WILLOCK 36

Well, as all odds were against me, as all tables seemed to have turned against me in my biological, or better of said, my motherland, the universe seemed to have a liking for me, an intendent, an intention better stated. Since my arrival in this new world, I have not, or rather, never brought myself into a position to check what was happening in my hometown, but I knew today was always the Duke of Bavdon's season ball, to celebrate his feeds, growth, family, and to bring all the lads and slaves working under his mercy into a celebration mood. It was never, of course, the largest ball in the country, for, of course, it would never beat that of the baron, nor would it occur quite as flourishingly as that of the Viscount. News always embraced the Viscount ball with the best of imaginable and well articulated words; the Viscount just seemed to put something else in his balls; I was just never lucky to attend one of his, and well, I don't need to think if I shall, for my motherland, well, seemed to never have a liking for my kind.

I had packed up the little things I had acquired from the adventures and what I had bought, mostly Arabian clothes, to look more Arab than the royal English man I was brought up to embrace. So, yeah, I had packed up much of my items; it was already morning as, of course, the chirping of birds. They always loved the mornings, I am sure. Amir had said it right that I was meant to leave with him today; he seemed to have dug deep about me and realized my papers were fake, or rather, it seemed he knew. I guess he will work out all of that. Ezron was quite adamant about me leaving, but maybe this was the time, or rather, this was what destiny intended for me. I wanted so badly to meet Amir, to have him and seek ears from him, but it seemed well he knew me all along. I took the ink and the pen feather, picked a piece of paper, and decided to write. It was not something I had thought of, but I just felt writing would finally give me peace. I was never at peace, dearest reader, despite the writings before stating that I was quite happy. Emptiness embraced my heart; I neither recall nor am I certain of the day I ever had real joy, well, happiness; but really, does anyone ever find it? My heart was so numb, I even sometimes wondered if I ever had one. Some nights were sad, and others were very depressing. Sometimes I would look to the heavens, hoping they would write me a letter, hug me back, and just tell me it would be okay, but it never did. I guess I hid my pain better, but the pain always came back, as do the feelings I have today. Ezron had walked with me through all this, step by step, from my lowest moments to today, and it felt like leaving him was suddenly the hardest to do; how would it not be hard if he were the only family I ever had, after mine, of course?

 

Dearest Vikings, the Duke of Bravdon

Knowing my area of writing will do you no good, but this ink I write is meant for you and you alone. You taught me to be a lad of honor, from respecting to keeping promises, from enjoying life to accepting pains. This has been a journey—alone, afraid, and involuntarily painful. If missing was a person, then I'd draw the whole being right here. If options were to come back, then I'd crawl like a wounded, unlucky animal.

Today marks the anniversary of our harvests and celebrations. I celebrate us. I celebrate us. I met a friend, and he held my hand through all my troubles and journeys. Armstrong became a lad, a rather useless father; he alone knows what he did, but I thank him for that. I have been welcomed somewhere far away, away from the seas, away from all the lands, in a different nation, embracing different cultures. Coming back is a word I sure do not know about; thus, a promise is rather promiscuous of me to make. I write to celebrate this day, dearest Duke of Bavdon. Prosper with the greatest deals on properties, and let your sons and daughters know I hug and greet.

From my world to yours, all love is only that that I can give, but as emptier as my heart has become through the days and nights, it seems to have lost the touch, but I shall always embrace you, a family.

  From;....

 

I don't know the intentions I had to write the letter, but I felt the writing was deserved. I had missed them so much, and with today being a special day for him, he deserved a surprise from his lost son. Of course, he would never cut me off or cut his ties with me.

I took the letter, carefully folded, took the nearest evelop, and carefully wrote the area of my wants, the English lands, west of London, at the township of Bavdon, to none other than the Duke himself. I was, however, not sure how long it would take for the letter to arrive. I had not stated my area of stay because, first things first, I was not sure who would read the letter, and in case my father had decided to abandon me, he would never find me, despite writing to him. I said abandoned yes, because the truth was that England was a land where anyone would literally turn a back on you, especially my roots, which were ardently a worry to many in the monarchy. I feel they worried so much about me, for even the other lads, the princes to be precise.., were quite bastards, as I don't remember if it were Henry or some talks in some insane hotel I ever was, but yeah, I had heard that right, but surelty is that which I lack.

