A Butler's Memoires

A short story written by Eyel. It's part of the Chronicles of the Hand.
== Full Synopsis ==
Gusts of wind and snow, I was nearly frozen when I arrived, beated down upon the glass, the only window to the outside world from the barely lit room. The two candles, the third had burned akwardly and had buried the kernel making it unable to ignite, barely managed to lit the table, let alone the rest of the chamber. With his eternal grin, he had developt a habit of grinning ever since the 'accident' and I wish I'll never have to go through the things he went through, the warlock sat upright, massaging his temples, with closed eyes, like in meditation.
Suddenly he looked at me and I'll never forget the hollow gaze in his eyes, it was like staring into the sockets of a skull, holes were used to be something but was eaten away by time and suffering. I never really knew what happened to him after we had parted. His low voice, clearly matured, spoke gently, though his words reeked of arrogance. "She agreed, wonderful, I knew she'd come around eventually. All that rests for us to do is arranging the meeting. Mind going on another adventure while I take care of the details." It wasn't a question, I learned, in my times of servitude, that he wasn't the man to ask, rather demand, deeds to be done.
Informed about where he orded me to go this time, the Dragonblight of all places, I nodded, I made a habbit of staying silent during the times he was in this state, enthusiastic and reserved, his eyes flaming vividly and yet at the same time staring at me lifelessly. I didn't want to know. Luckely enough the mission he had install for me would take me from his side for quite an admireable time, perhaps long enough to think of a plan if I were to fail, death would be a blessing if things would end up a complete failure.
I stood up and made my way for the door. I turned around, I think it was pity that made me care, and looked at the man, now sitting at the desk, clearly sorching some sort of text, I had seen him use that trick many a time before, with his finger. I could hearing only shards of his self-aimed whispers. "..an union... my brother it will work.. finally!". Silently as the grave did I close the door behind me, a journey of snow and ice awaited.
Category:Story