The Nature of Time

Chapter 23

Noah looked at his desk, uncomfortably sitting in a chair to large and to rigid for his tastes. A hazy sun brought a hint of warmth from the grand windows that the fireplace could not provide the room. It was an ancient building, this branch, and Noah could smell it in the air. 

I don’t know how you did this for so long, Charles, he thought to himself. 

His hand filed through strewn sheets of paper, seemingly littered on his desk. Things about succession, trials, understandings, and ramifications swam on the sheets before him and at some point, he’d need them all signed and read. 

Noah was always accustomed to a certain degree of luxury, but attaining the title of Gryphon brought about something else entirely; the lavish paintings from renowned artists hung on all sides of the walls, inlayed gold swirled into brass marked all the surfaces and hard iron burnished to an impeccable shine curled like vines trimming his new territory.

A knock at the door broke the eerie silence to which he mumbled enter.  A servant bumbled the door open jittering worse than a fly humming near a window, trying to get out unscathed. 

“I’ve brought wood for the fire, sir,” cracked the servant. He couldn’t have been more than an early teen and his fiery hair betrayed any sense of subtly that servants were supposed to adhere.

Noah only motioned an affirmation devoid of anything more than a simple gesture that might have been required of someone in his newly acquired position. The boy nodded, hastily wrestling with the thick bundle of logs that struggled to break out of his wrapped arms. He spilled the contents next to the fire into a thistle basket adorned by fire utensils to its side. Noah stole a glimpse to the boy’s direction and he was met with youthful eyes that wouldn’t let his gaze go. 

“Your name, boy,” demanded Noah.

“Gabriel, sir,” squeaked the boy. “Gabriel Dorsey.”

“I hope you won’t take offense if I shorten it to Gabe.”

The little boy shook his head turning back his misplaced attention to the fire he was summoned to ignite. Little shavings doused atop the smaller bits of logs serving as kindle, yet the boy paused scratching through his medial coat as if he had forgotten something.

“No offense taken, sir,” said Gabe. “I, uh, I…”

Noah rolled his eyes and withdrew a square piece of metal that shimmered from a delicate polish. The chrome was inlayed into a dark background that served to display a magnificent coat of arms. A stag danced with a unicorn, swirling into a waltz, if one were to stare at it long enough.

“Here,” said Noah as he tossed the thing across the room. Gabe caught it rather deftly to Noah’s surprise and the boy turned back to the logs while inspecting the object in his hands. He clicked a couple of wheels that rotated and the thing spouted an intense, but small flame from it’s top.

“Careful not to singe your eyebrows,” said Noah.

The fireplace chirped up once again providing warmth to the entire place, even Gabe knelt for a moment as it caught, savoring the mesmerizing flicker. 

“That will be all,” said Noah. “Thank you.”

Gabe scurried out the door, nodding to his superior, yet he stopped at the doorway turning with his hand stretched out to Noah.

“Your lighter, sir,” he said.

“Keep it,” said Noah. “A thank you for your service.”

The boy looked at it, studying with an intensity that matched the fiery hair atop his head. His finger traced the crest and he smirked, darting out of the room. The doors closed leaving Noah to his paper work, a nice distraction from what his life had become.