Cale Hourglass drew the soaking hood from his head and looked around his surroundings. It was a library; but not just any library.
Bookcase heavily stacked with thick or thin, withering bindings loomed over him.
Chipped wood of ancient scrolls enveloped by delicate yellowing paper, looking as if a single speck of dust would turn it into golden ashes, sat precariously atop one another. Sorts of peculiar objects and ornaments were placed about the creaking shelves.
Above him, the high-glassed ceiling simply looks as if it opened to the heavens. And so, despite the looming darkness, the room was alight with moonlight and shining constellations.
Cale’s eyes strayed to a glass globe about the size of a baby’s fist sitting in a corner on one of the bookshelves. He crossed the room in one swift motion and carefully held the globe, staring intently at it. It was brilliant; the amount of detail slowly revealing it’s self to him as he laid his sharp eyes on it.
An unfamiliar array of planets were hovering and revolving slowly in the transparent glass sphere. The planet in the middle, most probably the sun was of a luminous pearly shade, sometimes appearing rosy pale as it turned. There were only three planets revolving around the sun. A striking purple planet, a small black planet and a deformed dull grey planet. It wasn’t the numbers of planets that intrigued him, but the orbit. Once every minute, it would change course, going the opposite way that it was before.
He placed the globe gently back in it’s place when he heard a soft, almost inaudible thud coming from the other side of the double doors of the library. Cale pull his hood up and stepped into the shadows, fixing his dark brown eyes on the doors and waited patiently for the person who caused the ‘thud’ to walk in.
The golden handles of the doors sank a few inches down. Clearly there was a person on the other side.
There was a low muffle; a moment of silence, and then the doors flew open, followed with the thunderous shout of, “Show yourself assassin! Show yourself!”
An old man, but yet, still in an impeccable state, perhaps around the elderly age of 70 stood in the doorway in his vermillion night-robes, clutching a silver sword with both hands, fuming with rage.
“Where are you?” The man bellowed, stalking and looking around the room, eyes slightly squinted, fists clenched.
Cale stepped out quickly from his hiding place.
“Don’t be alarmed. It’s just me, Douglas.” Cale said hastily, raising the hood over his head, revealing his unmistakable face.
The man rounded on him; sword raised, ready to defend himself, but froze at the sight of the young boy standing in front of him.
“Cale?” He asked disbelievingly, his voice hoarse. Either from the shouting or from the surprise of one seeing an old apprentice after some time.
The boy nodded, stepping further from the shadows.
“Dear Lord, is it really you, Cale?” Douglas whispered, the sword falling from his weak grip and landed on the floor with a low thud.
“Yes, Sir.” Cale answered truthfully.
The old man shook his head, his mouth slightly ajar, then embraced the boy so suddenly that Cale thought, at first that it was an unsuspecting attack and tensed for a while, before relaxing.
“I’m not one for the surprises, young man. Nearly given me a heart attack, by the sight of you, you did.” Douglas said gruffly as released the boy, shaking his head wondrously once in a while.
“I haven’t heard or seen a glimpse of your face since the day you left the manor.” He said, disappointment in his voice.
“Well, I did hear about you once or twice…
“Stole something from our dear Mr. Faulkner did you? Something precious.” Douglas asked, raising a stern eyebrow.
Cale smiled slightly at the memory.
“Faulkner was a fool, Sir. He underestimated me and let his guard down. I was simply proving myself.” Cale said smoothly, without a hint of remorse in his voice.
Douglas broke into a delighted smile. “Excellent, my boy! I can’t imagine he’d be too pleased about it.”
Cale laughed an untroubled laugh.
“No he wasn’t pleased at all. He set his guards and hounds on me and was practically frothing in his mouth by the time I got away.”
Douglas chuckled and turned his back to Cale to pick up his sword. Perhaps it was a survival reflex or perhaps it was just Cale’s deep fighting instinct, but the second Douglas straightened up, Cale ducked instantly before seeing a flash of silver slicing thin air where his neck had been a split second ago.
“Still sharp as a samurai sword, I see,” Douglas muttered casually as if nothing had happened, grinning down at him, the sword, if not a moment ago had been in the air, now held loosely in his right hand.
“Thank you, sir,” Cale said insouciantly, standing up, as if the man hadn’t just tried to slit his throat.
“Very, well, very well, what brings you here, Hourglass?” Douglas asked in a resigned way, flourishing the blade about the room.
Cale studied his master in silence for a few moments.
“Can’t an old apprentice visit his master when he feels like it?” Cale commented, pulling off his cloak and placed in on the armrest of the nearest armchair.
“I know you, Cale. You won’t come here without a reason.”
Cale grinned slightly and shrugged his shoulders brazenly and stride to a wall holding multiple collection of razor-edged swords. (So many things you could improve here, Sophie)
He picked a rather straightforward one and held it up in the low light. It gleamed brilliantly.
(And I have yet to continue, thank you very much!)
