"Alone... Alone was how I always remembered my childhood, it was painstakingly true when time came to celebrate another birthday."
In the manor of the Belchior estate, the main dining hall is flooded with light. On this end of the house Master Ezekiel had made sure that the great hall was crafted from the finest glass smiths and metal workers. Leafs of gold were etched into the iron framing. The glass crafted in such a way as to give the room a feeling of being submersed in water. A boy with hair that shimmered like the finest silks and with a color as rich as golden wheat. Is very alone on the far end of the room, sitting at the head of the table. He is playing with his breakfast of fuba cake and misto quente. He unenthusiastically stirs his coffee. For today is April 11th, the young man's birthday. He was upset because yet again his family made no effort to celebrate his day. There would be no cake, no guests.
Though unlike previous birthdays there had come a single present, sitting in the center of the long table, wrapped in simple brown paper tied together in twine. It has been in the house since the morning before. But the boy doesn't seem too eager to open it. But it sits there. As if it were watching him. He has not had the typical family setting like other children. He knew this to the deepest depths of his bones. Even at his young age he held much resentment towards his family. His vision is suddenly drawn over towards the old grandfather clock as it sounds, signifying half past the seventh hour.
"I wonder if father's coming home so I can open it in front of him." thought the boy to himself. He looks down towards the carpet as his grip around his spoon tightens. Outside the room two of housemaids watch the young master through the keyhole.
"Do you ever wonder why he always waits like that?" said the first maid.
"No, not really. The young master has always been that way. Such a quiet soul, he knows Master Belchior will not be returning until the matter of the current dig has been resolved."
"Why can't at the least his mother be here for him?"
"You know that she's spending the holiday with Mistress Adriana, whom you know will be married soon enough."
"Really though. The Master should take sabbatical more then he does. You would think they do not even care about the young master."
"I am sure they do Claudia. But the Master's been working very hard and the young master is that age where he can begin taking care of himself!"
"Oh? You think so ladies." said another as the two maids spooked, turn about face to see the judging eyes of the manors prodigal son. He leans forward and wraps his arms around the two maids shoulders. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves. What the boy really needs is a sabbatical from this family." as he brushes the younger maids cheek. He nibbles on her neck as shudders run down her spine.
"Master Pierce!" begins the other maid as he begins to fondle her posterior with his free hand.
"Oh shush. You know you enjoy our little rendezvous,” the tall dark blonde man says, he slides by the maids and throws the doors open. "Do come round my bedroom after noon and we'll think of a way to celebrate my return to the house." and just as swiftly as he arrived he closes the doors. Tryst is startled with this gesture and looks horror struck.
"Oh baby brother... Where is father?" said Pierce Belchior.
"You know damn right where he is!" said Tryst.
"Ah, that's right in the dirt somewhere. I couldn't forget even if I wanted." Pierce laughs at his own joke. "But in all seriousness Tryst hasn't he come home?" He briskly walks down to the far end of the room where Tryst sits, and sits himself right next to him on the table.
"No, but I'm sure he wanted to be here." said Tryst
"Oh, we both know that's a lie little brother." said Pierce. This causes his brother to begin to grimace. "Alright, sorry Tryst, Dad's not coming home. By the goddess, you've really grown since I saw you last. What are you eight this year?" Tryst nods his head. Then adjust his large glasses.
"Oh, are you going to eat that?" said Pierce pointing at the fuba. Tryst shakes his head as Pierce leans over him and takes his coffee cup and slice of cake. He sips the coffee and makes a disgusted face. "Yuck, to much sugar. What is wrong with you!" said Pierce as he swallows the remainder of the cup of coffee before pouring himself a second one. Only this time adding just an equal mixture of boiled milk to the coffee. He tests the second cup and lets out a sigh of relief.
"Ah, nothing is like Cookie's fuba! Or this coffee, oh, this is so delicious!"
