《Seeking among the stars》 Chapter One A ship of steel, brass and wood slowly crawled towards a great towering metropolis of towering chimneys spilling smog and dyeing both the sky blackish grey. The capital of the Empire, Lindholm was drawing closer by the minute as the ship made way for the bastion of reason and science. Towering spires surrounded the capitol, made from steel and laws of science were carved into the monolithic surfaces and then gilded with gold that glimmered in the midday sun. Massive parchments hung like banners from them with formulas and definitions of the natural order. The laws of man, decreed and quantified by them. Observations, calculations. Theories. Truth. The ship fell in line with the dozens of ships arriving from the mainland and headed for the great docks of the capitol in an orderly queue to unload their cargo. A smiling man was standing at the bow along with other passengers and watched the great docks of Lindholm. He wore undyed grey trousers held up by suspenders and a slightly bleached coarse shirt. His legs were bare of shoes and were wrapped in muddy cloth but stood among the deck with passengers of middling wealth. The man¡¯s blue eyes underneath wavy medium-length blond hair that hung loose in the wind watched the colossal colony ships of the empire with a serene curiosity. The great ships were fully enveloped in metal and capable of descending into the depths of the sea to colonize them. They had their loading bays open, and people flowed around them with purpose like ants around their hives. Massive pallets were unloaded from one of the ships, unmistakably filled with dried seaweed, to feed the ever-expanding capitol''s demand for sustenance. The man rubbed his angular jawline and enjoyed the coarse feeling of a stubble that had grown on to it as it observed Lindholm and its curios like the great clockwork towering above everything at the center of the capitol and next to it the eternal palace. Their great vermillion banners lined in gold with a white center circle with a black laurel wreath gilded with gold opening upwards inside it, enveloped the palaces with two wings that surrounded the grand entrance to the court. The greyish stone of the palace was lined with black metal with golden text like the monolith¡¯s and at a distance looked like golden veins circulating the black metal. As the ship docked the man rummaged through his pocket and brought out a chained metal medallion without any ornaments beyond a chain of silver attached to it and his trousers and opened it, revealing a folded letter attached to the lid. The container, itself housed a small nautilus-shaped seashell that fit perfectly into the medallion. The shell was mostly white with black septa¡¯s separating its chambers at its dorsal and its entrance was lined with uneven muddy red staining that quickly weathered to white. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The man took the seashell and brought it to his ear before turning to watch the city once more. Slowly a whisper came from the seashell, causing the man to feel vertigo as the world began to lose its color, becoming white and black before the two colors inverted suddenly. The world was enveloped in black with a white city and its people swarming within in a multitude of shades of white mixed with black. There was no other sound remaining beside the whisper. Intelligible ramblings in hushed tones. He felt the breath of the lips sealed in the shell caress his earlobe as it whispered while he scanned the city. He felt a certain wetness below his nose and an uncomfortable pressure inside it, his nose was bleeding, as the hushed unordainable whispers began to make sense, the desecrated lips kissed his ear and promised wisdom beyond the mundane with a seductive whisper. With a frown, he sealed the shell back into the medallion and wiped his nose. ¡°Are you alright sir?¡± Came from his side as he wiped the blood away on his face with little progress. The man turned towards the voice and smiled apologetically at the young couple who looked at him worriedly. The couple was well off, but in a way that did not betray haughtiness nor superiority. A middle class of wealth with fine but well-used clothes that had been repaired occasionally by expert hands. The husband was slightly rotund with a thick brown mustache and the same colored short hair, hidden underneath a bowler hat and a dark everyday suit. The wife wore a dress of deep blue with white lace covering her fully with a sun hat of the same color. Her wheat-colored hair and green eyes looked at the man with a slight worry as it was proper. He cleared his throat awkwardly. ¡°Yes, I apologize for showing such a sorry state of mine.¡± The man said with a slight league accent in his pronunciation. The husband pulled out a napkin from his trouser pocket and handed it to the man with a friendly smile, to which the man''s smile grew relieved, and he bowed slightly to the couple before taking the napkin and cleaning up. ¡°Many thanks, kind sir and madam.¡± The man said as he cleaned himself. The couple smiled and the husband tipped his hat slightly in response. ¡°Nothing serious I hope?¡± The husband asked politely. The bloodied man jumped slightly at the question and waved around hurriedly in denial. ¡°Oh heavens no, no, just some health problem I got when I worked as a child. Told it was what it was, but never remember what they called it.. Something with air..¡± The man sputtered out. ¡°Ah! Quite common I¡¯ve heard.¡± The husband nodded in agreement before extending a hand towards the stranger, ¡°Jones Walcott¡± He introduced himself. ¡°And this is my lovely wife, Anna.¡± The stranger smiled before looking at the bloodied white napkin awkwardly, but Jones waved him off with his other hand, indicating it was no issue. The stranger looked visibly relieved as he put the napkin into his pocket and shook Jones¡¯ hand. ¡°Oscar Schwarzenm¨¹ller, a pleasure, and thank you,¡± Oscar said cheerfully as he shook Jones¡¯ hand firmly. Jones smiled as they shook hands, ¡°Think nothing of it my friend from the League, I presume¡± He spoke, earning him a friendly nod of confirmation from Oscar. With the handshake done Oscar turned to Anna and bowed slightly. ¡°Matron.¡± Anna smiled gracefully and curtsied in turn to him. With the introduction out of the order, Jones cleared his throat to return Oscar¡¯s attention to him, ¡°I couldn¡¯t help seeing how you listened to the seashell before your ailment acted out. An interesting item to carry around.¡± He queried curiously his wife nodding with interest. Oscar laughed slightly and patted his trouser pocket. ¡°A memento.¡± ¡°And a reminder.¡± He added as he fished out the medallion again and rubbed it with a thumb. ¡°Of a woman, mayhaps?¡± Anna asked in a gossipy voice as she covered her mouth as she gave a slight gossipy giggle. ¡°A seashell from the beach visited with a lover at home?¡± Oscar smiled at the question and looked at the medallion but shook his head in response, ¡°Nothing as romantic, just a reminder of old life left behind.¡± ¡°All to disembark!¡± Came a shout from one of the crew, cutting the conversation short as the ship docked. Oscar thanked the couple again before leaving the ship while holding the medallion while in his thoughts. He gained nothing from the shell, the lips of the overdosed addict sealed in the seashell had given him nothing to work with, only empty promises and lies. As always.. The ability to see beyond the veil was a great boon from the lips who had pierced the veil and died on the other side. Oscar opened the medallion and looked at the folded weathered ineligible letter as he walked into the crowded docks. With a sigh, he closed the medallion once more and returned it to its rightful place in his pocket before joining the crowds. He had now reached his beginning, Lindholm. A city of progress, enlightenment... ¡­And corruption, decadence and hedonism. ¡°The brightest light casts the greatest shadow,¡± Oscar muttered quietly before smiling and looking at the busy docks, filled with riches and opulence divided with destitution and poverty in one place. A melding pot of controversies and cultures as the docks were filled with immigrants, workers and gentle folk alike. Separate but there. ¡®A perfect place for a beginning¡¯ He thought. Chapter Two Oscar made his way along the wave of disembarked crowds forward towards the city proper on the cobblestone streets. He kept his hands in his pockets