22

Tiv

Thursday 8th February, Year 825

I was awoken by a harsh knock on my door the next morning. My head banged as I stared at the empty bottle of whiskey on the bedside table. The clock read just before eight o'clock.

Mother is dead.

I'd hoped it was all a nightmare. Nausea, not just from the hangover, washed over me and I rolled over, not responding to whoever wanted into my room. After one more ignored knock, they came in anyway. A small, corpulent man with a long crooked nose invited several people into my room. They all started taking my possessions and carrying them out.

"My apologies sir, sorry we need to be in here," the man said.

"What is going on?" I snapped. "Get out of my room!"

"Governor Hawes informed us you were leaving at the earliest convenience. The moving trucks are outside; we are here to pack up your things. You have been requested to take anything you need and wait in the main living area for your father. We will be leaving at ten-thirty promptly," he sneered.

"Get out of my room!" I barked again.

"I'm sorry, I cannot do that, sir." He continued to point people at my possessions.

I jumped out of bed with my duvet wrapped around me, conscious of the fact I was in my briefs and several strangers were in my room. My entire body groaned in protest as I grabbed the first items of clothes I could find and shuffled into my bathroom swiftly locking the door behind me before anyone could get in.

"What the hells is going on?" I groaned, grabbing my head.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked like death. Deep bags stained my under eye; my hair, or lack thereof, stuck up in every direction and faint bruises cast shadows over my left eye and jaw.

Father had obviously had a psychological break and I had no notion of what to do about it. I considered simply sitting in the washroom and waiting it out like a child however, decided I needed to see Alayna. I hastily dressed and stuck a pair of sunglasses on to hide the bloodshot eyes.

"Ah, Master Hawes, now that you are ready, if you wouldn't mind-"

"Move."

Pushing him aside, I stormed out of the room, thundering to Mother's office and dialling Alayna's mobile number, written on a scrap piece of paper. She didn't answer, probably still sleeping. I groaned.

"I'm coming over now. Wake up," I hissed at her voicemail.

I sprinted to the garage as quickly as I could manage. It took until I was halfway down the driveway for Meredith to appear from seemingly nowhere.

"Tiv, do not leave," she begged, running in front of the car.

"What is going on?" I barked.

"Your Father thought it would be better if we moved up the date in which we moved to Staventon. Your Mother was born not far from there. He figured that would be the best place for us to live–to start again. He wishes to go today."

"Staventon? Live in Staventon? Lambent's capital? Forever?" I forced the words through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Meredith replied gloomily.

"Moved up that date? Mother died less than a day ago!" I shouted.

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"I know. I am sorry, I had no clue. Your Father… he… is not coping well. I think he just wants to get away from this place… indefinitely," she explained expressionlessly.

"So I am to believe that we are moving out of the house I have lived in with my Mother since I was five to go to another country and live there for the rest of my days?" I spat.

"Well… Yes," she whispered feebly.

"No", I hissed, putting the car into reverse and driving on the lawn around her. "I'll be back later."

The tyres screeched as I drove away, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I made it within fifteen minutes and probably accrued a few speeding fines along the way. It was nearly eight-thirty. Two hours.

Approaching Alayna's door I heard a gentle guitar melody floating from beyond the paper-thin walls and wondered if it was her. My fist found the disintegrating door hard—it barely hung onto its hinges—and the music stopped abruptly. I was probably about to get myself punched if anyone other than Alayna opened the door. I waited patiently for someone to answer however inevitably the only person I didn't want to come to the door did.

Ben's grey eyes looked me up and down and he smirked at the state of me, putting to rest my curious wonder about whether the miserable bastard could actually smile. I had never noticed how tall he was before. He leered over me–posture taut–glaring silently and held the guitar in one hand as if tempted to beat me to death with me.

"Alayna please," I said stiffly.

"She's not in," he replied.

Alayna appeared at the top of the staircase, revealing Ben's lie immediately and swore at him, rushing down and pulling him away from the door. He turned back to me and glared. I knew exactly his problem with me yet I was in no mood for an overprotective fool no matter how easily he could flatten me. I simply continued to glare back. After a few seconds, his face softened slightly.

"I am sorry about what happened to your Mum," he said awkwardly, leaving me standing on the porch.

My glare bore into the back of his head as he walked away before Alayna grabbed my hand and led me over the threshold. Upon entering her home, I was immediately presented with a flight of stairs leading to a second floor or a hallway leading ahead of me. The floor was uncarpeted and old, peeling wallpaper lined the walls. It was a tiny place, just as cold inside as it was outside. At the end of the short downstairs hallway, there was a door to the right and a door straight ahead in which I could see into a kitchen. Nate came through that door and approached me, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. He wore a thick flannel shirt, reinforced work pants and durable gloves, obviously about to leave for his lumberyard. He pulled a glove off his hand and stuck it out, shaking mine with a grip so tight, it was painful. Definitely intentional.

"Julie sends her love. My condolences go out to you and your family," he said robotically.

"Thanks. I hope Julie is alright…" I muttered, head banging.

"Thanks Dad," Alayna said dismissing him.

Nate quickly got the message and walked back into the kitchen area yet not before looking me up and down. Coming to her home was a moronic idea. The notion that the only reason I hadn't been flattened was because my Mother was dead was not a comforting one. Additionally, in a house this small I knew everything I said could be heard. I looked down beseechingly at Alayna, obviously having just woken her up. She looked like she had put on the first thing she could find, like I had done. Her hair wasn't styled or even brushed and she had no make-up on, not like she ever wore it much anyway… She had never looked so perfect. And I was about to leave her.

"Shall we go for a walk?" I murmured.

She nodded quickly and I didn't say anything more as she followed me from her home, down the narrow road towards Rowe Meadow. We walked for a while making idle small talk–her pointing out chalk drawings Ben had made on the pavement leading to the meadow for the local children–as I tried to formulate meaningful words.

"Thanks for calling. It gave me time to beg Dad to let you in the house. Now please tell me what's going on," she pleaded.

I didn't want to admit to myself what was happening, never mind her. I took a deep breath.

"I'm leaving today… For a very long time by the sounds of it." Each word I spoke became more painful than the last. She didn't reply so I carried on, "I have to go. According to Lambent tradition, we have to bury Mother where she was born. Father has gone insane and wants to move for good. I have to be home for ten-thirty and that is when we are leaving," I murmured.

"You are leaving in less than two hours," she whispered.

"Yes," I replied.

"For good?"

"I don't have a choice, if I did I would stay here with you," I admitted.

She stared at me with bewilderment in her eyes. "Please don't leave," she begged.

My eyes dipped to our intertwined hands and for a moment I really considered it. I could have acquired my own apartment in Central, easily. There would have been no need to hide in fields or worry about photographs ending up in magazines. We could have had our own little haven. However, my fantasy was swiftly crushed as it depended on my Father allowing his money to be spent in that way. Allowing his son to stay behind and continue a relationship with a scab. I knew, without consultation, that the answer would be a resounding 'no'.

"I will come back. I promise." That much I could say.

"No you won't," Alayna laughed humorlessly.

"I will. It may be a while, months even. I'll get inheritance from Mother and the first place I'll come is to you."