Post by Mizagium on Dec 16, 2009 16:00:23 GMT -5
From the way the man stepped out of the carriage, Terry guessed he was important. Or, at least, he believed he was important. A man in a suit was just that: a man in a suit. Nothing special or fancy or anyone special. Terry found a sort of ironic humor in watching him hurry to the front door of the orphanage in the rain. Let’s hope his suit didn’t get too wet.
Knock, knock.
Terry refused to stir from his spot: slumped against the wall opposite at the door, with a perfect view of both windows and the outside. He didn’t get out as much as he used to. Living in the orphanage had beaten him down. All he had to look forward to at this point was turning eighteen and being able to leave this place. Only three months.
Headmaster Stern gave him a sharp looks he answered the door, a look that said ‘You could be useful and let this gentleman in’. Terry smirked and raised one finger. The sound of rain filled the empty hall, echoing to the point of sounding like a torrent. Terry was suddenly aware of the fact that he was alone out here – was. These days he tended to piss a lot of the other orphans off, so they avoided him. Just as well, he avoided them.
“Come inside now, there you go.” Headmaster Stern ushered the important man in the suit inside and shut the door, shutting out the sound of the torrent with it. “You must be soaked. Here, let me take you hat and coat…”
“No, no, that’s quite alright,” the man replied. To Terry, it sounded as though the man thought Headmaster Stern had no business touching his suit. From the way Stern seemed taken aback, he thought the same. Terry snickered. “I won’t be here for very long; this is important business.”
“Terry, leave us.” Headmaster Stern’s orders were usually headed with not enough speed. Usually. Today, Terry felt…defiant. Not that he never felt defiant, in fact he regularly spurred the rules and insulted the old man.
“Stick it in your ear.”
“What?” Headmaster Stern was horrified. “Why I never – “
“Surprising. I’d have thought a pompous prick like you’d have been told off long ago.”
Headmaster Stern fumbled for his words. At this point, he would usually proceed to beatings. Perhaps the fancy man in the fancy, wet suit was making him mind his manners. Normally, Terry would have been grateful, but today he was looking for an excuse to hit the old fool across the jaw.
“I’m very sorry, sir. He isn’t usually like this.”
“The hell I’m not.” Terry shifted to a position better suited to spring into either a run, or a charging tackle.
“No, it’s quite alright,” the fancy-suit man assured the headmaster. Impatiently, he continued. “I’m here about one of your…tenants.”
Terry lifted one eyebrow. This man went to undue trouble to avoid the word “orphan”. Most people wouldn’t have.
“Tenants…?” Terry almost laughed out loud. Headmaster Stern didn’t even think of the orphans as people, let alone tenants. A sound must have escaped his lips, for Stern and the suit man both looked his way. Terry lowered his eyebrow and focused his hazel eyes on the suit man’s.
“Yes, a one…Terry Bradston.”
“Why, that’s – “
“Me.” Terry stood up carefully. “What do you want with me?”
“Lord Tutlon has recently passed away and wishes to you attend his funeral.”
Now Terry was suspicious. “How’d he say that, if he’s dead?”
“He left a will.” The suit man produced a scroll and handed it to Terry. It droned on and on about his things, but a single line was highlighted. “If at all possible, Terry Bradston is to be present at my funeral.” Terry looked up. “What does this mean?”
“It means you’ll be able to leave this…orphanage, for one.” Headmaster Stern looked appalled that one should speak of his orphanage so. “But, you’ll have to wear a suit.”
Terry grimace.
-
The funeral was rather large, considering Lord Tutlon was, well, a Lord of Essition. Terry doubted if he would have noticed whether or not he actually attended the funeral. On second thought, he probably would have known; spirits have a way of knowing what goes on at their funerals. And Terry was in his will.
The procession past the open casket was actually something Terry looked forward to. He never knew Lord Tutlon, only heard rumors of his eccentricities. They said he was an inventor, so Terry pictured him with frizzy white hair, and thick glasses, and maybe a tooth missing. To his surprise, Lord Tutlon seemed fairly normal, besides dead. He didn’t linger; there were plenty others who knew him better waiting to pay respects.
The burial was the worst part because of the rain. Mush to his annoyance, Terry found himself fussing over the condition his suit was in. He quit thinking things like that when he glanced around at all the mourners. The man was famous, and, seeing as how many were actually weeping, very well liked. He could only hope there were a fraction of this many at his own funeral.
Terry kept to himself thorough the dinner service. Others talked and traded stories around him. At first, it seemed wrong to him to have a feast after a man was buried, but after he listened for a bit, he realized that the dinner was all about the dead man, too. All the stories were about crazy things Lord Tutlon had done, or what he had invented. He found himself laughing at a few of them, though he remained silent. No one questioned who he was.
After everyone had left, the man in the suit approached Terry. “So? How was it?”
Terry thought about it. “Sad, at first. But it was a great way to get to know someone.”
“Interesting take on it.”
“Interesting man.”
“Very true. Come with me.” The office he led Terry to was simple, boasting an oak desk and padded chairs. Luxurious by orphanage standards. “The request that you attend his funeral was not the only mention of you in Lord Tutlon’s will.”