and watched the sights along his path. The peddlers of the fish market peddled their wares to smiling at the young washing ladies when making eye contact as he passed their workplace. He stopped along the way with others and watched some street performers along the way, showing marvelous and exotic performances from distant and close lands. He kept smiling along the way but inside he couldn¡¯t help but feel as if it was all hollow. There was a certain, feeling in the air as the streets took him deeper. A certain lifelessness, a monotony of life veiled over by a gilded colorful veil of humdrum. He stopped and glanced to an alley to the side. He was nearing the grand market, the arterial heart of the capitol where all roads would take you if you¡¯d walk or ride a carriage long enough. He could smell the various spices, herbs, perfumes and myriad foods drifting from there. Somebody bumped into him from behind due to his sudden stop, but he ignored it and weaved into the alley. Compared to the grand road it was small and decrepit with barely any light entering the forlorn side path in between venerable brick buildings with a restaurant and a shop individually on the ground floor while housing was on the two upper floors. The beginning of the alley was mostly clean and covered in packed dirt with some side paths for the residents of the buildings to reach their housing along with some trash along the sides of the alley. The alley itself went on with more tall buildings, crisscrossing with more paths into a dense residential district of sorts with alleys as pathways. Laundry lines crossed the buildings with clothing drying on the upper residences. Oscar began to walk the alley inwards, looking at the people lounging or chatting in windows, it felt surreally different from the grand road he had walked along the crowd. Soon the lively sounds of the road made way to the sounds of ordinary living and the quiet steps of him and the occasional pedestrian walking past him. Eyes of the neighborhood watched him as he walked their alley, observing him as he observed them. He soon came out the other side of the backstreets onto another road, this one different than the crowded walkway, carts and carriages pulled by horses ran in the middle while the pedestrians kept to the sides. The road itself was packed dirt like the alley and on the other side a mix of more residential blocks, larger compounds of workshops and warehouses that ran along the road. The occasional shop or tavern also intermingled with the rest of the buildings occasionally but there was a certain lack of opulence that showed he had reached the common areas of the large city with shops and taverns catering to the needs of everyday life. Oscar leaned onto the edge of the alley and fished out a box of tobacco with some rolling paper inside as well and rolled a cigarette and put it in his mouth before taking out a box of matches. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. He lit the cigarette and dragged his lungs full of acrid smoke as he watched the traffic calmly and letting the tobacco hit him before exhaling slowly. It was mid-afternoon in an unfamiliar town without a place of residence. He finished his cigarette and let it fall to the ground before choosing a tavern that stuck his fancy and headed there, quickly crossing the street and making his way to the establishment. He entered the red brick tavern and came upon the wooden interior that reminded him of the feasting halls of the league. The hall was empty besides a couple of patrons sitting and enjoying some hearty meal that they drowned in ale. The tavern keep nodded at him from behind the counter as he entered to which he responded in kind and made his way to the tavern keep. The proprietor was a middling man of greying hair and a hearty physique and well-worn brown clothing with slight adornments on the sleeves and neckline that was mostly hidden by a large, stained leather apron. ¡°Got a hearty thick stew with sausage and proper ale to offer as a meal.¡± The man said in an unhurried tone as Oscar reached the counter. ¡°Meals twelve pence with ale on the side.¡± Oscar nodded with a smile and brought out his money pouch tied to from within his trousers and brought forth a silver coin with a mint of ¡®1¡¯ on one of its sides and gave it to the proprietor who nodded and returned a large copper coin with a ¡®10¡¯ on it along with three small copper coins with a denominator of ¡®1¡¯. Without a word the tavern keep turned around and headed towards a doorway leading to a kitchen as Oscar sat down in a corner after putting the coins in his pouch and tucking it back in. He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen watching as the tavern keep talked with a wizened matron with auburn hair and a face with slight signs of crow¡¯s feet and laughing lines while leaning against the doorway. She was dressed like, the proprietor, most likely a pair of husband and wife. Oscar watched as they made small talk as the woman ladled the stew into a bowl before glancing at him for a moment before skimming a few more pieces of sausage from the pot and adding it to his bowl and adding a spoon before handing it to her husband who gave a grunt in thanks and waltzed back to the hall proper and expertly served a tankard of ale from a tapped cask with one hand. With eased moment he glided from behind the counter into the hall proper and zoomed to Oscar¡¯s table of choice. With his meal served Oscar nodded cheerfully to the man, ¡°My gratitude.¡± Before turning towards the kitchen and taking a thankful bow towards the woman who was now leaning in the doorway and keeping an eye on them both. ¡°And my regards to the matron.¡± He said with a smile as he turned towards the husband who smirked and let out a hearty laugh. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll tell her.¡± He said and slowly sat down on the bench on the other side with a slight groan. ¡°Always appreciates the patrons complimenting her stew.¡± He added as he wiped his hands on the apron. ¡°But never cares when I say so.¡± He laughed heartily before motioning at the stew, ¡°Eat up or she¡¯ll have both our heads for ruining her stew by letting it grow cold.¡± With a laugh and a nod Oscar dug into his first meal of the day, leaning over his bowl and holding it with his other hand. He enjoyed the extra sausage bursting with broth and fat before washing it down with some ale. With an airy exhale he nodded appreciatively at his host who smirked matter-of-factly and leaned his head on his hand as Oscar continued eating. ¡°So.¡± He started and tilted his head slightly ¡°New around these parts?¡± He asked with a cheeky grin. ¡°Aven¡¯t seen you around er before.¡± Oscar chortled mid digging into the stew and grinning at the man ¡°How¡¯d you guess?¡± he asked before continuing and looking at the proprietor whose grin turned mischievous as he leaned back. He motioned widely around his tavern ¡°Old timers¡± He motioned at the few other patrons to the side who laughed and toasted towards them. ¡°And newcomers come around this time¡± He laughed and pointed at Oscar who joined laughing with the others and toasted back at the others before taking a big swig from the ale. Bringing the metal tankard down on the table he twitched slightly as the ale hit just right and grinned at the tavern keep again and raising the tankard to toast again ¡°Just off the ships.¡± He exclaimed before downing the ale. ¡°Ha!¡± The tavern keeper exclaimed and slapped his thigh before whistling at his wife who rolled her eyes before quickly bringing a bottle of schnapps and two glasses to the table. The man grinned like a small child as she waltzed over and put the bottle and glasses down. He leaned towards his wife while pursing his lips, who gently laughed at the sigh and leaned over smiling as he kissed her on the cheek, eliciting Oscar and the patrons to laugh and whistle. She left back to the kitchen with a smile and a slight blush as the husband passed over a glass while taking the other. ¡°The woman of my dreams.¡± He grinned as he poured schnapps to both of them and raised a glass, with Oscar raising his own. ¡°To new beginnings¡± The tavern keeper exclaimed loudly while looking at the glass above him, before turning towards Oscar, ¡°And to new regulars!¡± He cheekily added. ¡°To new beginnings¡± Oscar toasted, and they downed their glasses. "¡°And new regulars¡±" The other patrons added as they toasted as well. ¡°And new regulars!