NaNoWriMo-vel Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Raoul

Blank had been walking for what felt like hours. The path he had taken looked like it would stretch on into infinity.

“What if they had sent me down the wrong path?” He muttered crossly, digging his hands into his gray cotton pants. Irritably, he kicked at a stone and watched it fly ahead, only to see it disappear in front of him. The landscape before him rippled the way water would whenever a pebble, lure or anything was thrown into it to disturb its surface.

Curious, Blank moved closer and reached out and found his digits passing through what appeared to be an illusion. He wriggled his fingers, feeling them touch nothing but air. Braving the unknown, Blank continued to slide his arm further and further past the image of a dark, imprenetrable woodland where the path led. Finally, he had gone completely through and saw before him an enormous porch.

It was hewed completely from obsidian wood, not the sort that started out brown and was painted obsidian. No, this was the kind of tree that from the very first time its leaves sprouted from the ground it took on the color of midnight. There were three steps leading to the large, cherrywood door where an ivory knocker in the shape of a squid hung. The only reason Blank could tell there were three steps was because of the gold leaves embossed on their surface. Otherwise, there could have been one step for all he could see.

He looked around, warily for any other rare or exotic creature the Edelbertons might be housing. There were no gorgons, no pygmy bog-boars, no harpies, devil manatees or any other worrisome predator of humans. Breathing a sigh of relief, Blank walked up the steps and reached out for the knocker.

He paused, as if expecting the thing to start shrieking or objecting at being touched by a filthy, stupid human. But no, it was a mere door knocker, that was all it was. As he finished rapping against the door a few times, Blank stood back to wait. It was not long before the door squeaked open a crack and an assessing saffron eye peered at him.

“G-good day, I’m Blakeford Kings and I’ve been summoned by-”

“Yes, yes, do come in, Master Blank. The family has been expecting you.” Came a warm, cheerful voice as the door swung open wide enough to reveal who it was that spoke. Blank was relieved to find it was a rather short, portly man, the tips of his combed over dark hair was peppered white. He sported a jovial smile, practically hidden beneath a bushy, bristly mustache of the same hue as his hair. His skin was pale, as if he had simply forgotten to step outside of the house for all fifty something years of his life. Dressed smartly in silk with navy blue and white pin-stripes ending in elegant sapphire cufflinks, Blank felt and looked extremely drab in his fading gray cotton suit by comparison.

Then again, when have I ever looked good enough to be remembered? The young man thought ruefully. “Are you Sir Kairhn?” he asked as he entered.

The older man looked insulted for a split second, it was so brief that Blank wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. “Oh no, no, no, no, Master Blank. Sir Kairhn is the current Master of the house, I am Schyll Qwell, the family’s lawyer. I have watched the young Master grow up to a...” he paused as if trying to find the appropriate word, “Fine young man.” He smiled.

There was just something in the way Schyll spoke about Kairhn that made the hair on the back of Blank’s neck stand on end. Perhaps it was the suppressed fury that he detected lingering in the lawyer’s voice? Or was it the malice that glittered faintly in his saffron eyes? Whatever it was, Blank knew better than to ask.

“My mistake then.” He bowed in apology.

Schyll laughed and thumped him hard on the back. “Quite understandable, my boy. It isn’t as if you’re accustomed to running in the same social circles as the Edelbertons. No matter, no harm done. At least you hadn’t said that in front of the young Master, oh I don’t know what he would have done, though.” The last part was spoken as a grim warning, which Blank took to heart.

He was going to have to be extremely careful with his words around the Edelberton family, it seemed. How he managed to keep himself from whimpering as the feeling of dread from earlier came back with reinforcements, Blank could only guess. He felt Schyll’s meaty hand rest good naturedly on his shoulder and begin to lead him from the foyer to the study.

Only one pair of footsteps could be heard, cheap leather soles noisily squeaking on smooth, polished floors. Eyes lingered on portraits and tapestries, fingers itched to touch the realistic busts that threatened at any given moment to break out into a tirade. Or song. Or both. Blank couldn’t help himself, certainly he wasn’t of the slums but he wasn’t accustomed to such posh surroundings either. It made him feel terribly uncultured. He wondered what Schyll thought of him and why the older man kept his hand insistently on Blank’s shoulder.

As if taking a cue from the awkward glances the scribe made to the limb, Schyll gave him a disarming smile. “Just making sure you don’t get lost. I’ve seen it happen far too often to visitors, the Edelbertons late Master Raoul had a fondness for enchanted things. He was a collector to be certain and he himself was very talented in sorcery.” He explained.