"You sure have everything right there?" Amir asked me, to which I nodded as I joined him in the carriage carrying him; I guess his sister was in the other. I had also written a simple thank-you letter for Ezron, with which I hoped he would find somewhere in his heart to forgive me. I just hoped he understood. The carriage started as fast, which made me remember my lad days when I was being carried by carriages and horses to visit different ballroom dances. Now I am a simple fuckinn peasant. Fuckinn is a bad word; it was much used in the American nation, not quite advisory for one like me. It is indeed a very bad word.

"Hey, when we arrive, do you mind some drinks?" Amir asked, suddenly changing his tone toward me, and I felt the former friend I had somehow returned; however, he had somehow intimidated me, so I just smiled at that, for after all, he was still my senior in many ways, you all know.

The ride was quite smooth; I would approximate it to a ride from London to the Lake of Tigris, a one-day or some-hour waste on the road. After arrival, I had never set eyes on the palace of another place other than the monarch, the palace of England. This palace was quite flourishing with its elegant gold and silver linings, in addition to the many guards who guarded the gates. Amir had not introduced me to anyone; he just led me directly to his room, and I was actually surprised, for I expected maybe I would own a room for myself. "The rooms and other rooms are full. This one is mine; I thought you wanted to rest from the trip, feel comfortable and free; we shall have to do you some changing, your dressing, and your representation, as Father will seek a word with you soon." Amir stated. The question was, why would Amir's father, of all people, seek a word with me?

As I thought about all this, a man with beards long enough to almost kiss his chests came in with two ladies carrying different clothing, and they seemed not to talk, or rather, they did not even look at me. After preparing the bath tub and putting on some weird, different-scented flowers, the man came to me.

"Hello, Your Honor, we request that you remove your clothes." I was used to taking baths back in London, of course, but suddenly it felt different. For the most part, I showered alone, in rivers, or not at all. I quickly stuttered when he steadied me and began removing my cloak. I sometimes hated feeling stupid, so I just did as I was told and entered the bathtub. After a lavish and shy full bath, I was taken and placed in front of a reflection... a mirror. For the first time, I really looked at myself. The crazy beard that had grown and the long hair that had made its way to caress my shoulders. The dark circles under my eyes made it seem as if I hadn't slept in a long time. My face had undergone a different kind of transformation, but I was still handsome, I would say, judging by the looks different ladies used to give me. They started cutting the ends of my hair, and I suddenly said, "No, why?" But my words were to no avail. I wanted this hair to grow as much as possible to show the inches and lengths of my adventures, but it seemed that all of that was meant to end right now and here. One by one, the inches fell to the ground, and suddenly I felt a bit of pain. This hair was all that connected me to my motherland; shaving it meant that I was reformed and forgotten, or I had finally decided to let go.

It was all done, when Amir entered. I had not even looked at me in the mirror, and I suddenly checked myself out, my blue eyes shouting deep in my face. My long hair was occupied by a short one…, very short. They had shaved almost to the liking of leaving me hairless, just bits; it was more of a pinch of hair left on my scar, one inch, I may say, all through equal. Back in Bavdon, I had never shaved to such an extent, unless I did the slick shave on the sides and back but not slick shaving all of it, but I still looked lavishing with my little and small head. It was suddenly cold, of course as my lengthy hair was long gone.

"To your liking, prince?" The man asked Amir.

"Yes, that is quite good; now let him wear the clothes." Amir stated.

He sometimes spoke as if we were strangers of sorts, or perhaps he was concealing our identities. The clothes had more of a prince-style look: a long red cardigan, a white khaki shirt with many pockets, some black, lady-made trousers, nice black knee-length boots, and a navy-like cap—black with red stripes at the center. I suddenly saw myself as a different man, to the extent that I wondered if it was really me.

  "You look flourishing." Amir stated.

"Why am I to be like a prince? I am just here for the pianist job." I stated, which made him smile a bit.

"Willock, a lot awaits you, and pianist job, yeah, that's still there." I saw the man, who I said had a lengthy beard, suddenly look at Amir, and I felt maybe something was fishy about all this, but truth be told, in as much as I would love to create chaos and be mad, this was a country I did not own. I had Ezron back in the hotel I needed to save, together with his mother, so whatever this is to be, I shall accept.