The Three Marked Guardians

Chapter III: The Old Man

“Titus.”

“Dad.”

I know I am dreaming right now; but all I wanted is to hold my dad’s hand.

I am looking at the same mirror. I am not in our school’s lobby anymore. I could smell the scent of moist earth and hear the chirping of wild birds. The mirror has the same reflection; my dad is my reflection. He calls out my name; the way he utters it whenever he says good night. I tried to make one step towards him. My feet feel cold as dews from the grass wash my muddy feet. I continued walking till I am on my last step to reaching my dad.

“Titus.”

“Dad. Let me hold you.”

He looked at me the way he looks at me whenever he gives in to my request for ice cream. He smiled and I smiled at him.

“I want to be with you, dad.”

He shook his head. It broke my heart. Suddenly, the mirror turned dark as though it was covered with black curtain. And it became quiet. Little by little, the moist earth seems to be absorbing me like quicksand. I screamed until I opened my eyes.

--

“Oh my God, Titus! Thank you so much you’re ok. You are sweating like hell.”

I am still nauseous but with my mom’s tight embrace, it’s like I am energized bit by bit. My sight’s still a blur but I tried to survey the place where we are in right now. I saw Sky by my feet and I saw another figure by the window. My hand still hurts but I tried to point towards the figure. My mom knew what I was trying to do.

“It’s alright, son. He’s a friend. He saved us.”

She sounded unsure but her way of saying those words just made me want to trust it.

The figure has been there for long. I knew he was staring straight outside the window. He moved his head towards our direction and walked to where I was lying. I felt my mom’s grip became tighter. The man looked at my mom and nod his head which gestured everything will be fine. His eyes are dark grey like Sky’s. The light from the room made me look at the details of his face. He has a perfectly-shaven beard and mustache. He also has a narrow nostril and pointed tip which you only see in Hollywood movies. His laugh lines are a bit obvious which tells me he smiles a lot. His arched eyebrows are balanced with his grey eyes and long eyelashes. He knows I was studying him. He drew closer and he smiled at me with those perfect white teeth—just like my father’s. His hair is a war between silver and black which tells me he’s in his late forty’s. I think I know this old man.  

I studied him for a few more minutes and then he finally broke it.

“An eventful evening, huh?”

His way of saying those words sounded a bit breathy but his tone means this is a serious business. I didn’t answer back. I tried to but I am still catching my breath from what happened earlier. I nodded instead. My mom helped me adjust so I could sit face to face with our guest. I’ve never felt so exhausted my entire life. I am struggling to speak yet I tried because I have lots of things to say right now. I have lots of questions I wanna ask right now.

“Who are you?”

This is the very first thing I want to know. Now sitting on the sofa in front of me, I can’t help but be amazed with his presence. Such presence command authority and reverence without question. Every moment passing makes me become more desperate to extract the answers from this man. He was just there staring at me holding his black crane with a head of an eagle in the handle. That gave me another impression that this man is rich. He bent a little as if he was trying to catch what I just said.