The Demon Boy

Day Three - Morning

     The boy is awoken by his empty stomach. He curls up, clutching his sore belly. A combination of hunger and pain culminates in a rude awakening. The sun's barely up for crying out loud! He groans, rolls over, and waits for his stomach to unclench so he can resume sleeping. The ache abates without vanishing. Respite eludes him. He digs his head out of the pillow. Like it or not, he's up and he'll stay that way. He rubs at dry eyes, stretches feeling into heavy limbs, and dashes on his shoes; he's put them on the wrong feet. A melodramatic sigh as he puts them on right.

     Hunger's made him cranky, meaning he's got less patience than usual for nonsense like this. Not that he has much to begin with on a Monday morning.

     The bedroom door swings open. He plods out a moment later. He's still stiff. One stretch wasn't enough and a second proves equally disappointing. He's stuck with a wooden gait.

     When he ventures into the main hall, he doesn't see the front door because it's thoroughly obscured by the foreigner standing in front of it. The boy blinks lazily at the large man. His brain doesn't work during the early hours. It takes him a few seconds. When the realization hits, he's instantly cured of his morning blues. His first instinct is to rabbit the other way, but the foreigner's gaze glues him to the spot.

     The foreigner approaches him. His mouth is the only part of him that makes sound. "It is curious that a child should be running amok at this early hour. It leaves one to wonder why, exactly, you've found it an appropriate occasion for a stroll into town." The foreigner stops a few paces from the boy. He towers over him.

     The boy steps back as puzzles through the foreigner's obtuse wording. And he thought the way toffs talk is confusing. Toff talk has got nothing on this guy. He responds to the part he does understand. "Who says I'm going to town?"

     The foreigner makes a short rumble. "Clever. Though you've not answered my question."

     "You haven't asked one."

     More rumbles. "Clever indeed... You certainly are nothing like Myr."

     The shift in tone is a tell, but what for? The boy examines the foreigner for more cues. He sees little, if any. Brick walls are more expressive. Time for a change in tactic. "What do you want?"

     The foreigner returns from whatever train of thought he had departed upon. He scrutinizes the boy as thoroughly as the boy did him. "I come with a proposal. It is one which caters to both our interests."

     "... I'm listening."

     And so, the foreigner details his proposal. "Myr has ordered myself to ensure you do not interfere with his current lifestyle. I cannot disobey his orders. That said, it seems any concerns about you making deliberate efforts with aims of pestering your uncle are unfounded. For what other reason would you be actively avoiding him by, oh I don't know... sneaking out at dawn?"

     The foreigner's got him on all accounts there, all except one, but the boy will let that rest. "I dun see what this's got to do with a proposal."

     "I'm getting there. Have patience... The crux of the matter is as follows: you wish to have as little contact as possible with your uncle; I wish to do as little as possible to comply with Myr's orders. I believe we might forge a solution from there."

     The boy squints up at the large man. "You got somefin' in mind?"

     "Indeed. This is what I thus propose: I shall direct you away from wherever Myr is at any given time, should the need arise; erstwhile, you may do as you please, so long as you refrain from doing anything that would prompt Myr to order myself to deliver you before him. Such things would include liberation of various cutlery from their respective drawers."