¡± Oscar laughed and nodded at the other regulars and the hosts of the tavern ¡®Home away from home¡¯. Chapter Three With a slight warmth and smile Oscar left the tavern behind, walking further into the great city. Before leaving he had asked for some guidance to know the lay of the land, and now with a filled belly and guidance he made his way through the winding maze of streets. His path led him deep, from maintained roads, cobbled with stone and pavement to dirt tracks. Buildings slowly turned from venerable masonry to more, dilapidated structures. As the neighborhoods changed so did the populace. Decay and stagnation was ascendant in both in structures and people as the slums'' muddy streets splattered underneath his feet staining the feet wraps muddy. Empty eyes followed him from the alleys and hollowed people scuffled with him among the streets. Even the occasional life and cheer in these despairing streets were weathered and quiet, devoured by the smog in the air like affliction consuming its victim. His feet stopped upon a building left separate from the rest among the densely packed shacks and shanties. It stood, hollow among its empty courtyard of dried vegetation. A temple with a cresting sun painting above its entrance. Weathered and bleached was its color, oddly fitting to the neighborhood. The temple was slowly rotting, with makeshift repairs of new wood added to its structure, yet it stood out among the shacks as a structure of quality. The original wood had the quality of wood craftsmanship that the hastily raised shacks did not. It had a presence of stoutness and stability befitting of the stalwart radiance of the sun. Oscar walked through the mossy but dead courtyard and entered the open doors in quiet contemplation. The insides held no opulence beyond a quiet, sacred ambiance among its wooden pews and altar in front. A massive sun-shaped stained window in yellow coloring at the end of the temple that faced the midday sun brought no light to the dark hall of worship. Only the hundreds of candles surrounding the window radiated a hollow light to the darkness around the altar leaving the rest in soltidue darkness. Oscar stopped before the rows of pews, covering his eyes with his right hand and bowing towards the icon of worship, the stained glass window. He stood and sat upon the last row of pews and cast his gaze towards the candlelight and the flickering light before the shadows. Slow gentle even paced steps sounded out behind him upon the softened wood before they stopped next to him, slightly behind him. ¡°I¡¯m ashamed of my place of worship.¡± The owner of the steps said in a calm morose voice. ¡°To shame the sun with this dark and wretched temple.¡± ¡°I find it apt,¡± Oscar said as he continued to watch the flames. ¡°One can truly appreciate the light only in darkness..¡± He turned around upon saying so and looked at the priest of the sun. A middle-aged man with a weathered and coarse face from hard life with plain grey robes and a thin white veil covering his eyes that still allowed him to see through it. Strapped leather was attached to his robes around the joints of his arms and tightened to allow freedom of movement and tighter fit of the loose robe. The waist had a similar but far thicker strap of leather acting as a belt to keep the upper part separate from the free flowing open robe at the bottom that showed the priest''s coarse brown trousers and wrapped sandals around his linen-wrapped feet. Just like Oscar, he was facing the altar in quiet veneration. ¡°I have always found that the radiant temples fail to do the light justice.¡± Oscar continued as he turned back towards the altar. ¡°But here in the dark, watching the flickering candlelight I can¡¯t help but find it hallow.¡± ¡°After a night the sun shines brightest.¡± The priest hummed in agreement before sitting down next to Oscar who nodded and added, ¡°And a spark in darkness blinding.¡± The priest sighed and turned towards Oscar who did the same. ¡°Alas, it is not by choice these halls venerate the light as such... But I find your view interesting.¡± Oscar said nothing and smiled before glancing at the illuminated altar once more. ¡®Would we venerate the light giver if we had no lightless nights filled with terror¡¯ He mused to himself. ¡°I must confess I came seeking, holy one,¡± Oscar said as he directed his focus back to the priest. ¡°Advice and direction.¡± The priest nodded and motioned him to continue with a slight smile. ¡°I just arrived from the mainland, holy one, and I seek employment and a place to rest after a day of labor under the sun,¡± Oscar explained. ¡°A rare thing to seek from a place of worship.¡± The priest mused. ¡°And alas not for me to give.¡± ¡°But I can illuminate a path towards your goal.¡± He continued as he stood up, eliciting Oscar to do the same. ¡°A family head a few houses from here injured himself upon working, an accident.¡± ¡°They have been seeking to rent their attic room to gain a few lindols extra and a helping hand around the house to offset the loss.¡± The priest explained as he guided Oscar out. ¡°They have been the cornerstone of the followers of this hall of worship for a long time and deserve respite from their worries.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Oscar nodded gratefully as he followed the priest to the doorsteps of the temple, where the priest gave directions toward his goal. He bowed to the priest in gratitude for his guidance and left the temple behind, following the paths as per guidance. He arrived shortly in front of a house of opulence compared to the surrounding shacks. Straight walls and two stories of maintained wood and lacquer squeezed in between large hovels. A triangular roof on top and a stone foundation on the bottom, it stood among the slums in defiance. No signs of.. malignancy upon the house was visible, showing the standing of the household among the community was venerable. It told of tales of finding meager wealth and giving back to the community. Its habitants likely lifelong inhabitants of these slums, and upon success had not haughtily forsaken their roots but proudly remained. Oscar walked to the simple sturdy door with a dark clasp for knocking and gathered himself for what was to become. Armed with only an unofficial recommendation of the priest and his meager savings he had. He grasped the clasp and knocked once, twice, before standing slightly back. Moments later the door creaked outwards and revealed a greying man with a cane. A grizzled short beard of pepper and salt and short cropped hair was neatly maintained and fit well with his black simple suit. A bronze chain hung from his breast pocket and jingled from the act of opening the door. Greyish-green eyes measured the boy in front of him. The gaze neither wary nor hostile, but one of confidence and experience. There was a bracer of wires of bronze clasping the man''s left leg, and despite the confidence of the gaze, the mouth revealed hints of pain from the clenched jaw as he winced upon setting the leg down. ¡°Yes?¡± The man asked simply at the unexpected visitor. ¡°Good evening, I am Oscar Schwarzenm¨¹ller.¡± Oscar introduced himself and smiled politely. ¡°I received word from the priest of the temple of the sun that you are seeking a tenant.¡± ¡°Aye, we are. I am Theodore Small¡± The man nodded, ¡°Come in then.¡± The man guided Oscar to a lounge with a sofa and a lounging chair around a coffee table. He gestured for Oscar to sit on the sofa before turning behind him. ¡°Sofia, visitor. Wants to rent the attic room.¡± He called out before sitting in the lounge chair with a sigh. ¡°Someone wanting to rent it?¡± Came a voice that moved closer as it spoke before a matron of dark brown hair and brown dress appeared from the hallway they came from. The dress was simple and easy to move in within the house and her hair was tied up in a ponytail. ¡°Good evening Mistress Small, I am indeed interested in the room. Oscar Schwarzenm¨¹ller.¡± Oscar greeted with a smile. ¡°Sent by Augustus apparently.¡± The man added. ¡°By Augustus, eh?¡± The matron mused before walking over to her husband, ¡° We do have a room available and unused now that the oldest has left the house.¡± Oscar nodded, ¡°I just arrived from the mainland and am seeking a place to stay, I confided in the priest of my plight and he gave me guidance to your doorstep. He told me you are seeking someone to help around the house and I¡¯m very willing on that front.