August's steps were becoming unhurried as he hesitated to ask the awkward question which he knew for sure weighed on the girl throughout her whole life, if he dare say.
Normally, he wouldn't have thought this much about the issue, because unlike many people who would surely be taking pity on a helpless girl who was unable to walk— August personally didn't have that kind of a heart towards strangers. Meaning, if she weren't a guest at his home, he would've already asked her the awkward question.
Why was he supposed to care not to hurt the feelings of a person he had just met? He had his own fair share of problems to deal with afterall.
However, despite thinking with cold logic and a reason devoid of empathy, he wasn't able to bring himself to do just that. Was he hesitating because the girl was a guest and his behaviour towards her would reflect his father's behaviour towards his old friend? Well, this was also true that how he behaved towards any of the guests would definitely say a thing or two about the kind of upbringing his parents had given him.
As he thought rationally though, his thought process did nothing but make more sense as the time passed, but something in his mind rebelled against this cold and calculative logic.
As though sensing his hesitation, Damian patted his shoulder and said in a voice which was barely audible for his sister to hear, "Don't worry. I've got this."
August stood some steps back as instructed by Damian and watched as he pushed the wheelchair of his sister gently and stopped just before the stairs. Then he did a gesture, to activate a spell perhaps?
Slowly the element around him came into visual existence. As though countless blue threads emerged out of nowhere, weaving a complex web of fine lines beneath the bottom of his sister's wheelchair. Then the irregular volume of blue threads started to look more real, rather than something illusory created out of nothingness.
The fine threads took the shape of a cloud beneath the wooden compartment of the wheelchair. The blue coloured cloud was clearly lacking in many aspects as compared to the real clouds. They weren't perfect as something that could be compared to the real ones.
Surely because of Damian's limited amount of knowledge and insight into his core element. August understood the reason behind his actions however, rather than trying to make a real cloud he was trying to make a cloud which would carry a temporary purpose.
August was trying to figure out the inner workings of the spell as he watched the spell unfolding itself before his own eyes. The cloud wasn't properly shaped, but it was solid. Which was quite the contradiction to say at the least because the clouds were supposed to be made of gas after all.
Saying it was all solid wasn't also the right thing. It was something in-between. The irregular and dissolving ends of the cloud swirled and lifted the wheelchair up above the ground. Lifting his sister along with the wheelchair, the spell that Damian had created was successfully able to solve this stair problem which seemed quite peculiar to August at first.
He watched in awe as the cloud dissipated slowly, dissolving into the surroundings or so to say back in the nothingness.
All of this happened in mere moments which left August nothing short of impressed by this whole performance. The fact that Damian was able to do this in a very short amount of time meant that this wasn't the first time he had put this spell to use. Which made August feel more impressed, now by the bond between Damian and his sister. He didn't forget to watch the expressions of his sister Marianne through this whole ordeal.
As expected, she remained calm and collected with a polite smile on her face, like this was nothing new to her. The reason she was so relaxed was clear, she trusted her brother and in return her brother was someone who would do anything for her.
August smiled in silence and headed towards his bedroom after showing the guests theirs.
— — —
The darkness of the night had come to an end. A fresh new day was already here marked by the peeking Sun from up above the horizon. The birds were chirping, and the weather was surprisingly calm today. The signs of the rainfall from the previous night were also visible.
Looking at the water drops falling consistently from the roof, August sat in the living area leaning on his chair beside the glassy window. It was already time for his regular sword practice but due to puddles of water on the ground before him he couldn't do so.
'Damn it'
And because it was too early for the meditation practice, he was left with nothing to do for now. His mother was busy preparing breakfast, she also didn't have any class scheduled for today so she was taking her sweet time preparing the food.
August sighed and looked at the book on the table. Nothing to do? He had never found himself in that state before and he wasn't about to now. August was about to do his favourite thing to pass time.
He was going to read a book.
And not some ordinary tale. The book before him was the first volume of the greatest history book he had ever read. Well, not history entirely. Every book that claimed to be based on real incidents was the one, most fantasies were being kept written in —this was his opinion. But the one he was holding in his hands was the book he trusted to be the most real. Means he believed that if a book was written with the most number of real incidents and with actual wordings of the harsh history, it has to be this book.
The most precise one. Not the actual legitimate history, he believed.
August believed the truth wasn't something that has to be sugarcoated in sweet words to feed the masses. According to him, the truth was harsh and bitter. Therefore it has to be naked also –if spoken before the next generation. So that they could learn from the mistakes of their predecessors.
He held the collection of the seemingly ancient pages in his hands which was surrounded by a cover. The cover spoke, "Whispers of the fallen era" in bold golden letters.
