Page Ten

Nelet sighs heavily after being left with VerNous, who stirs behind him with his hand planted on his hip, ready for Nelet to give him an order. The boy’s hiss-like breathing is so vivid that one would think he was breathing straight down the back of the flustered servant; every inhale a sound reminder that the Vernos lurks behind him and that he must assert some command over him no matter how risky this task may be. He slumps his shoulders, drops his chin to his collarbone, and wags his head. This three-step process prepares him to finally erect his posture and turn to VerNous with a feigned, unconvincing smile.

“You heard the master,” he says friendly enough,  “Come along, let’s get you settled before he finishes.”  Without any further gesturing, he exits the room assuming VerNous will follow, which to his relief the boy trails behind Nelet at a reasonable distance. Nelet sighs to relieve more discomfort out his chest, happy he wouldn’t have to use any persuasive tactics to lure the boy out; instead he follows as if he inherently trusts the passive servant. They leave VerNous’ room behind and travel to the top of a grand stairwell- one VerNous hadn’t seen at first- yet it must have materialize while they conferred; or the house had shifted while they tarried in the one stationary room.  Once again, the boy is bombarded by an interior decorative scheme lacking cohesion and restraint, suggesting that some eccentric lord reigns here. The most notable feature repeating itself is the proliferation of uncoordinated, decorative, expensive-looking knickknacks packed on every available surface, wall shelf, niche, and even the floor had some fancy trinkets to trip on. The walls are not spared as paintings suffocate them, yet they carry a more harmonious theme- depicting epic wildernesses at night, nighttime streets after a downpour, or cosmic chaos within the nightmarish regions of the inter-realm universe. The corridor’s exit is open; its doors are anchored to the walls allowing the frigid elements to walk right in. The subsequent breezeway is all polished stone with gaping portico openings that guide the wind through the overhang. The breezeway extends and curves into another chunk of the palace- this ameboid-shaped building covered with domed windows dotting the surface like boils on a body. The window’s amber light-dance is fully unveiled as they enter the structure, its wall’s curvature resembling a slouched kidney with a stairwell stitched to the organ’s inner wall. Resting on the shard tiling is an ample teardrop shaped dining table, accompanied by a string of teardrop looking chairs.

 VerNous takes a couple of dainty steps on the tiled floor of the lavish dining hall, when suddenly without cue, VerNous’ gown ripples on his skin and to his amazement, transforms into an elegant version of his former attire. He spins around in the refreshed garment as he tries to view it from all angles. He clasps the gown’s thick train as it weighs him down, and then looks back up and all around the room to find the trigger for the seemingly needless transformation. Nelet’s beckoning frees him from his query,

“Out here. Come now.” Nelet had already proceeded out the dining hall past a lengthy curtain, and stands near a table with chairs arranged bistro style. He then pulls out a heavy chair, scraping the feet of the chair on the masonry, and instinctually VerNous seats himself.

“It won’t be very long.”  He says before disappearing behind the curtain, his footsteps becoming more faint until they cease all together. Observing that he is finally alone, VerNous darts out the chair and to the banister, assessing the expansive garden full of foliage that lack blooms and vivid colors.  His main focus is on the trajectory between his location and the garden’s barricade; he wants a clean and swift exit over the gate and assesses if there’s any obstacles camouflaged in the landscape. The ambitious boy checks behind him to make sure he’s completely alone; a long, motionless few seconds makes him confident in his chances. Gathering every available pint of his might, he propels his body skyward in a split-second blur. But before he even soars past the treetops, a feverish lethargy brews in his temples that soon claim the rest of his body, debilitating his ability to thrust his body any further. He falls ten feet to the ground landing hard on his back. One hand clutches his chest and the other his back, winded from exerting so much force into an impenetrable wall created by his own feebleness. After taking a good hold of the cold, stone railing, he pulls himself back up, panting deeply as he rest his stomach over his hands. “I can’t, I just can’t. Shit!” he wails. Mere seconds past as he tries to collect himself and slow his wheezing, but soon he hears the sudden undulation of brocade curtains, which causes him to turn fast and stand alert to the figure passing through. Niseka appears in a simple, though immaculate robe. But immediately, the master issar notices a minor irregularity in VerNous’ posture- his face seems worn and frazzled; his body ungraceful and slouched in front of the banister. Yet, Niseka shoves his observations aside, not wanting to cause a scene or initiate any hostilities. Instead Niseka would rather smile and stroll to the balcony, turning his full attention to his garden, delighting in a stunning panoramic view of his deathly yard speckled with knotted brambles and vine-netted pathways.