¡± The matron and the husband exchanged a look before the wife continued after a moment, ¡° We are glad we have someone interested in it. With my husband unable to continue working, for now, it would be a blessing to have the room filled.¡± The husband nodded along and patted the wife¡¯s hand slightly who smiled encouragingly. ¡°Before continuing on that front, we hope you won¡¯t mind asking us to tell a bit about yourself.¡± The matron asked. ¡°But of course¡± Oscar smiled, ¡°As said, I am from the mainland, The League, Holmstein to be specific. Lived there since I came of age, working as a laborer early in my life, before gaining apprenticeship as a scribe.¡± ¡°So, you are a scribe by trade then?¡± The husband asked with interest. ¡°Alas, no.¡± Oscar shook his head with a forlorn look, ¡° Sadly I was not able to finish my apprenticeship.¡± ¡°May we ask what for?¡± The matron inquired, ¡°If this is not personal.¡± She added quickly. Oscar reminisced the years in the church and brought his hand upon his pocket medallion and caressed it. His father¡¯s sermons in the great hall. His strict teaching contrasting with his benevolent visage around the followers during his lectures. Himself in the darkness watching the radiant hall and his brother in the light with his father. His beloved brilliant brother. The illuminate brother and he the envious shadow. The heir and the spare. ¡°I had a falling out with my mentor.¡± He smiled slightly coming up from his musings. ¡°I never could live up to his expectations despite my efforts and he clearly did not want me around anymore. So, I left that life behind and took my savings and moved around the mainland a bit before coming here to continue my life.¡± The couple was quiet for a bit musing over his tale before exchanging glances once more and nodding to each other. The matron continued the conversation. ¡°You sound like a fine fit for us.¡± She stated while the husband nodded. ¡°As for rent.¡± She continued, ¡°Should you be interested in helping out in the house and around would be one Lindhol a week. With meals included.¡± Oscar nodded in consideration, a lindhol a week was one mark and 70 penns, a reasonable price. But not maintainable forever with his meager savings of 8 Lindhols and 20 pence without work. He turned towards the couple and smiled, ¡°I find it most agreeable.¡± The matron smiled and the husband nodded before standing up with a slight wince and offering a hand to shake to Oscar. They shook hands and the matron guided his husband to sit down again before addressing Oscar, ¡°Come, I¡¯ll show you your housing.¡± She said and made way to the hallway Oscar in tow. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss the specifics on a later date,¡± The matron said, ¡°With helping out and whatnot, Monday is the day rent is paid and is to be paid in advance. The room is furnished with the basic necessities, you can furnish it further as needed.¡± They climbed the stairs up and the matron motioned to the left at the end of the hallway, ¡°The lavatory is that door without any carvings, the other rooms are personal rooms of me, my husband, and our two daughters.¡± They turned left and turned a corner revealing a second, steeper stairway. ¡°The attic was our sons when he was older and wanted a personal space, now that he¡¯s come of age the attic stayed empty.¡± She said glancing over at Oscar who diligently followed and listened, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll meet him in the coming days as he¡¯s been visiting constantly due to my husband¡¯s injury.¡± ¡°The girls are still in evening school but should arrive in a few hours home, we¡¯ll inform them of the occupancy of the attic.¡± The matron narrated as she quickly climbed the stairs up while holding the hem of the dress slightly up. She opened the door separating the attic from the rest of the hallway and they entered a cozy small attic room with an inclined ceiling with a bed next to a small rectangular window and next to it a simple writing table with a chair along with some shelf space and a mirror hung from one of the shelves. There was a small iron fireplace slightly separate from the rest of the furnishing with iron sheets around it to keep the fire in check should embers fly out. The matron turned to Oscar who was looking at his new dwelling, he was content with the housing provided but it did not yet feel like home. He fished out his pouch and fished out a silver coin with a ¡®1¡¯ on it and handed it to the matron with a grateful smile. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said. The matron smiled and took the lindhol from him and nodded to him, ¡°I¡¯ll let you acquaint yourself with your new home, we¡¯ll call you once dinner is served and you can meet the girls.¡± She said before leaving. As he was left alone, his fa?ade crumbled, and he winced from smiling so much. He walked to the mirror and looked at the face partly hidden by the shadows cast by the slowly descending sun. A frowning face looked back at him with blue eyes peering from the shadows, judgmental. His father¡¯s eyes measured him, his inadequacy before Oscar closed his eyes and shook his head. He flipped over the mirror and walked over to his bed and sat down with a sigh before fishing out his medallion and taking out the weathered letter with illegible text beyond the first words. ¡®Dear brother,¡¯ It read in smudged cursive, despite it being almost as ruined as the rest of the ink. Oscar looked at the letter he never left behind in a daze. Slowly with a trembling finger, he touched the words. Before smudging those two last words remaining on the letter to oblivion. The tired man remained in silence with his thoughts, till it was time to once more don the mask of radiance. Chapter Four Oscar hummed gently as he descended the stairs. The matron had called him down. He had smelled it prior to the call and it smelled divine. He entered the downstairs hallway and politely stopped in front of the lounge. The master of the house was sitting in his chair while two young girls, a few years younger than Oscar sat on the sofa in a prim and proper way, in a sort of tense way a child sits when they are tense when there are unfamiliar visitors. Theodore, the father of the girls nodded at Oscar and motioned him to enter. ¡°Ah, Oscar. I hope the attic is to your liking.¡± He greeted, ¡°Girls this is Oscar who will be renting the attic. Oscar these are my daughters Elis.¡± He continued and motioned at the older girl with black hair who stood up and curtsied, ¡°..And Hannah.¡± He gestured at the other girl with dark brown hair who curtsied as well. ¡°And that is my blunderbuss.¡± He finally gestured at a fireplace behind him with a displayed blunderbuss in question with a slight smirk. ¡°Loaded with rock salt and my wrath to unleash upon potential suitors of my twin rays of sun.¡± Oscar laughed before bowing to the two girls and uttering a ¡®it¡¯s a pleasure¡¯ to them before looking at the firearm on display. ¡°While they are lovely, I¡¯m far more enamored with the suitor deterrent.¡± He said with twinkling eyes. ¡°Boys will be boys it seems¡± Came a laugh from a room leading into a dining room as the matriarch of the family entered while wiping her hands. ¡°Our son has a similar interest to the point I¡¯m surprised he¡¯s married now.¡± The girls smirked behind their hands at their mothers¡¯ words while looking at the new house member''s reserved curiosity. The husband grunted in agreement with a smile before standing up with his cane and swaggering up to the fireplace before motioning Oscar to join him, who eagerly skipped over. Oscar never really came in contact with firearms beyond from afar and from stories, so he eagerly looked at the contraption of metal with a wooden finish around its metal insides. The oddly delicate wood details on the shoulder and hand guard and their smooth finish and how the wood glistened due to the lacquer. ¡°Beautiful.¡± Oscar nodded in appreciation and Theodore nodded along. He took the blunderbuss down and handed it to the unexpecting hands of Oscar. ¡®Heavy¡¯ Was the first impression as his hands carried it in its arms. He quickly handed it back, fearing the gun might accidentally go off in his inexperienced hands, much to the mirth of the older gentleman who received it. He delicately returned the blunderbuss back on to its display before gently gliding his hand over the wood. ¡°Served me well over the years.¡± He muttered. ¡°Good gun.