Burning Broken Chains: Rising Ashes

By J. P. Garland All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Adventure

Chapter 6: Flashback

I was serving the Karsar twins regularly in the new hour; they’re a needy bunch. This time they demanded me to retrieve them some red wine. So I went to get wine from the cellar.

The cellar is a dark dungeon-like basement that if I had the choice to go down, I would never take the offer.

I pick the preferred bottle, a clear bottle with a bright red liquid inside. Pryias aren’t allowed to drink alcohol until 18 years. Nobles can whenever their parents decide it’s okay.

I make my way back up the wooden basement stairs, which creak with every step I make up them. The dungeon isn’t paid attention to as much as the ground level and higher stories of the Panatell residency. This desperate need of beauty is mostly because of public appearance priorities since the Panatells are the second most wealthiest House in Rigtal.

Once back in the real world of lavish attire and beautiful displays, I make my way to the Karsar twins.

I pass through the enormous glamorous hall that’s hosting the spectacular event for the nobles. The large crystal chandeliers that are situated every third of the ceiling, sparkle in the bright light of the lit candles, it’s possibly the most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. There are probably fifty different tables here, all for each visiting noble House.

The hall is yelling with excitement, conversations, glasses tinging, knives and forks scraping on the crockery plates and bowls. The smells of nearly every delicious meal thought up fills your lungs as soon as you enter. I want to stand here for a moment and inhale it all in.

That’s when I remember I’ve got to take this wine to the Karsar twins.

On the trip back I pull the cork out, carefully as to not let it blow off and hit something or someone.

I approach the twins, while they’re chatting with each other at their table and eating their meal.

Just as I make my final step to stop in front of the twin’s table, I stub my toe. I lose my footing and feel myself falling.

I quickly react and regain my footing to stand back up straight.

Unfortunately, not quick enough as the wine bottle I was holding spills all over the twins, their food and the whole table. The red liquid drenches the entire table sheeting.

The two stare at me with such anger in their eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” screams the sister.

“You absolute fucking imbecile,” rages the brother.

Oh no, they’re angry with me, they’re going to call for my execution.

“This service is absolutely disgusting, Mathyew, where are you?” the sister yells out.

Oh no, now they want Mathyew, the eldest son of Panatell, to get involved, they really are going to call for my execution. Mattyew and I have a complicated Pryia-noble interactive relationship, but I don’t think that’s going to save me in front of all these people.

Then I hear from behind me “cousins why quibble with the maid over easy fixes? Look, take my table, my siblings have wanted to catch up with you anyway.”

I stand there like a stone statue, no movement, I swear my heart has skipped a few necessary beats.

The Karsar twins look at me and the male behind me.

“Urgh, fine then Aaron, whatever you say,” unwillingly says the brother twin.

The sister stares at me with killer eyes through her blonde fringe, as if to tell me to watch my back.

The two get up and walk past me, presumably to the suggested table.

I stand there still, not making a move, worried that doing so will agitate the twins.

“Alright, we oughta clean this up, aye,” says the masculine voice behind me.

I don’t even look; I just get started cleaning the mess I’ve created.

The young man walks around me to stand on the other side of the wine dripping table.

I see in the corner of my eye; he raises his right arm in parallel with my face.

I look up to accurately see what’s he’s trying to do. In his right hand, he’s holding a small red handkerchief.

“Kiritoss, continue with your night, please. This is my mess to clean up.”

He replies “yes it is a mess and yes it needs cleaning, but no it’s not your mess.”

I stare at him with a confused face.

He lets out a huff of air and says “right well...I guess you didn’t notice then. Ahhh my delightfully dear cousin, Helix, appeared to have “accidentally” tripped you with his foot.”

Wait that was all a big trick, those fucking arseholes! No stay composed. Wait, why is he telling me this? What does it matter to him?

“Regardless of fault, I am still supposed to clean up the mess. And while I appreciate the gesture, the handkerchief won’t do much to clean this mess.”

I look back down to keep cleaning, expecting the young noble to walk away.

“I agree, it would be useless in comparison to what is needed, you may, in fact, need some rags...or better yet a few towels. But I was aiming for somewhere less drowned.”

I stare up at him again, to this time catch in my sights his hand push itself further toward me.

He wipes my left cheek with the handkerchief. I feel what was slightly moist in the spilling of wine be wiped up and dried.

The man smiles and says as he grabs my right hand with his left, “here take this as a gift, a gift from Aron de Eramont.”

He places the handkerchief in my hand and rolls my fingers into a slightly clenched fist.

It was for another half an hour, Kiritoss de Eramont assisted me in cleaning the mess up.

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