The Butler's Master

Exile - Part 1

[Exile – Part 1]

Kyren Greaves-Crawford was lost. He was so hopelessly, absolutely lost that he didn't even know how to retrace his footsteps to somewhere familiar, somewhere he distantly remembered being to in his excursions out of the Mansion.

He truly hoped that he would see something that could trigger any sort of helpful memories when he turned around the corner at the end of a street that he didn't know the name of, but was met with a completely unfamiliar sight. He concluded quickly that he must have walked into the dirtier part of town and tried to make a U-turn back. It was then that he realized that he had not just walked into the dirtier part of town. He was already inside the area.

"Kylar, where are-" Pure instincts that had been inculcated in him for the past 15 years made Kyren speak up, spinning around with the expectation to see either one of his butlers following politely behind him and not making a single footstep or sound.

But there was no one on the dirty road behind him. There was no Kylar or Kyvan, with their expectant smiles for his orders, their readiness to help him out. There was no one.

And now that the sky was darkening, Kyren was beginning to find out exactly how scary an unfamiliar place was turning out to be now that he was –for the first time in his life –absolutely and utterly alone. His heartbeats quickened at the small-jolt realization that his mother had not hidden any safety net for him in this exile –that she had not secretly asked bodyguards or servants to trail him. Louise had been deathly serious.

He could not help the moisture rising to his eyes despite how he tried his best to keep them back. Kyren had not felt such real fear since childhood when he had almost been kidnapped twice. But in those situations, he always had his family, his backups. He used to have Kylar and Kyvan, and back during those kidnappings, he had been saved by Keyron and Aunt Kiera.

Now, he was completely alone. The terrorizing fear made his feet heavy like lead, and his imaginations –fueled by childhood trauma of almost being kidnapped –made things worse. Kyren's tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he stood rooted on the corner of the empty evening street, the occasional gusts of wind bringing up stray newspaper littered on the floor, creating a scraping sound that ran a chill up his spine.

"Oi. You're in the way." A sudden gruff voice speaking to him make Kyren jump, and a force from behind him took him by utter surprise as he fell forwards to the floor. Kyren trembled with imaginations of monsters and kidnappers on the floor, ignorant of the scrapes on his knees received.

"What's wrong with you? One small push and you're already on the floor? Sissy boy, go home and suck your mama's tits!" The man who had bumped into him laughed aloud as he walked off, ignorant of the crying boy who had quickly curled up in a ball of fear.

He couldn't do this... Kyren had thought he would be able to fake it. After his mother's announcement in the morning that he would be exiled from the family, Kyren had been locked up in his room while Keyron had been tasked to arrange everything he required. During that lock-up session, Kyren had alternated between moments of disbelief and anger, then deluded self-reassurance that he was going to do fine, that if he could survive by himself occasionally whenever his butlers disappeared to spend some family time with their parents, then he could survive outside the mansion alone. He thought he could fake something –that he could use his bravado of a young master as a shield and demand help somewhere. There had to be some nice town people, he had reckoned.

But for all that self-prep talk, Kyren knew deep down that it was useless. He could not do this... he had been brought up the past fifteen years being taught how to rely on people! He could make negotiations with businessmen. He could strategize to make business work, and, given enough knowledge, he could put together a successful project. But he didn't know how to survive alone. The lessons he had taken up from the tutors his parents had gotten him had been for him to carry himself as a young master, to affect himself as a dignified heir of the Greaves-Crawford Household, and equip him with skills worthy of calling himself the son of Louise and Brandon.