¡± Suddenly hands descended upon Oscar''s shoulders from behind, ¡°The greying coot I call a husband used to be an outrider in the army before he got old and promoted.¡± The matron said as Oscar turned towards her, ¡°But enough of that, dinner is served and the guest of honor is expected at the table.¡± She added before dragging Oscar towards the dining room. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. It was a simple room with large cupboards next to a wall and a large wooden table in the center, covered with a tablecloth and, most importantly food. A large pot of stew was the center point of the dinner with smaller casseroles and bowls of side dishes. The matron plopped Oscar down to the seat of honor and took the right-side seat while the husband joined her. The girls were seated to the left with the opposite seat to Oscar remaining empty. The dinner was informal and the family got to know the young man who would share a roof with them from now. The well likable man grew quickly to the family and the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, albeit it would take time for everyone to acclimatize to the change in their life. After dinner, the family retired to the lounge with Oscar who regaled them with stories of his mainland travels while sitting with the daughters on the sofa, a respectful distance between them. The matron, who finally remembered to introduce herself as Isabel had made herself comfortable in the lap of her husband while she knitted and listened to the conversation, and occasionally joining them. She enjoyed crass humor and snickered at it like an old sailor, now that the atmosphere was less formal. Isabel had been prior to their marriage the sole daughter of the only butcher in the slums and enjoyed the absolute respect and fear of their generation, due to.. Fiery personality before mellowing after marriage and having kids. The cleaver princess still had infamy due to stories told of her acts to this day. Despite the infamy she was well-liked as despite the errors of her fiery youth she had been a charitable soul since young. After taking a schnapps after dinner the husband, the taciturn man Theodore had opened up more and was joking and laughing along while enjoying his pipe in good humor. He was apparently a long-time soldier and before his injury before getting discharged due to injury had been a senior quartermaster in one of the garrisons surrounding the town. His pension was smaller due to not serving his career till retirement and this was the reason the family had decided to seek out a tenant to pad their finances. He did have the wish to return working but his shattered shin made it a difficult prospect. The daughters had inherited the family¡¯s laidback and informal way of life despite knowing their way around formal etiquette due to their education, hence their hesitance in the interaction in the beginning. But reflecting their parents, Elis took after their father with a quieter countenance while Hannah had taken great strides to be like their mother, albeit far more controlled than the mother in her younger days. But in general, both strong-willed and determined. In retrospect, the family was laid back and down to earth. After finally returning to his quarters and closing the door Oscar sighed and slumped his shoulders and let his face relax. He walked over to the small window and looked out of the window, looking at the creeping darkness, held back by the light from the houses and further towards the center, lamps. He looked at the stars, the only source of light in the darkness beyond the artificial lights. He brought out the seashell and once more placed it next to his ear. He welcomed the vertigo it brought with its whispers. Momentarily his eyesight turned completely black before the world inverted and the dark became light. Dark city spanned the white world with small white suns blanketing the sky. Some of them noticed his gaze but his existence was far too insignificant to the great blazing presences in the inverted night sky to hold their notice. Neither was the world of any significance, merely a passing of their piercing gazes. A momentary glance before moving on. In this radiant divinity forsaken darkness, the young man seeked. Equipped with a tongue in a seashell from an artist who had cut it off in his madness, the nautilus seashell echoed its whispering delirium about things not visible. Or perhaps they were always visible but too foreign to notice. Always watching, always there. The glancing looks reminded Oscar of his fathers, cold and callous. He instinctively wished for their attention, their notice of his existence. He seeked their approval. That was his madness. His inferiority fuelled delirium to seek the alien and unknown. To gaze at the abyss and for the abyss to notice and accept him. Chapter Five Like most nights he desperately seeked a gaze to affix upon him, to garner the interest of one of the vast presences in the skies. He pushed his limits with the corrupting whispers who promised understanding, secrets, love. Everything under the sun. But he did not seek something under the sun. He seeked what the whispers never offered, nor dared mention. His nose bled openly as he stubbornly held on. Oscar¡¯s vision swam as his life essence escaped him. Yet his stubborn willpower bared no fruit, no presence bothered to deign him with their focus. Slowly he fell to his knees, the shell clattering as it fell from his hand and clattered away. With a muffled sob, he rested his forehead against the wooden wall underneath the window. His body twitched in impotent exasperation. A hollow despair enveloped him as the void in him grew larger. He slid down from the wall slumping down on the floor with an empty gaze, staring slightly to the side, like a marionette with its strings cut. The uncomfortable positions strain on his body reminded him of his existence. A comfort in his state of distress. The comforting dull agony and the cold floor brought him solace. After a moment of respite, he crawled to his new bed where he shivered from a cold that did not abate despite the warmth the bed brought. He had been hopeful, emboldened with this new beginning, his fa?ade flowing over to his true self. Yet the hope had made the rejection even more painful. Existential crisis weighed on him as he had trouble breathing. Imagination showing him visions he dreaded to think during the day. But during the god-forsaken hours they crashed into him without mercy. He was no longer in control of his mental faculties as they worked against him, stripping him vision by vision of stability. Sleep came many hours later and it was restless. Wretched was the existence of those who have forsaken themselves. Oscar woke to the sound of bells and light. Another day. Once again. He mindlessly rose and began slowly stretching before doing push-ups, followed by sit-ups. His regime of the morning ingrained to him since young. It was of no reason to improve oneself or keep in shape. Just a thing he did. The new place of residence was still foreign to him. It smelled slightly of overripe cherries this morning. Something he did not notice yesterday. He went over to the small window and sat down in the sunlight, letting it wash over him as he meditated in quiet prayer. He did not enjoy being in the light, it did not fit him to stay in the light. It was warm, comforting. Things he felt undeserving. But it was a necessity to recreate his outer shell he showed to others. Warm and comforting like the sun. Without this ritual, he felt his fa?ade hollow. With a smile, he stood up and left his new home and headed down. He found Theodore in the lounge reading a newspaper. ¡°Good morning¡± Oscar greeted him as he entered. He regarded Oscar with a nod and motioned him toward the dining room. Oscar smiled and nodded back and headed on and entered the next room, where Isabel just entered from the kitchen. She smiled at him ¡°Sit down I¡¯ll bring you breakfast.¡± She said as she returned to the kitchen. Moments later Oscar was sitting at the table with a piece of buttered toast and couple of fried eggs with some leftover stew from yesterday next to it. ¡°Had trouble sleeping?¡± The matron asked as she finished bringing the breakfast. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Ah, yes. Probably due to the unfamiliar place.¡± Oscar nodded gingerly. The matron nodded, ¡°We usually break the nightly fast around seven in the morning, ¡° And smirked before adding ¡° Next time you¡¯ll get to search your own breakfast after the noon bells. This is an exception.