good life.
A normal servant would typically get around 1 medium coins, it was handed out each week, and a loaf of bread would cost about eight to ten small coins.
A normal family of three would need nearly 3 or 4 medium coin for a month if the expense of everything they needed was included and also including the tax it would be about ten.
Each week I was getting about fourty or fourty five small coins.
Normally servants of my age get nearly 7 or 10 small coins.
A small coin has a bronze color and the imprint of a little dog, A thousand small coins is equal to one medium coin.
Medium coins have a distinct bronze color, medium coins have an imprint of a torch, and a thousand medium coins is equal to one low coin.
Low coins have the imprint of a fairy and are covered in silver colored paint, one thousand low coins would be equal to one high coin, high coins are covered in real gold and have the imprint of the royal court, and one thousand high coins are equal to one linage coin, it had the print of King Lucar the IV.
I walked near my house, clenched my fist for a second, because of the cold, and used my right hand to pull the door, to open my way into my house.
As soon as I entered, I was hugged by my little brother, he had no name, the reasons was simple a naming ceremony would take about 20 or 50 medium coins depending on the priest, and a name would only be given to a person's 10th birthday after that the person would need to pay a number of taxes to live, under the protection of the kingdom.
My little brother is an angel, he is so cute, so good mannered, he is well liked by my parents, me and also by our cat, even the neighbours adore him by giving him sweets and chocolates.
The neighbours even spend their money by buying chocolates for us.
***
Lione Herfelt was the name of an popular author from Britain, she was 24 years old.
"Miss Lione", "Miss Lione Herfelt has won the newcomers writing award". There was applause, Lione walked up to the stage, Mr. Newman was the host, he was known for his clever and humorous remarks.
They chatted about her award-winning novel, Dream of Two, a novel about two boys named Edward and Eleven, both in their early teen life. When Leven dies by jumping from their school roof. What will happen to Edward?
Mr. Newman asked Lione "How did you get the idea of the novel?", to which Lione answered, "It was when I was in ninth or tenth grade, I and my best friend Kishan, we were talking, and when he said because of the exama he might die, and then, he said that he will haunt me, for which I replied, "Then you better help me copy answers from others answer paper".
...
On the morning of 25/10/2007, there was an incident Lione's best friend Kishan died because of some mysterious incident, the news did not come in the headlines, and it was not even left in the memories of people, it might be because Kishan was not a popular person or might be because 'something' might had it's hand at the play, but who knows the truth?.
Slowly but surely, something had made everyone forget about him. Lione had forgotten about her best friend, Kishan's parents did not remember him, and the world was the same old one, except there was no Kishan.
Who was Kishan, you ask?, Kishan is the author of 'Eye of Space' and 'A Survival Guide to a New World'.
...
Kishan woke up, he was neither in heaven nor in hell, all his life he had not done crime, he had never even pirated books, nor movies, he had paid money for the songs which he listened and also he paid for his friends, "if any of my friends are reading this please share me your xxx (not the one you are thinking this is like placeholder for any service) account aswell", if he got a text like this then Kishan was the type to buy another subscription for that particular service for his friends.
Kishan was puzzled, he could not see nor sense, he was afraid of dark but, he felt something more of a kind energy then an evil one.
He could not hear, even though he could not sense he knew he had a ear, he did not know nor understand why.
A voice spoke from behind him, it told him, "My child, why are you here. Did you lose your way?, say my dear child what has happened to you?".
Kishan wanted to answer the sweet voice, but he could not here nor sense his body, he knew had a mouth but he could not sense to use it, he could talk but could not hear or even sense that he talked.
"My dear", said the sweet honey of a voice. Kishan could see, he did not know how but he could he turned his head to see what was talking to him.
He turned his head to see...
*
As soon as he hugged me, I felt my tiredness fly away, he was 6 years old, and he was my little brother. My mother came near us and said to my little brother that he should stop doing it as soon as I entered our house, and then she asked him to watch over the milk as she was chopping the potato and carrots to make soup.
Soon came the sound of someone walking, it was my father, as soon as he opened the door and came inside, the person who should have been watching over the milk jumped and hugged Father.
Soon was a cry from my mother screaming at my little brother as the milk was spilled from the heat. She scolded him not to leave watching the milk, to which he replied that he had left the job to the big man, he was referring to our cat, which was a stray one, it had many scars on its face, and its body was quite weak.
The cat looked confused by the words of my little brother, it quickly checked the stove and found the milk spilled all over the table.
The milk was ruined and the table had to be wiped clean.