Blank nodded silently, he disliked getting involved with anything magical. He had no problem writing down tales or jotting down escapades involving magic, so long as he didn’t have to experience any of them first hand he was happy.

They eventually came upon a carpeted hallway and strode into it. All the while, Schyll was idly chattering about the weather and how most of the youths in Silar were getting far too big for their britches.

“They believe the world revolves around them. Nonsense and poppycock! Most of them don’t even respect their elders’ last wishes.” He harrumphs, clapping his hand against Blank’s shoulder for the umpteenth time. “What about you, lad? Do you respect the requests of your parents and older relatives?”

“Begging your pardons sir, but they hardly remember I exist unless I’m right in front of them. Sometimes they even forget I’m there.” Blank shrugs, “But on the rare occasion they do remember me, I do follow so long as it’s nothing ridiculous like cutting an ear off or swimming naked in the milliwood fish ponds.”

“Not even if they gave you a good reason to do so?”

“I suppose if the reasons were sound and beneficial to both parties, why not?” He answers, becoming more and more uneasy with the conversation they were having. “Why do you ask, Sir?”

“Oh well, you shall find out soon enough.” Schyll nods almost sagely, he seemed pleased with Blank’s response. At least Blank hoped that was what the knowing smile meant.

* * * * *

Finally, the reached a pair of double doors carved to resemble an eight sided coin. The handles were thick brass rings hanging from the beaks of octupi, their eight tentacles spread out around them like the sun’s rays. Schyll finally released his hold on Blank and with his meaty hands, yanked at the rings to open the doors.

“Master Schyll Qwell and Master Blank have arrived.” The lawyer announced formally before ushering the scribe into the study. Floating near the ceiling were several glowing crystal orbs, their light far brighter than any chandelier could produce. They cast shadows upon the rows and rows of ceiling-high shelves filled with volumes upon volumes of books. Heavy velvet curtains covered the windows and tapestries decorated the walls. Above an unlit fireplace was a portrait of a man. A handlebar mustache adorned his upper lip, and his dark, jet black hair was sleeked back. The brocade coat and cravat made him look slim, hiding the fact that the man was nearing six decades. His picture was painted in such a way that no matter where one stood in the room, it feels as if his monocled gray eyes were watching every movement. And at the moment, it seemed like his attention was focused on the set of furniture grouped in front of him.

Seated in four very plush armchairs upholstered in the finest velvet were four people who looked nothing like each other. The oldest of the four was a man with skin the color of rich honey. His hair, a dark lavender that bordered on plum, fell in waves to just below his shoulder blades. His frame was large, muscular, masculine, and his gaze of deep amber was cold as he glanced at the other three tritely. Dressed in a silken shirt that seemed to have been spun out of the very same obsidian as the porch’s, his broad chest peered out from the low neck of the collar. His pants, made from the hide of a vicious blood-thirsty equine, seemed to have been tanned perfectly to his legs to reveal well toned muscles.

“About damn time.” He sneered at Schyll. “I thought my twenty ninth birthday would arrive before you and the hired help would.”

The youngest of the group was a woman who looked to be two decades old and was located on the far left armchair. Her flaxen hair, bound up in pigtails bobbed from her movement and though she gave the image of innocence, Blank could tell she knew far more things that he ever would in his lifetime. Sharp, cat-like eyes of the brightest azure glittered in amusement as she gave Blank the once over. Her alabaster skin was shielded from the crystal orbs’ bright glow the high-necked, pearl-colored bodice that narrowed at her waist before they flared into the bell of her voluminous champaign-pink skirt. Her lips curled and revealed a flash of white, though the way she smiled made terror-induced shivers shoot up Blank’s spine.

“At least they’re here, Kairhn. Isn’t that what matters?” her voice that chimed like soft bells belied the malice in her eyes.

“No mind games with this one, Marlene.” The woman seated to the left Kairhn warned. “We haven’t the time to waste in looking for a replacement.” She pushed her round, golden spectacles up the bridge of her nose with a slender, black-lace covered hand before turning her attention to Blank and Schyll. Imperiously, she stared at Blank with condescending, emerald eyes, and the lines near her lips were clear indications that the corners of her mouth were consistently curved downward. Her copper hair was pulled back into a severe bun, giving her a most spinster-like quality. Had the bodice of her red, leather gown not been plunging towards her navel to reveal olive hued skin and the ample cleavage of her bussom, Blank would have thought she might very well have been on the road to spinsterdom.

“You’re no fun, Sharel.” Marlene huffed, folding her arms across her minimal chest. “Tell her she’s being no fun, Surge.” She demanded, turning to the gentleman to her right.