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about this, you shouldn¡¯t have bothered!¡± Oscar hastily said as he scampered up from the table, ¡°I didn''t think that-¡° ¡°I¡¯ll go-¡° He started before the matron shushed him and sat him down again. ¡°Eat.¡± She said, ¡°It¡¯s fine, I understand this time. Just don¡¯t make it a habit.¡± Oscar awkwardly nodded to Isabel before hesitantly digging in, earning him a snort from the matron who left him and returned to the kitchen while a slight good-natured snicker was heard from the lounge along with flipping of the newspaper. After an awkward breakfast, Oscar crawled towards the kitchen with his dishes held as an offering and armor. He stopped in the doorway and watched Isabel working calmly on pickling some vegetables. She noticed his presence and he winced as she turned to him and smiled awkwardly at her. ¡°Ah.¡± She simply said and grabbed the dishes before Oscar could react and quickly began to wash them. Oscar cleared his throat before starting. ¡°Matron, do you happen to have any tasks for me to do around the house?¡± ¡°No, not at the house, but the gentleman should go to the market to buy some things.¡± She said with a side glance towards Oscar. ¡°Of course, what I should buy for you?¡± He asked, perking up with the chance to amend his mistake. ¡°Oh, spare clothes, household items.¡± She hummed in thought as she finished the few dishes before turning towards Oscar, ¡°For yourself that is.¡± She smiled, ¡°We are good for now and you just moved in. With no luggage as well. We¡¯ll talk about your chores in the evening.¡± Soon Oscar was chased out of the house with directions to the market and a house key in his pocket. With hastened steps he moved erratically into an alley between shacks, onto another street and into another alley, repeating with the sea of dilapidated housing and crowded streets blurring till he came to a dead end. Sweating and wheezing he put one of the corners against his back and slumped down, grasping his head. He had made a mistake. He cursed in league sprahe quietly as he swore at his sleep-addled head for not noticing the time. Slowly swaying back and forth, bumping against the corner in the shady alley he slowly gathered himself, rebuilding his confidence and stature. With an amused hum, Oscar glanced out of the alley onto the street. He slowly rolled tobacco into a cigarette with his still shaking hands and lit up a cigarette and deeply inhaled, letting his mind drift into a hazy calm from the smoke. He leaned against the side of the alley as he watched the pedestrians moving by, looking like he felt. Hollow. A few glanced over to him to whom he gave a friendly smile, eliciting them to move on. He prayed his panicking rush did not etch upon someone¡¯s memory. He closed his eyes and let the noon sun calm him once again. He hummed a nursery rhyme quietly as he felt the anxiety lessen. Slowly he walked out of the alley and joined the traffic, following the direction most went. Towards the city proper. Slowly the destitution turned to houses made of finer materials decreeing stability and permanence, that could be attributed to the lifespan of the populace. Where the shacks were, short-lived hasty constructions easily built and replaced with new the streets now filled with venerable stone and treated wood told a different tale. There was a certain air of planning unfound in the poorer districts. Here the tenants and architects planned beyond their next meal and the following week. Buildings that would span generations if allowed. Oscar¡¯s travel ended at the edge between these two districts of opposites. A minor market square with shops surrounding the stall-filled space in the middle. There had been minor market stall-riddled trading squares on his way among the district he came from, but the focus of the goods had been different. Those focused on necessities and basic goods like bundles of undyed fabric and firewood and coal. Here Oscar could see some almost luxury goods among the stalls. Simple crafted items, clothes, and larger selection of produce, while the shop''s displaced items of quality and variance beyond simple goods. Books, shoes, fine bakeries and spices. A tailor shop and apothecary. And just like there was an abundance of goods so were there people. The square was teeming with them. Oscar ignored the shops and joined the flow of marketgoers as he walked the stalls. It took him a while, but he eventually walked out of the market with a simple grey shirt he found among the stalls and worn boots from a stall that sold used clothing, and lastly, he was now wearing a flat cap. He also bought some candles, soap, and a journal with an ink pen that he bought from a general store. He carried the extras packed in paper as he began his trek back. His wallet felt empty after shopping, he had spent 5 Lindhols and 12 pence for it all and he had greatly saved on buying the used boots. Nevertheless, he had 2 Linhhols and 8 pence remaining from his savings and was in desperate need for work. He had considered buying a second pair of trousers and a vest but felt it be extravagant to be justified and rather bought some necessities instead. He headed forth, traveling back towards his new home in the city. It was an uneventful journey; he merely observed the world around him while he hummed. Despite the doom and gloom the district was alive. Children playing on the muddy streets, laughing and enjoying themselves. Groups of wives gathering and chatting, watching over the little ones. Homecomings and goings. Many of the wearier pedestrians, suffering from the lack of vigor continued with less heavy faces and eyes less hollow as they saw the small sparks in the dark during their travel. Oscar couldn¡¯t help but smile, in earnest, as he passed an energetic bunch of children rushing around with a ball made from rags on the side of the street. It was late afternoon when he arrived home, using his key for the first time. Taking his things upstairs he unpacked them quickly and used his notebook to note down his expenses for today. His handwriting was cursive and detailed, one befitting a scribe. 20 pence for the shirt. 3 Lindhols and 15 pence for the boots, they did not fully fit him, being slightly larger than necessary but a pair of boots fitted for him would cost crowns instead of Lindhols. 10 pence for the cap. 3 pence for candles. 4 pence for a bar of soap 10 pence for the journal and the pen and ink. He had considered just using charcoal as a writing implement but was too used to pen and ink to switch. A total of 5 Lindhols and 12 pence. Below the total he marked his remaining funds, 2 L 8p. Oscar sighed and leaned back. Money disappeared easier than it appeared. He rose, leaving the ink to dry as he took the paper wrappings and string that his purchases had been packed in and neatly gathered them. He stored the string in one of the writing tables'' drawers before folding the paper till he had a sturdy pocket. He took one of the two remaining silver coins from his pouch and slipped it into the folds before placing it in the drawer as well. His legs took him over to the window as he took out his medallion. He opened it and stilled as there was no seashell in it. Chapter Six There is a certain stillness of mind prevalent upon finding something out of place when it has grown ingrained to a person to the point of muscle memory. It leaves us quickly but shatters our routine. Our autonomous parts of our mind conflicts with our conscious mind which is focused on the anomaly it had found. Oscar twirled around looking around the floor of his room. A flush of panic grew as he felt a chill in his gut as if he was falling. He remembered the shell falling yesterday, clattering on the floor, but had not been in a mind to pay it any heed. He hastily closed his medallion and clumsily jumbled it into his pocket as he combed the floor with his eyes. ¡®It couldn¡¯t have gotten far¡¯ he thought to himself as he went to his knees. Oscar crawled around and searched beneath the bed next to the window, but found nothing. Fear became prevalent as he hastily scampered next to the writing table to peer behind it, where a small gap was between the table and the half wall that turned into the sloped roof. In his panic fuelled panic his knee struck the table''s edge. Oscar hissed in pain as pain flickered in his knee and the table slightly inched closer to the wall upon impact. He