Lord of the Wicked [✔ COMPLETE]

Chapter 5: End of a childhood

Somewhere along the way of sprinkling blood Valek had fallen asleep on the carriage.

Upon waking up he found himself in a four-poster bed with red velvet curtains draped in each corner and a black chandelier hanging above him. Valek sat upright and looked around. In front of him stood a round table with a pair of padded brown chairs, and on the table stood fruit and water. It was not a massive room, but he could tell it was bigger than his own bedroom. The brick walls were decorated with paintings of people wearing crowns. One of those faces he recognized.

Valek slid off the bed and walked over to the image he'd seen in his head when he was at Dr. Fisnik's office. For a long time he stood there and stared at the picture of his father. He'd never known the man, according to his mother he'd abandoned them a little time after Valek was born, but he had seen his pictures and it was no doubt the same man. Either that or his twin.

"You're just a picture," Valek whispered at the painting. "Not a father, not even a man, no, you're just a picture." He looked down with a frown and blinked away the upcoming burning tears. "A picture, that's all you'll ever be."

A wooden wall with a handle caught his attention and he slid its door open. Inside were three walls covered in rows of clothing. When he looked down he noticed that he still wore his own clothes. For a moment he hesitated as to whether he should get changed, but the fear of embarrassment held him back from doing so and he stepped back and closed the closet.

The moment he reached to grab a banana from the fruit bowl the door creaked open and Old Olly entered, greeting Valek with a smile. The brown cloak he wore stretched from top to bottom and reminded Valek of a burlap sack. At first sight it was a friendly looking man with slightly squinting eyes and some freckles on his wrinkled, sagging cheeks, but then upon looking more carefully he noticed that Old Olly carried a hollowness in his eyes, as if the old man looked right through him instead of at him.

"My Lord," Old Olly said. "I hope you had a good sleep. You're summoned for breakfast."

"I did." Valek gave him a nod. "Lead the way."

After being led through endless brick hallways they entered a room where a long stretched, oval table stood on a Persian rug. The smell of fresh baked bread welcomed him. Though he didn't count, Valek assumed there were at least two dozen seats shoved upon the table. Those seated were familiar faces by now, and though they were still strangers he'd only met yesterday for some reason he felt like he'd known them forever.

There was Darko Drazik sitting at the far end, never smiling but always looking pleased, and never going anywhere without his axe and a pack of smokes. And there, across from him sat Tsega, the charming and adorable Asian girl who killed people for a living, presumably with the katana strapped on her back. Over there were the blonde twins, nearly dressed the same but the differently styled hair is how he could tell them apart. That and the fact that Tycho could come off quite mean. Finally there was Dr. Fisnik, the very last doctor he'd ever go to for a treatment. These people oddly felt like a family, like they were his own kinfolk, which made Valek all the more scared.

If anything, he still felt dazed like he were merely in a dream.

Valek took a seat next to Dr. Fisnik and the pack made two equal rows of three. The table was filled to the brim with food. Baskets of bread rolls and muffins, scales with sliced fruit and pancakes and sausages, sunny-side up eggs, and even plates with fruit-pastries with a side of whipped cream. Once he smiled and picked up his fork, a wave of chatter flowed through the clinging of cutlery. Valek chewed and listened, and though he wanted to engage in the conversations he couldn't figure out a way to do it, so he just remained silent and ate a bit of everything.