Surge, looked highly uncomfortable as he fidgeted with the burgundy fedora atop his short cropped platinum blonde hair. Pulling the brim of his hat down to almost cover his coal-hued eyes, he merely shook his head as if washing his hands of the entire matter. “I’m not getting involved, Marlene.” His squeaky voice cracked, as if not having quite reached manhood despite being five years the blonde’s senior. Lanky was the only word Blank could think of to describe him, boney and knobby came close. The mahogany brown double breasted suit had been tailored to give the illussion of girth, but unless his clothing was enchanted, Surge still looked as if he needed to be fed. What with his high cheek bones, angular jaw, and narrow shoulders.

Marlene glared daggers at him and the tips of her fingers crackled dangerously with magic. As he pulled his hat off, Surge suddenly produced a silver dagger and had its tip pressed against the younger woman’s neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He warned, his voice suddenly deepening. But Marlene didn’t seemed perturbed as she tapped a finger on the blade.

“Ooooh, nice toy you have here.” She leered.

Sharel once again pushed her glasses up her nose, the glare the orbs made on her glasses hid the direction of her gaze. “Both of you stop at once, this behavior is quite umbecoming of the Edelberton name. Uncle Schyll is here, not to mention we have ourselves a visitor.”

“A witness, you mean.” Kairhn snorted. “But most witnesses can easily be bought off. Or silenced.” A flash of perfect white teeth.

Blank tried his best not to stare in shock at the scene unfolding before him, tried to look away or at the very least pretend there was nothing going on. He tried. It was only when Schyll tapped him on the shoulder did Blank realize his mouth was open and, sheepishly, close it.

“If you are all done frightening the poor lad,” Schyll cleared his throat, “We shall get down to business.”

Immediately the four settled back down. “Don’t be shy, come and be seated, the both of you.” Marlene suggested, gesturing to an empty ottoman beside her as she eyed Blank.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Surge added, placing his fedora back on his head. “You’ll be much safer beside Sharel.”

“So long as he doesn’t try anything, he should be fine.” The bespectacled woman smirked. Blank thought it best to just keep silent and sit down on the cushioned chair by Sharel’s side. Looking at the four, the young man couldn’t help but wonder just what he was getting himself into.

Schyll situated himself at a considerable distance from the group as he took out a heavily folded parchment from an inner pocket of his suit. “Now that we have met the necessary requirements, it is time for the late Master Raoul Wellstrom Edelberton’s will to be read.”

“Who?” Blank found himself asking.

“That guy.” Surge motioned to the portrait above the fireplace.

“But I’ve never met him before, why am I needed?”

“Silence, or I will crush your throat with my bare hands.” Kairhn growled, he didn’t appear to be the sort who made idle threats.

“We’ve been waiting for weeks to hear this will, we don’t wish to wait a moment longer.” Sharel explained.

Blank listened as Schyll read out the contents of the will, absently he wondered if he was supposed to be jotting all this down. But that would be redundant as Schyll was already reading aloud from an actual document. His name never came up, neither as Blakeford Kings nor his ridiculous nickname of Blank. So it was only understandable that after Schyll finished reading how the belongings, the estate, the land and all the other things were to be divided, Blank was thoroughly confused as to what his purpose was.

Again, as if on cue to his constant nervous glances, Schyll declared “Which leads us to the few stipulations before those present are legally able to claim their ownership of the aforementioned possessions.”

“Stipulations?” Marlene quirked a brow, “You mean there’s more than just having an independent third party present?”

“Yes, Marlene, there is in fact quite a number of stipulations. The first being your Uncle Raoul wishes for certain issues to be brought to light.” Schyll reached into another inner pocket and produced a small, crimson envelope, which he handed over to Blank.

“The third party must be an individual capable of turning verbal dialogues into a properly transcribed document. Said documents are to be collected, bound and burned by the flames of judgement before the Edelberton’s fortunes are to be touched in any manner. The properties, the lands, the funds apart from your current trust funds and allowances are all under enchantment-”

“As if that’s anything new,” Kairhn snorts in contempt.

“And are not to be disturbed in any manner, unless they wish for a most foul curse to fall upon them.” Schyll cautioned and eyed the honey-skinned man in particular.

Kairhn ignored the glare, “Fine, fine, what are these issues Uncle Raoul wished to bring to light?”

“That is for him,” a finger pointed to Blank, “To know and for the rest of you to find out. All the details should be in that envelope and allow me to be frank but I am most curious myself.”

“Whatever for, Uncle Schyll?” Marlene asked, pig-tails bouncing as she tilted her head sideways.

“Well,” he coughed, “I didn’t opened the envelope. While it I’m not certain if Raoul cursed it or not, I’d rather not take the chance.”

That did not bode well for Blank.