“Of course not,” Terry smirked.
“He also left you this letter.”
“What’s it say?”
“I don’t know. I was not permitted to read it. See? The wax seal is still intact.”
And so it was. Terry held the letter in his lap, staring at it. Why was he so nervous to open it? Just lift the seal. For someone who talked tough at the orphange…nah. That was all bluster. A sham. None of the other kids would dare oppose Headmaster Stern, so Terry took it on himself to do that. They hated him, the other kids. He always ended up making things worse for them by arguing or talking back. He pretended he didn’t care, but that was all crap. Only problem was, he didn’t know how to stop.
“Well?” The man in the suit tapped his finger on the desk.
“Well what?”
“Are you going to open it?”
“Yeah.” Tentatively, Terry lifted the seal on the letter with his nail.
Dear Terry,
I don’t suppose you know who I am, what with you receiving this letter and all. First and foremost, I shall tell you that my entire fortune is yours. But there is a catch. You must travel east, to the city of Joytengal. There you will find another letter. Follow its instructions.
Best of luck,
Lord Tutlon
P.S. If you happen across the Clock With Wings, bring it down to earth, and rewind it. Apologize to everyone for me; I have made some mistakes.
“Well?” the man in the suit asked again.
“He… left me his money.” Terry continued to stare at the paper.
“All of it?”
“All of it.” It was like a dream.
“And?”
“And…I have to go to Joytengal.”
“What for?”
“He said…” Terry noticed something below the P.S. Smudged ink? No, a watermark. Terry titled the letter, trying to get the light just right. When he finally saw it, it read: DO NOT TRUST THE MAN IN THE SUIT. “I mean, I want to got o Joytengal. To get away from the orphanage.”
“…Is that…so?” The man in the suit spoke carefully.
“Yes.” Terry looked him straight in the eye, determined not to let himself be intimidated. It was difficult.
Finally, “If that is all, then you may go.” He extended a hand.
“Thank you.” Terry took it slowly and shook it.
Terry waited until the office door closed behind him, and then he ran as fast as he could out of the funeral home.
-
The man in the suit lingered behind the desk, his fingers in a contemplative pyramid. He knew what was on that letter; he’d read it. Why hadn’t the boy told him everything? There was no reason for Terry not to trust him. Unless… Damn that son of a bitch Lord! He must have slipped a message in there somewhere that was normally invisible. No matter. Terry was a boy; he would make mistakes.
“And I will follow him to Joytengal. And I will be flawless.”
-
Carter opened his eyes. He was in the center of Granstburg, his home city, yet, he had no idea of what lay beyond the wall of the orphanage. This was a new world for him to explore, and even though he had a destination, the prospect was daunting. And a little scary.
Knock, knock.
Terry refused to stir from his spot: slumped against the wall opposite at the door, with a perfect view of both windows and the outside. He didn’t get out as much as he used to. Living in the orphanage had beaten him down. All he had to look forward to at this point was turning eighteen and being able to leave this place. Only three months.
Headmaster Stern gave him a sharp looks he answered the door, a look that said ‘You could be useful and let this gentleman in’. Terry smirked and raised one finger. The sound of rain filled the empty hall, echoing to the point of sounding like a torrent. Terry was suddenly aware of the fact that he was alone out here – was. These days he tended to piss a lot of the other orphans off, so they avoided him. Just as well, he avoided them.
“Come inside now, there you go.” Headmaster Stern ushered the important man in the suit inside and shut the door, shutting out the sound of the torrent with it. “You must be soaked. Here, let me take you hat and coat…”
“No, no, that’s quite alright,” the man replied. To Terry, it sounded as though the man thought Headmaster Stern had no business touching his suit. From the way Stern seemed taken aback, he thought the same. Terry snickered. “I won’t be here for very long; this is important business.”
“Terry, leave us.” Headmaster Stern’s orders were usually headed with not enough speed. Usually. Today, Terry felt…defiant. Not that he never felt defiant, in fact he regularly spurred the rules and insulted the old man.
“Stick it in your ear.”
“What?” Headmaster Stern was horrified. “Why I never – “
“Surprising. I’d have thought a pompous prick like you’d have been told off long ago.”
Headmaster Stern fumbled for his words. At this point, he would usually proceed to beatings. Perhaps the fancy man in the fancy, wet suit was making him mind his manners. Normally, Terry would have been grateful, but today he was looking for an excuse to hit the old fool across the jaw.
“I’m very sorry, sir. He isn’t usually like this.”
“The hell I’m not.” Terry shifted to a position better suited to spring into either a run, or a charging tackle.
“No, it’s quite alright,” the fancy-suit man assured the headmaster. Impatiently, he continued. “I’m here about one of your…tenants.”
Terry lifted one eyebrow. This man went to undue trouble to avoid the word “orphan”. Most people wouldn’t have.
“Tenants…?” Terry almost laughed out loud. Headmaster Stern didn’t even think of the orphans as people, let alone tenants. A sound must have escaped his lips, for Stern and the suit man both looked his way. Terry lowered his eyebrow and focused his hazel eyes on the suit man’s.