dragged him forward to the former gap while shaking his leg that numbed over. Oscar dragged the table further away from the wall, revealing dust and a shell he had been looking for. He grasped it and looked it over carefully, fearing the table to have broken it upon drifting closer, but found only some scratches. His upper body slumped against the wall in relief and he let himself slump against the wall, the sea shell tightly in his grasp as his back leaned against the wall in respite. Oscar''s beating heart and mind calmed shortly after. He stayed leaning against the wall for some time, allowing the calm to soothe him as he watched the shadows grow, soon dinner would be served. But for now, he remained idle. He had been anxious these few days, weeks even if he thought back. It had gnawed and tore his mentality for a while now, cumulating in yesterday''s outburst. So, he remained there, in a moment where nothing was wrong. A calm he did not wish to shatter. Finally he decided to bring the shell to his ear to bring an end to his inaction. With closed eyes he listened in, anticipating the whispers. But only silence followed. The shell was inert, for the first time in his possession. He opened his eyes and the now familiar world of white and black did not come. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. His heartbeat grew erratic once again as he took the shell and carefully inspected it for damage he might¡¯ve missed. He was stumped and felt panic rise again, as he tried again to listen. Silence. Oscar remained motionless keeping the shell to his ear, listening carefully but heard nothing, not even the echo of the sea. ¡®It watches¡¯ A whisper escaped from the shell. Barely audible. It sounded lucid for the first time he had heard, shaking Oscar to the core, he jerked violently into attention and stayed completely still, continuing to listen fearful he had misheard. ¡®it is looking¡¯ Goosebumps flared over Oscar¡¯s skin as the raspy wary voice continued. The voice sounded almost reverent, seemingly speaking to itself rather than Oscar. ¡®it sees¡¯ ¡®what have you -¡¯ The voice in the shell died suddenly. A dissolving static screamed from the shell, causing Oscar to drop the shell from the sudden assault on his hearing. The static was audible from afar from where it fell, near the window. His window began to emit a glow in the now dusk-dark room, and he heard a commotion outside. He struggled up, avoiding his numb yet painful leg and limped to the window in an odd blank-like listless state. Outside was brighter than it should be, with people on their windows looking. Up. His eyes rose to meet the sight of gently dancing aurora borealis in the sky. It covered the whole sky in its green hue. Entranced by the suddenness, the shock of the events unfolding, Oscar watched the lights in the sky. They began to slowly swirl, before feeling a presence in the happening. One familiar to him. ¡®it¡¯ the voice from the shell drifted over the static, garbled and distorted. ¡®is¡¯ ¡®Here¡¯ A suffocating smell of overripe cherries washed over the room, impairing Oscar¡¯s nose. He felt its presence. From behind. Heavy and in focus, on him. The indifferent gaze of¡­ Something. Slowly, nervously he began to turn. It felt like a lifetime, all the fears of expectations rushing through his mind. His room had changed. Where he was standing, next to the window was the same as before, but beyond it had expanded slowly from his location. Till his visitor was able to fit where it was. Blankly Oscar looked. A human, no a humanoid, with feminine figure, hovered in his attic room with wings of a dove unfolded. It felt off-putting despite its seeming beauty of ¡®her¡¯ lithe figure and flawless white skin. It felt, unrealistic. Too perfect for being real, in an almost alien way. Like it had created itself, to represent it in a way familiar to him but unable to fully grasp the ideas. It had the figure, the skin, pure white long hair reaching its waist that slowly drifted in the air. But the figure looked artificial, the muscles beneath the alabaster skin without flaws felt like they had no purpose beyond being there in the right places to give it form. No veins marred its body, and it was far too smooth. Its body was covered in a dress of dull white light in physical form which edges acted more like mist than anything physical. It did not seem to truly fulfill any function as it was mostly seen through, leaving nothing up to imagination. More to mayhaps fulfill an afterthought of regarding human modesty as a concept. It had a sex, modest growths of fat in the right places and labium, but despite seemingly flawless, seemed decorative in nature and more to give the entity its desired form. A lithe face following the gold ratio to almost mathematical accuracy carried its drifting white hair, yet this was the place its otherworldliness manifested in truth, it¡¯s face held no mouth, no eyes, nostrils or ears despite all the muscle, bone structure, cartilage and fat being in place giving it a perfect face with only skin covering where the parts of the face were supposed to be. It felt like the entity did not truly understand the function these features were linked to it, as if the being observed the world completely differently than a human and failed to grasp the idea. Oscar stared at the most beautiful entity he had seen in his life as it folded in its wings, shrinking the expansion anomaly in the room in the view of Oscar as it no longer needed the room to be expanded to fit its wings. It descended to the floor gracefully, its feet gently touching the floor. The wood lines around her drew back from her upon contact before forming circles surrounding it. Its slightly lowered face gently rose to regard Oscar. Chapter Seven Oscar felt a sweeping presence over his mind, combing through them, shifting through memories as they flickered quickly through his thoughts without his prompt. A dizzying flicker of mind-numbingly quick thoughts along with memories rushed past his mind before stilling just as fast. He felt like he had run a marathon, barely able to stand and his head felt like chilled gravy, thick and uncomfortable. He couldn¡¯t feel his body at this point and was surprised he still stood despite his state. The presence that had drawn back after its scan, flared for a moment before calming. It caught Oscar¡¯s attention as he directed his focus back to the being in his room. He felt it still in his mind, and it terrified him. He felt so open and bare to this entity who had seemingly gone through his life with¡­ such ease. As it sensed his attention, a memory, slowly, gently surfaced in his conscious mind. It clearly was the work of the being as he felt its guiding touch bring it forth. It almost felt reassuring how gentle it was with him now, like a mother handling her child. It began to show the memories of daily life, of the bustling streets he had walked. Yet they were shifted, grey and dull, colorless with people only being hazy constructs of dim figures of light. Ash covered most of the sky above, obscuring the view. Only the sun hung above with cold light, seemingly made of the same substance as the pedestrians on the street, only differing in the sheer radiance of the sun. Oscar could feel the sun with an aura similar to the visitor, only it felt hollow and without presence. Still, there was something nascent to it, primal and without focus. It bore an unfeeling radiating heat, detached from mortal ken. The visitor itself felt suffocatingly heavy. Old, callous, and expansive that was overwhelmingly lethargic with a touch of entropy. There were hints of something more buried under its aura, obscured by indifference that held dominance on the surface. Slowly the world shifted, something rose from the beyond. A planetoid of scarred grey slowly shifted to obscure the sun, slowly darkening the skies above. It bore the presence of his visitor. In a daze Oscar watched the celestial that eclipsed the sun, radiating its own silvery light down upon the ground. Beasts howled and water rose in great waves upon the shores of the island nation in unnatural fury. Night arrived, yet the celestial held no reservations for it, illuminating the long dark in its silver hues. In the darkness of the night, the true self of the visitor directed its perceptions upon Oscar in full. The immense glow of silver intruded upon his mind and blinded him with its presence crashing upon his mind. He felt his mind give out, slowly