The halls of the Perlin mansion were like a graveyard- cold, silent and haunting. Isamu sat in the glass greenhouse that sat at the back of the mansion.
On the table were copper contraptions that he was putting together as he read the instructions from the book that lay beside the machine.
Ever since Sion and Harrieta left six months ago, his father had not paid him much attention; not that he had ever. He at first thought that it was the presence of his step- siblings that robbed him of his attention but now he begged to differ.
Day after day, he had to endure his father's cold stares. Night after night, he had to listen to the creak of the bed, the muffled laughter, the soft moans that made his stomach turn. His father didn't care who heard. He didn't care about anything.
His mother would always say, his ways didn't matter; his pocket does.
How he hated her for that, Sion was right; his mother caused his misery.
He screwed the last piece to the mechanical owl and turned the key in the abdomen- one, two, three.
He closed the belly. A soft cling of moving wheels filled the air and the owl came to live. Frist turning the head, here and there and with a spread of its wings, it took off.
Isamu's eyes crinkled as his lips stretched into a smile as the bird encircled the entire building, it came to rest on his shoulder.
He had been working on this for months and now it was finally complete and the best part was that it was his idea, the first of its kind, there is no way his father would not recognize his talent now.
He watched the owl preen its copper feathers, a small, rare smile on his face. For the first time in months, he felt something other than despair. He felt hope. And hope, he knew, was dangerous.
Isamu rose to his feet and ran into the mansion, through the hall and into his father's study, his eyes widened as he sees his father with yet another woman, his hand pressed against her pale lap.
The lady jumped to her feet on sighting him pulling down her skirt.
"What is the matter?" said his father.
Isamu gave a curt bow. "Father I-"
His voice cracked, his gaze turned to the woman and back to his father, his hand tightened into a fist.
His father didn't even look at him he pulled the woman back to his lap and his hand continued its slow, lazy path along her thigh.
"If you have nothing worth my time, then leave," said the father.
Isamu's vision blurred as his nose flared. He gave a curt bow turned and walked out the door.
As he walked down the hall towards the garden, a man with his hair pulled into a ponytail looked from his father's door to Isamu and his lips stretched into a grin.
*****
Isamu sat under a cherry blossom tree the owl on his shoulder, His throat closed up, a hot, tight fist he couldn't swallow past. He tried to breathe, but the air came out in a ragged, broken hitch- half gasp, half sob. His jaw trembled. He clamped his teeth together so hard his molars ached, but the tremor traveled down to his chin, then his lips, and he couldn't stop it.
The owl stirred on his shoulder, letting out a soft mechanical chirp. Even his creation seemed to sense his pain. He had no one. He had never had anyone.
"Fascinating" said a voice behind him.
Isamu turned. It was Sir Dahifit, the head servant. He was tall and had a similar build as his father, his hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a patch of grey hair above his right ear. His eyes radiated with a warmth that he had never known before like the warmth a hen provided to her young.
Isamu wiped his eyes with the back of his cloth.
"What do you want?"
"Young master" he said his voice soft and smooth like honey. "I couldn't help but notice that which sits on your shoulder."
Isamu looked at the bird and back to Dahifit.
"What, pray tell, is it?"
"An owl, a mechanical owl. I made it myself" he said.
"Really, can you tell me young master how it works."
Isamu's lips stretched into a smile, finally someone had recognized his talents. Isamu's eyes were filled with childish wonder as he explained everything in details as Dahifita listened with the keen interest of a student.
"You, young master have quite the talent" he said.
"You really think so?" asked Isamu.
"Of course, for I have travelled far and wide and I have never seen such an extraordinary creature made by the hands of a Naheorthiai before" he said as he sat.
"Well, my father doesn't think so."
"Any father that does not recognize the talent the gods embedded in his children is but a miner without a brain"
Danhifit looked into Isamu eyes, "Young master" he said. "You carry a gift, bestowed to you by the god Utiha; the god of the forge whose wonderful contraptions wow even the gods themselves. And anyone who does not see that is but a fool."
Isamu lips stretched into a smile; this was all he needed to hear.
"Thank you."
"If you don't mind young master" he said "I could introduce you to some tutors who could polish his talent of yours."
Isamu's heart swelled with joy
"You'll really do that?"
"Of course, Young master."
Isamu's lips fells and his brow crinkle
"My father, he'll"
"Young master, you let me worry about your father" he said as he put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"For a man of talent need not wait for the approval of others before his shines."
Isamu threw his arms around him holding him tight as eve holding on to the last batch of air. Danhifit's lips stretched into a smile as he reciprocated the hugged.
*****
Alsheda sat in her living room with a piece of paper in her hand, it was from house Perlin and it read.
"Warm greetings,
So far nothing of suspicion has happened since the departure of the lady of the house however I have taken a particular interest in the bastard son, Isamu. He would be a great asset in the mission ahead.
Yours Truly,
Sir Danhifit"
Alsheda's lips stretched into a smile, she turned her gaze to her sister that sat on the couch by the window knitting.
"Not long, sister. You and the children will be free." Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly around the letter. She had set the pieces in motion. Now she could only wait and hope they didn't fall apart.