“Yes, a one…Terry Bradston.”
“Why, that’s – “
“Me.” Terry stood up carefully. “What do you want with me?”
“Lord Tutlon has recently passed away and wishes to you attend his funeral.”
Now Terry was suspicious. “How’d he say that, if he’s dead?”
“He left a will.” The suit man produced a scroll and handed it to Terry. It droned on and on about his things, but a single line was highlighted. “If at all possible, Terry Bradston is to be present at my funeral.” Terry looked up. “What does this mean?”
“It means you’ll be able to leave this…orphanage, for one.” Headmaster Stern looked appalled that one should speak of his orphanage so. “But, you’ll have to wear a suit.”
Terry grimace.
-
The funeral was rather large, considering Lord Tutlon was, well, a Lord of Essition. Terry doubted if he would have noticed whether or not he actually attended the funeral. On second thought, he probably would have known; spirits have a way of knowing what goes on at their funerals. And Terry was in his will.
The procession past the open casket was actually something Terry looked forward to. He never knew Lord Tutlon, only heard rumors of his eccentricities. They said he was an inventor, so Terry pictured him with frizzy white hair, and thick glasses, and maybe a tooth missing. To his surprise, Lord Tutlon seemed fairly normal, besides dead. He didn’t linger; there were plenty others who knew him better waiting to pay respects.
The burial was the worst part because of the rain. Mush to his annoyance, Terry found himself fussing over the condition his suit was in. He quit thinking things like that when he glanced around at all the mourners. The man was famous, and, seeing as how many were actually weeping, very well liked. He could only hope there were a fraction of this many at his own funeral.
Terry kept to himself thorough the dinner service. Others talked and traded stories around him. At first, it seemed wrong to him to have a feast after a man was buried, but after he listened for a bit, he realized that the dinner was all about the dead man, too. All the stories were about crazy things Lord Tutlon had done, or what he had invented. He found himself laughing at a few of them, though he remained silent. No one questioned who he was.
After everyone had left, the man in the suit approached Terry. “So? How was it?”
Terry thought about it. “Sad, at first. But it was a great way to get to know someone.”
“Interesting take on it.”
“Interesting man.”
“Very true. Come with me.” The office he led Terry to was simple, boasting an oak desk and padded chairs. Luxurious by orphanage standards. “The request that you attend his funeral was not the only mention of you in Lord Tutlon’s will.”
“Of course not,” Terry smirked.
“He also left you this letter.”
“What’s it say?”
“I don’t know. I was not permitted to read it. See? The wax seal is still intact.”
And so it was. Terry held the letter in his lap, staring at it. Why was he so nervous to open it? Just lift the seal. For someone who talked tough at the orphange…nah. That was all bluster. A sham. None of the other kids would dare oppose Headmaster Stern, so Terry took it on himself to do that. They hated him, the other kids. He always ended up making things worse for them by arguing or talking back. He pretended he didn’t care, but that was all crap. Only problem was, he didn’t know how to stop.
“Well?” The man in the suit tapped his finger on the desk.
“Well what?”
“Are you going to open it?”
“Yeah.” Tentatively, Terry lifted the seal on the letter with his nail.
Dear Terry,
I don’t suppose you know who I am, what with you receiving this letter and all. First and foremost, I shall tell you that my entire fortune is yours. But there is a catch. You must travel east, to the city of Joytengal. There you will find another letter. Follow its instructions.
Best of luck,
Lord Tutlon
P.S. If you happen across the Clock With Wings, bring it down to earth, and rewind it. Apologize to everyone for me; I have made some mistakes.
“Well?” the man in the suit asked again.
“He… left me his money.” Terry continued to stare at the paper.
“All of it?”
“All of it.” It was like a dream.
“And?”
“And…I have to go to Joytengal.”
“What for?”
“He said…” Terry noticed something below the P.S. Smudged ink? No, a watermark. Terry titled the letter, trying to get the light just right. When he finally saw it, it read: DO NOT TRUST THE MAN IN THE SUIT. “I mean, I want to got o Joytengal. To get away from the orphanage.”
“…Is that…so?” The man in the suit spoke carefully.
“Yes.” Terry looked him straight in the eye, determined not to let himself be intimidated. It was difficult.
Finally, “If that is all, then you may go.” He extended a hand.
“Thank you.” Terry took it slowly and shook it.
Terry waited until the office door closed behind him, and then he ran as fast as he could out of the funeral home.
-
The man in the suit lingered behind the desk, his fingers in a contemplative pyramid. He knew what was on that letter; he’d read it. Why hadn’t the boy told him everything? There was no reason for Terry not to trust him. Unless… Damn that son of a bitch Lord! He must have slipped a message in there somewhere that was normally invisible. No matter. Terry was a boy; he would make mistakes.
“And I will follow him to Joytengal. And I will be flawless.”
-
Carter opened his eyes. He was in the center of Granstburg, his home city, yet, he had no idea of what lay beyond the wall of the orphanage. This was a new world for him to explore, and even though he had a destination, the prospect was daunting. And a little scary.