       

  

“Admiring the garden? It is breathtaking, isn’t it? It’s miraculous how the patches of gamavans drain the life straight from the ground like a sanguine-deprived leech - turning the soil dusty and dry- but they themselves remain brittle and snap like straw. There also appears to be an elderly fog in today, hovering over those emaciated, bud-less tangles; off it goes with their souls out the grated gates without any remorse. All these phenomena’s carry this concerted, deathly allurement that stupefies the spirit like a pungent opiate, so bitter and poison it lingers in the mind long after consumption.” With a warm smile on his face, Niseka turns to VerNous, who in return stares at him as if he’d lost his mind, as the master issar expresses his disturbing sensitivity to dead grass. Niseka laughs as he continues, “Your eyes don’t lie. I guess I have this bad habit of overflowing with my unsolicited, romantic blather from time to time. But perhaps- Ah! You simply don’t understand. Do you know how long it has been since I felt this level of gladness linger in my heart? Ages! Decades since I’ve been able to associate such levity with unforeseen, delightful actualities.” VerNous doesn’t feel inclined to remark on anything, he’s too busy trying to gauge the issar’s intentions; eyes glued to even the littlest movement of his body.  “Oh VerNous. You still feel that I am a stranger to you. You act as though you do. I rather you look upon me with that same joyous expression you had as you turned to me back in your chamber, for the potential for a smile is indented in those wilted cheeks and frozen in the rigid corners of your mouth. But, what’s the benefit of rushing you- I suppose you’ll come to trust me in your own time and manner. I certainly hope your adjustment materializes soon. I’m anxious to show you my kingdom, for up until this point you’ve only heard it described through secondhand rumors. ‘Shithole’? I’m assuming that stems from some bogus attribution. On the contrary, you will find that my entire kingdom has an assortment of dangerous landmarks any boy would love to explore- and I desire to give you free reign of this treacherous realm. How do these places sound: The Alkaline Rapids, Detaent Oozing Abyss, the Vantis Lair, Oh and best of all the-”

       “-Wait, wait, wait! Woah. Hold on!” VerNous gesticulates with his hands held flat, “Where in your wacked-out, posy smelling head do you think that I want to go ‘exploring’ with you? Not unless you can show me the infinite mysterious path of mystical wonder that leads out this manure pit- I assure you, I could care less! Such a dreary land; makes me want to aid my own lethal departure from its cold grip.” VerNous interjects as he turns around to hide his sulking face, planting his chin in his palm’s depression. Niseka can sense his aggravation conveyed through his slumped posture, and doesn’t blame him for the resentment still ripe in his heart. But that doesn’t stop him from enjoying the banter born from the boy’s quick wit, matching each and every one of VerNous’ colorful, offensive retorts. Niseka hides the sounds of his footsteps as he approaches,

       “Come now. Don’t be so pessimistic, VerNous. Trust me, you’ll change your tune once you’ve acclimated yourself to your new surroundings. Maybe you’ll even learn to call my kingdom home?” Niseka descends over the boy’s shoulders and tenderly glides his hands up his sleeves to squeeze his deltoids, “-Or at least try to for the sake of your recuperation.” He pauses. “Do you remember Holunous?” VerNous yanks his face further away from Niseka’s breath that strikes his hairline. Meanwhile, the name Holunous triggers a vague memory that flickers in his subconscious, but he has no luck in pin pointing its significance. “Dentenstagem is a striking contrast to that squalid pebble you once survived out of. I remember that chunk of land- a crusty wad of gray rubble, drafty like a unsealed cabin, reeking of rotten, soiled human remnants strewn throughout it cupboards. And to top it off: no architectural refinement, no décor, no scenic overlooks, and no black shrubbery to frame the pathways- nothing to make it feel like home! An issar deserves more than some hairy old, worm-infected skull to pick off of.” Niseka notices VerNous is quiet, perhaps sweeping his mind for a recall. While the boy rummages his thoughts, Niseka makes a daring move to glide a long mass of VerNous’ hair behind his ear and over his shoulder. “They forced you there, didn’t they- thinking you some accursed aberration that needed to be discarded in the outlands. Such dishonorable behavior from fellow issars is unacceptable.” Something stirs in VerNous as he tries to remember, but Niseka’s close, overbearing presence thwarts any successful recall. Instead VerNous finds Niseka’s remarks pitiful and he retorts,

