When they arrived back at the estate, Ron quickly set up everything. He requested time off and even made arrangements for one of the deputy butlers to attend to Cale.
Marcus was shown to a room with Beacrox watching over him like a guard dog.
Cale was honestly pleased. The two Molans were efficient and he liked that.
Having nothing to do after lunch and not wanting to join his family–he still hadn't built up enough courage to get through one meal with them– he left the estate. He hadn't had any time to let loose since his return nor had he had anything to drink. He was sixteen again and he still planned on retaining his trash persona. Though this time it was just to keep suspicions off of him. He wouldn't need to act like dirt to his family this time around. He had no intentions of keeping up the former pretensions because it was more important to him to keep his family safe. He also planned on telling his father that he wanted nothing to do with being territory lord. Basen was an adept person and Cale very much believed that being lord suited his younger brother very well.
The noise of glasses clinking and conversation greeted him when he opened the door to the bar. The smell of alcohol and greasy commoner food assaulted his nose. He wasn't a big fan of commoner food but the alcohol in this place was pretty good.
He grabbed himself a seat and a waitress came to take his order not long after. He also liked this place because the workers were quick and efficient. It was a shame that this place was destroyed along with most of the territory surrounding the estate.
Cale shook himself out of those depressing thoughts and ordered the most expensive wine they had, it was also the best tasting wine they had.
The waitress came back shortly after and placed the bottle of wine and a wineglass down in front of him before heading off to the next table.
Cale popped open the wine bottle and poured some into the glass. The movement was elegant and smooth, looking as if it came quite naturally to the young boy. He gently swirled the contents of his glass before taking an appreciative sip. Instantly, his cheeks became stained red.
Listening to the light conversation of nonsensical things helped to lighten his aching heart as he sat in his seat, quietly observing the patrons.
Cale leaned back into his seat, his face was flushed a bright red but his eyes were startling clear. He had already finished his second bottle and was debating if he should order a third or retire home.
"Let me go." The feminine voice was strong and firm though Cale heard the hint of desperation in its tone. He looked over to where the voice had come from and found the waitress who had served him. She was being forced up against the wall and a ruffian was squeezing her wrist.
The small waitress tried to wiggle out of the bearded man's grasp but his hold on her only tightened. "A feisty one," the man purred appreciatively. His free hand, which had been on her waist, moved down to smack her on the ass. The waitress's face became red and her eyes reflected the fear and anger that she felt.
Cale felt his own anger boiling. He really could not stand ruffians and gangsters, or pretty much anyone who would toy with and harm the weak. Gripping his hand around the neck of the empty wine bottle, he stood up.
It was natural and familiar, the way he let his feet stumble and how he purposefully ran into a table, one that was empty. "Let her go." His words came out in their practiced slur. It appeared to the world as if he was drunk and sitting on his high horse.
The ruffian turned his head to sneer at him, not releasing his grip on the woman. "What are you going to do about it," he practically laughed, words coated in sarcasm.
Cale stumbled closer to the guy with a drunken smile plastered on his face. "Let her go," he repeated like he hadn't heard the guy's words the first time.
The guy let go of the girl and raised his fist to strike Cale. Cale let his feet hit each other and pretended to stumble forward, missing the guy's oncoming punch. He twisted just enough to make it look like he was trying to catch his balance and elbowed the guy right in the dick. He learned long ago that keeping an upright act in fighting like one was taught in nobility was not always the best way to go. He had learned a good lesson from the commoners during the war, and that was that you had to do whatever you could to win the fight, even if you had to fight dirty. And dirty he did fight.
He kept his back bent and held his arms out, bent at the elbows, and tottered forward on a few stumbling steps before making it look like he found his balance. While straightening out his posture, he found the ruffian glaring at him while holding onto his manhood. Cale then sharply spun around with his arms out just a little farther than they needed to be.
Wham!
The ruffian was struck right in the jaw with the empty wine bottle. There was just enough force in it to send the man reeling back.
"You bastard!" Spittle ran down the man's lip and jaw as he shouted in pure anger.
Cale plastered on the most arrogant smile that he could. "Wrong. I'm Cale Henituse." He then turned toward the waitress and held up his empty bottle. "May I have another one?" Taking the opportunity that was given to her, the waitress bolted off toward the counter.
Now that she was out of harm's way, the bartender and cook came out and dragged the ruffian out of the bar. They then turned toward Cale.
Cale held up his hands. "Let me pay first. Oh, and I'll take the third bottle with me." There was no way he was going to let someone drag him out. He was perfectly capable of walking himself out.
He received the bottle from the waitress who graciously thanked him. He gave her a small, sober looking smile before it morphed into a trashy, drunken grin and he then paid his bill.
The walk back to the estate was quiet and rather uneventful. He chugged down the bottle of wine and tossed it into the closest waste basin before returning home.