shattering from a great being¡¯s attention laid upon him in full. He felt himself wash away, his sense of self vaporizing, slowly drifting into oblivion. There was no scream no whimper or pain, the things governing those were washed away first, even before the overwhelming presence steeled his mind and held it together. Everything in the background washed away as the connection between Oscar and the entity strengthened. Wisdom was given in exchange for the loss of parts of self, mending them in place of holes. A calm understanding came to Oscar''s mind that this connection had broken something in him as the wisdom became part of himself. It was not knowledge or wisdom of the nature and real, but of things beyond the veil of law that is nature¡¯s mandate. Most of it swirled beyond his mortal grasp. A mere glimpse of a glimpse of the metaphysical. A teasing flash of the lore of ancient beings that no longer adhered to the natural order. It withdrew from his mind, leaving Oscar dazed from the sudden lack of stimulation. The presence left him behind from the visions and he soon found himself in the small attic room. He felt alone. The connection, the intimacy of sharing his mind, left him shaking in the room. He only knew the cold he felt now and the warmth of the connection before. His mortal self felt hollow and empty. His gums itched from the desire as the euphoria from the contact drew from him faster and faster. The forbidden knowledge, fragmented and difficult to decipher whispered seductively drawing flames from the absence. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Rationale whispered of guiding hands and laughing gods before delirium swirled from the fevering mind and silenced all else. No longer did the mind note the twitching hands, glazed vision, and sweat that began to flow as time flowed with it. The hateful sun rose, piercing the room and burned his sleep-deprived eyes. He felt the drag of his eyelids but was unable to sleep as he curled tighter on the cold floor in a pool of his caked vomit. The divine was all he could think about. It¡¯s divine self in his mind. He felt himself grow to an erection, shuddering from the simulation. It felt filthy to react as such to such pure intimacy of connected minds. It took him a week of lack of appetite, vomiting what he forced down, and spats of loss of control from where he found himself shaking. Oscar had recovered mostly but the hollow absence remained. He cleaned the strips of cloth in warm water before applying them over his forearms again to cover the scratch marks. Bouts of itch and a lack of sense of pain had marred his arms with deep gashes. There had been no chance of subterfuge of his condition with his bouts of delirium. Today was the day he would be kicked out into the street. The family¡¯s kindness had allowed him to remain till today, but their tolerance had broken with his condition. ¡®Addict¡¯ they had called him upon giving him their verdict. He glanced towards the mirror as he took his meager belongings. The young man in the mirror with dark circles underneath his eyes looked back. Intensive gaze fixed itself on himself. Dull and unwashed curls drooped over the eyes yet were unable to contain the flames flickering in them. The former young man would have been ashamed of the eviction. Now he barely only felt a tinge of doubt before steel-clad resolve crushed it. It would suit him fine, the opportunities of the vagrancy fitting with the path laid before him. He made his way downstairs ignoring the condescending looks of his former hosts. Their worries were so mundane they merely washed over him. The absence gnawed at him. He had tried to contact the being again, but the stars remained inert, and the shell had grown mute. Oscar barely noticed he was walking on the busy streets of Lindholm. His legs moved without guidance further away from his old housing, houses grew in disrepair and the populace more rugged and hostile towards outsiders. He came to deep in the night at some point, no longer wandering in the haze. It seemed like he had merely blinked and then found himself lying in the mud face down. His meager possessions were nowhere to be found. A muddy alley stretched in both directions with waste and garbage all around. It was difficult to rise up, the crunch of bones and the lack of strength told him the unkind reality of his body. He dragged himself to the alley wall and rested his upper body against it. A calm assessment confirmed unnatural protrusion under his shirt and bare feet. He was wheezing with raspy gasps and out of breath. Oscar feebly with a shaking hand lifted the muddy shirt and looked at his protruding ribs. Mostly merely protruding under the skin but one had punctured trough and now that he was upright began to bleed and smear the muddy skin with vermillion. In the corner of his eyes, he saw shadows growing. Abyssal black figures, darker than the shadows themselves flickering in and out of existence. Bored spirits gathered to watch his passing with indifference. Somewhere in the streets, rowdy folks made merry in some alehouse no doubt. The ruckus they caused gliding in the night with no celestial like the entity lighting the dark skies. Oscar laughed despite the difficulty of such an endeavor. He would not survive the night as it is. His hubris and the contact with the otherworldly had made him callous to the fact he was mortal. No pain warned him of injury since that night and a cold indifference beyond the hysterical desire to reconnect had made him disregard his safety and surroundings. The implanted knowledge, always a haze of unfamiliar languages and ineligible swirls danced in his slowly dying mind. Sometimes less obscure before escaping into obscurity once more as they danced back and forth in his hazy consciousness to mock him for wasting their potential. ¡®Look¡¯ They seemed to tell him as they showed glimpses of themselves and what they contained before quickly growing hazy and elusive again as the realization of their meaning washed away from his mortal mind. Defeated by the apparitions of insight he gave up. He let his mind drift freely in swirls of chaos, without any will of his own. His will had been what he had cultivated to move past the withdrawals. He could at his deathbed acknowledge he had been affected poorly by his encounter with a mind so much greater than himself. Addicted was a truly apt word for it, Oscar mused. Even now his uncontrolled mind moved with thoughts of his experience. Plots of plans on how to feel it again. The desperate need for more. Of the thoughts what he was willing to do for it frightened the feeble part of himself still sane from the madness. There was no fight of will and addiction, the mere acknowledgment of the latter from the former before it gave up. Delirious eyes blazed with passion as a smirk rose to Oscar''s lips as his mind grew clear and he felt whole. Adrenaline coursed in his veins as fragments reformed and became whole. A Raspy, stuttering, wet whistle echoed out from the alley in a jolly melody. An unflinching hand reached towards the bleeding wound and dyed the fingers red. The other hand pushed him off from leaning on the wall as he faced the rotten wood of the alley wall. He began his work as he drew a figure of a man on the wall with his blood. It was a shoddy smear to call a proper drawing but the artist cared little, transfixed in his work, his everything focused on this one work. Oscar focused on the eyes of the figure, spending minutes upon minutes and a generous amount of blood on the small detail. He felt his life slowly drain from him as he stilled upon completion and looked at the curly-haired figure he had drawn, looking deeply into the lifelike eyes. Serene, curious eyes looked into his. Oscar drew back in a stagger as he watched the eyes acknowledge him with forlorn acceptance. The figure on the wall closed his eyes as its torso shifted, disturbingly realistic wounds appearing upon it. Broken ribs protruded from the figure with a single rib seemingly had opened a wound and crisscrossing splatters of red marred his hands. The drawing opened its eyes again as the two looked at each other. Slowly the lifelike eyes of the drawing stilled and glazed over and the red paint of it''s being dulled. Oscar inhaled greedily before exhaling. He nodded at the other self before turning away from it and walking calmly out of the alley, leaving the dead vestige of his former self to dry on the wooden alley wall.