       “You elderly issars! All you care about are your lofty palaces. So corrupted by your frivolous possessions. And! Get your hands off me!” he shouts as he folds his arms and tries to jerk one of his shoulders free, but Niseka keeps his gentle hold as he says calmly,

       “Boy, aren’t we terribly pissy after we haven’t eaten for over two hundred years. I have a feeling a good meal will set you right and make you less cranky. Be patient, our meal comes soon, if ofcourse Nelet hasn’t goofed.” VerNous rolls his eyes at his poor attempt to figure him out. Finally, he jerks his shoulder free,

       “No! Do you really want to know what makes me so fucking irritable!” Suddenly he turns and grabs Niseka by his collar and pulls him down to ground below his eye level. Niseka is surprised by the amount of strength he must have hidden somewhere in his miniature muscles, for he is pulled so forcefully that he initially lands painfully on his kneecaps before scooting his legs back under him.  Yet, he decides to let the boy’s aggression continue, excited to see glimpses of VerNous’ raw nature. VerNous continues in a gruff voice, “What really turns my stomach is haggard issars like you who think they can push us young issars around. Petty issar, with your petty thinking! You may think yourself superior to me, but you should know better. With every sap-drenched word that spills out of your mouth, you only show yourself to be increasingly mad and delusional. But let me spell something out for you so clearly that you can’t misconstrue it. Let me do you a favor and break the spell you’ve fallen under; this lie you trust so well. I’m not your child. I’m not your doll. I’m not your patient. And I am damn well not your pet! Since you are keeping me here against my will that makes me one thing to you and one thing only: a prisoner. And no prisoner wants to remain in captivity forever, now does he Nisecca?” VerNous curls his fingers tighter until they pierce deep into his collar, scratching the underside of his chin. Meanwhile, his other hand sneaks up and delicately smears away a bead of VerNous’ stray spit that had accidently splattered above his mouth. As he asserts his grounds, his once harsh voice becomes light and sultry, “One day, I will escape you, and I shall leave you. And this day, today, will be a distant memory to me. And you will be as a phantom in my faintest of dreams. These are just some helpful words of warning I hope haunt the hell out of you whenever you sink back into that erroneous happiness that eats away at your sanity-or what’s left of it.” Niseka is knocked breathless by his words, enduring the most intense throbbing building up in his throat. He searches VerNous’ red eyes to uncover the fuel behind that intense, though thorough proclamation. The boy doesn’t quiver or release his downward gaze, but the guardian issar finds that he is smiling as he succumbs to VerNous’ assumed superiority.

       “Radiant VerNous!” he finally manages to utter after the throbbing subsides,  “You have sufficiently made yourself clear. I couldn’t ask for a more heart wrenching, intelligible expression of your stone-cold, beautifully enunciated, irreprehensible declaration!” VerNous sighs; annoyed by another one of his flowery articulations and pushes Niseka away by his neck. Niseka fixes his collar and stands back up, still a bit taken aback by the young issar’s manhandling. Meanwhile, Nelet had witnessed the tail end of their confrontation and stands waiting with a tray of simple foods. Niseka beckons him to come hither as he takes a seat- dumping his original plan to pull out VerNous’ chair. Instead he does a quick hand gesture for him to sit down. VerNous struts to the table with a smirk on his face, grabs some food and the heavy chair and proceeds to drags it to the edge of the balcony. He makes sure it screeches on the stone as loud and long as he can, leaving an unappealing scratch down the veranda and a ringing in their ears. He throws the chair down facing the opposite direction and begins his meal facing the garden. VerNous’ impish action amuses Niseka and he quietly enjoys his meal alone at the table.