Eiso had never feared his father nor has he ever known him to be a vengeful or temperamental man in the slightest. For the most part his father had been a loving and kind person. Even so, he expected the worst the moment the two reached their abode. However… the anger and outburst he had prepared for surprisingly did not come. Instead Dekard simply declared that he would be on cooking duty that night and after their meal, he sent Eiso to his room.
That night Eiso did not sleep. As he laid there underneath the stars, tears streaked past his cheeks. All he could do was think. Never in before had he experience this feeling from his own father. It was not fear from the possibility of his impeding wrath, nor was it quite the usual feelings of sadness and hopelessness he had been all too accustomed to. It was a new emotion.
Anger.
It was this burning sense of anger. Not towards Tynan. Not towards Papri or Rikka. And not even towards his own father. It was a rage that he can only direct at himself. A fury of disappointment. A feeling of being a colossal waste of space. A stabbing pain in his heart as this scorching sorrow consumes him. This agony of being a failure to his father kept with him throughout the night until dawn.
In the morning his father instructed him thusly.
“I spoke to Marle, and you won’t be needin’ to go back to the apothecary for a while.” Eiso could do nothing but silently agree.
His interactions with his father slowly became shorter and more distant. Each morning his father would get up early, cook them breakfast with whatever ingredients they had, and then silently slip out to town for an hour or so. Then once he got back with groceries he would set them inside before slipping out the back behind the house. The dip in the quality of their meals aside, their evenings fared no better, as his father would repeat the same process as well, only to quietly head off to his room without even so much as looking Eiso in the eye.
The silence that surfaced between the two quickly became intolerable, and any small talk or question he would make would fail to come past his lips as the pain in him would block his throat. The only solace he could find each night are in the leather-bound pages that he carries with him in his pack, but even his usual habits felt empty and pointless. At times, Eiso would much prefer the long-forgotten outburst that never came instead of suffocating underneath this uncomfortable peace.
At least with that he would feel some form of redemption.
Never the less. There was one ray of hope that spouted within him. The chance to see his friends again.
Day by Day, for weeks on end he would visit the usual shade underneath that familiar tree. From evening to dusk he would sit anxiously, unwilling to move, and night by night he would fail to see those he called his friends. For now, this all he could do. He was not allowed to stray too far from his home any more, and his father decided to take a temporary leave of absence to stay home for the time being.
Is this how it will end? The first time he talked to someone, the first time he had companions his age, was this burning desire in his heart sparked by Ms.Burrough going to pitter out into nothingness?i Is this how far his resolve will take him? Did this mean so little to him?
…
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‘No.’
Determination filled his soul. If his father wasn’t going to give him the chance to make up for his mistakes the he will do it himself! With this new resolve, he gathered his bag, got up from that tree and marched down to see his father whom he could hear chopping wood behind the house.
When he rounded the corner, he was slightly alarmed at the sight before him. Stacked like sentry towers, were massive piles of freshly cleaved wood. Dozens upon dozens of lumber towers as far as he could see. Even a sizable clearing formed as his father mulched though a quite a number of trees. Evidently, Dekard spent most of if not all if his time home on this one activity. Hearing his approach Dekard looked up and glanced at his son, only to turn his attention back to his work at hand. Not dissuaded he pressed on standing before his lone guardian.
“Dad?”
*thwack**thwack**thwack*
Dekard simply ignored him, and continued with his ‘work’.
This silent treatment bit into Eiso’s heart. Even so…
“Dad. I…I’m leaving!”
Eiso practically shouted yet it was clearly enough. In the middle of a downward strike with the axe, Dekard’s hands slipped on the handle, letting the tool fly spectacularly through the air and off into the distance. Not noticing this Dekard simply stared back in wide disbelief. After a moment or two Dekard finally held a firm grasp on reality once again and took to deep thought until finally facing Eiso seriously. Looking into his eyes he continued.
“I am going out to see my friends! I did something wrong. I failed them, I know that. But… I have to at least try and fix this!” Eiso poured his heart out, as he confessed everything. Him teaching the others magic. The joy he had being together with them, and the fear had of losing them. Everything he did for the past year he laid it bare for his father to see.
“Tynan, Rikka, Papri… they protected me. They did so much more even if they didn’t know it, and now they…. Well… I won’t let you get in my way! I’m going to see them. I’ll find some way to make it right s-so don’t try and stop me!”
With his eyes watering he stammered his out his declaration and despite his announcement of doing so, he simply waited for a response. Another brief moment of peace looms over the two. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Even though he committed to his decision, Eiso could not help but feel anxious as his heart beats a heavy drum into his chest. That is until…
“Do remember. That day I said I got something to talk to you about.” Dekard spoke in a surprisingly soft voice that silenced the world. “It’s the day you turned seven. An’ I know, you’re only supposed to give a gift a fifteen, but I heard somewhere that some people in distant places would give gifts when a kid turns in age every year. A bit wasteful if ya’ ask me…but…I wanted to give you this,” From his pocket he pulled out a small-thin decorative box. Well, small for Dekard and his immense size. Dekard opened it for Eiso to see, inside was a simple double-edged dagger with an ebony handle.
“That day with Ms. Burrough, I…I figured I could teach ya’ to use it. I…couldn’t stand the thought of lossin’ ya’, just like we lost…” Dekard shook of that last thought. “It’s hard to imagine you’re only six.” He proceeded to put the box away into his pocket.
“I’ll have it watin’ for you when ya’ get back.”
Eiso’s heart built up with a crescendo of joy at what was just said until finally…
“Good luck kiddo.”
A burst of excitement and cheer filled Eiso to the brim, but as he lunged to wrap his arms around his father, Dekard raised his hand to give him pause. “Whoa! Hang on there! After such a manly speech like that, the cool thing to do is to jus’ walk away ya’ know.” Though his father speaks of manliness Eiso could see tiny sparkle run down father’s cheek.
With a simple smile Eiso uttered, “Thank you”, before turning tail and sprinting down the road, past the familiar tree and back to town.
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Dekard watched as his son ran down the road and out of sight. The moment he could no longer see the bouncing pack his son would carry with him wherever he went, he wiped his eyes and made his way back in side. Pulling up a chair he sat down.
“FUCK!!!” He suddenly grabbed a clay cup on the table and smashed it against the wall with enough force to shake the whole house.
“WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING!? GAAAHHH. I’M SO DAMMED PATHETIC!!” After a few hours raging, shouting, resting, then venting some more he finally sat back down.
“After all this time. My son had to grow up without me. My own son had to be the bigger man and come to me. All cause’ I’m a failure. I’m a fuckin’ failure of a father…pathetic.” Dekard, covered his face on his hands, before pleading to no one in particular.
“Rem…I wish ya were here.”