Somewhere down on the same page there was something else also written which wasn't very clear to be read. But it was easy to make sense out of it. The letters read, "Volume 1"
As far as August knew there were about nine parts of this series which consisted the information about a historical time period which was referred to as, "The fallen era"
While August didn't know why that particular period of history was referred to as the fallen era, the books contained mostly the stories that spoke of the demise or fall of someone. Only this particular book had a different ending then the rest. That was why if August had to choose a favourite among this series that would be definitely the first volume.
So he was about to read it again, to kill time of course. He opened the book wondering who else in this world might be strange enough to read a history book twice?
He was unique as always. Or a lunatic perhaps.
"That's right" he whispered, letting out a chuckle at his own joke.
"Is it good?" Suddenly a feminine voice came as he looked at the girl Marianne before him, sitting on her ever so perfectly crafted wheelchair. August wondered how someone could look so well put even in the morning?
She looked gorgeous as ever. Her silver-white hair fell motionlessly on both of her shoulders. Her face shone brighter in the incoming light of the sun.
She sat, prim and proper. Her elegance radiated as gracefully as always. With an eye pleasing polite smile on her face, her expressions remained composed.
"Could you perhaps share with me too Lord Augustus?" She asked as her chair moved towards him.
August had many questions about this mysteriously crafted wheelchair of his guest, like how the hell was it moving on its own? That too as Marianne willed it.
No matter how much the questions bothered him, it would be quite rude to ask them to a guest would it not?
So he did not ask them.
Replying to his polite guest he said with a smile, "Yeah it is. Quite fun actually" he lingered for a while then spoke, "it's a story that is based on history" subconsciously he said continuing the sentence, "actually it's not all history. It's a fictional novel that says based on history. And also it's the one I trust the most in this genre."
'crap! Did I really blurted that out?'
August fell into deep thinking for what he had said absentmindedly. He feared their guest could judge him for being a bookworm.
Or a lunatic perhaps.
"Pfft" surprisingly, Marianne who remained composed all the time let out a stifled laugh. But she got herself together quickly and spoke keeping her tone polite, "I am so sorry Lord Augustus. That was impolite of me."
"Don't apologise for a laugh" he replied casually, laughing at his own self, "I don't get offended easily. Believe me."
"You're too humble. Lord, Augustus" she said in the same tone.
"Hey!" August spoke casually, "can we drop this Lord formality?" He continued, "I mean, we are the same age are we not?" He lingered for a while and then spoke, "Also, call me August. It's not that short but my friends and family do."
August wasn't accustomed to being called as Lord most of the time because he hated it. While it was true that he was the only heir of the lord and lady of the town, he did not want to be called as Lord just now. He felt like he hadn't earned the title yet.
According to him the deeds done by a person should signify their importance not the title they are born with.
Townsfolk do keep calling him as Lord but he didn't like it. He thought he wasn't responsible enough to be referred to as superior to them. He was just a child.
Therefore when the girl of his age kept referring to him as Lord, the thing August did firstly was to clear the air. Trying to avoid her polite, noble mannerly attitude.
For instance an expression of surprise was to be seen on her face but she maintained her composure quickly.
"Very well" an expression of understanding appeared on her face, "only if you refer to me as May. My uh.. family calls me that."
August was a bit shocked. He had expected the girl to be understanding enough to get the meaning behind his words but he didn't expect her to be burdened by the same emotion.
Or was it just his imagination.
August's smile grew wider,
"Works for me. Miss May."
May was sitting close to August's chair now. Her eyes glued to the book in his hands.
"So, can I join you too?" She asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice, realised as she spoke minding her manners, "if you are not bothered that is."
"Absolutely not," he replied quickly, "If you want I can read it for you."
"That would be quite generous of you," the girl replied, "I was just wondering how to spend my morning."
August smiled and opened the first page of the book. On it he saw two lines written by the author themselves. He didn't know if the author was a boy or a girl, for now.
Both written in different languages. One understandable and the other, undecipherable as ever.
"Can I ask you a question first?" August asked, turning towards her, furrowing his brows, "where is your brother?"
August was genuinely curious about the protective brother who never left her side but now was missing.
"Damian?" She spoke letting out a stifled chuckle, "he is sleeping."
"Still?" August asked reflexively.
At his question he felt as though there was a shift in May's expression. Her smile faded a bit, looking down at the floor she said, her tone calm,
"Recovering from the use of the spell he used to carry me."
"Oh!" He felt as though he had made a huge mistake. Making a girl as beautiful as her sad?
He was a criminal for that.
August changed the topic hurriedly saying,
"Let's start the story, Shall we?"
— — — — —