The knights and servants he passed on the way paid him little attention, only a few greeting him.
He was almost to his room when a door opened. Little Lily peeked her head out of the door and looked up at him with wide eyes. She then began to nervously tug on her shirt. "Bro-brother?"
He went over to her and bent down until he was eye level with her. Lily really had been young when he lost her. He kept his fists from clenching and gave her a small, warm smile–at least he hoped it came off as such. "Yes, Lily?"
She looked down at the ground and fidgeted with her shirt even more. "Do you hate us?"
He felt his heart sink and an overwhelming sadness tried to swallow him up. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, his mouth now completely dry as if he hadn't had anything to drink for days. Pulling himself out of his inner despair, he pulled the little girl into a tight embrace. "Of course not. I could never hate you or anyone in this family." He pulled away and looked down at her, unaware of the fire in his eyes and the unshed tears that were making them glisten. "In fact, I am doing everything I can to ensure that you and everyone else have happy, long, peaceful lives."
She looked up at him, still encircled in his arms. "Then why won't you eat with us anymore?"
Out of all who could have called him out on his avoidance, it just had to be the youngest. "I have been a little busy but I promise that I will try to make time to join all of you tomorrow."
A frown tugged on Lily's lips and it was just adorable. "Not just tomorrow."
He patted the top of her head. "Okay. How about I have breakfast with everyone every day unless something important comes up?" He had never thought that he would be in this position, negotiating with a child. He couldn't say that he hated it though.
Lily vigorously nodded her head. She then grabbed his hand to help him stand up before tugging him into her room. He wanted to laugh at her behavior but he was confused as to why she was acting like this.
She jumped up onto her bed, not acting at all like a noble, and patted the spot next to her. "Tell me a story."
Cale felt his eyes widen. He had definitely never been in this position. Did he even know any children's stories? "How about I read you a book?"
She shook her head with more force than necessary. "I want to hear a story about you."
That definitely was not a good idea. Cale's life was filled with grief, drunken grief, aggressive drunk behavior, war, and lots of death. "Can I tell you a story about a place I visited?" He placated instead.
Lily's eyes widened and sparkled in excitement. "Yes!" This time, Cale did chuckle at her cuteness which earned him a frown.
He settled down onto the bed beside her as he searched his memories for places that might fascinate his little sister.
Red sand surrounded them on all sides. A Dark Elf woman met them in front of a dune. Before he could ask, Beru placed a blindfold over his eyes.
"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice filled with nervous amusement.
Beru leaned in close, close enough that Cale could feel his firm muscles pressed against his back. "I want this to be a surprise." Hot breath tickled against his ear.
He and his lover had gone to the Land of Death in what was once the Caro Kingdom to visit Beru's hometown-the only Dark Elf city known to exist.
"I will enter behind you," the female Dark Elf said. Her voice pricked a memory in the back of Cale's mind. He was sure he had heard her voice before.
"It's going to be straight down," was all the warning Beru had given him before wrapping his firm arms around his waist. Beru took a step forward and Cale felt them falling. Actually, once he settled his racing heart, he realized they were sliding more than they were falling.
"Is this a slide?" He asked, leaning back into the warmth of his lover.
"It is."
A few seconds afterwards, the two of them landed on a giant pillow-like mat. Beru helped him to stand and removed the blindfold. "Welcome to the City of Death!"
Blackness fell away from his eyes to be replaced with light. Standing before them was an impressive city that looked as if it could be a capital in some kingdom–not that there were many kingdoms left on the Western Continent.
The tall buildings were impressively built and looked to be well maintained. There were fountains with water, rivers, and foliage located throughout the city. Where it should have been dark since they were underground it instead shone brightly with the many lights scattered throughout.
"Beautiful," his voice came out in whispered amazement.
Cale pulled himself out of his memories. "How about I tell you about a place I once visited, a place called the City of Death." Lily frowned but otherwise looked excited as she snuggled back into her pillow.
"Long ago, there was a necromancer-the last one known of her kind. During the war with the Church of the Sun God, she used up her powers to create a place where races with the darkness attribute could live. The race that calls the City of Death their home, are the Dark Elves."
Lily's eyes sparkled. "You met a Dark Elf, brother?"
"I have."
"What do they look like?"
Cale chuckled, surprised with his sister's questions. Most people tried to shy away from those who had the darkness attribute. "They have beautiful dark hair and eyes. Their black skin shines with an opalescent quality. They are both beautiful and powerful with their natural talents."
He pulled the bed covers up as Lily snuggled back into her pillow. "Shall I continue?" He continued his story when she nodded. "The City of Death lies hidden, and only a few know of its location." He then described the slide that was the access point, the foliage, the stores, and how Dark Elves, Elementals, and humans lived together peacefully.
Lily had fallen asleep by the time he had finished, a smile resting on her small face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before heading to his own room for the night.
. . . .