A spacious study at the Segel Residence sat in a strange, still silence, a silence broken only occasionally by the quiet swish of Theo's pen as he rapidly made notes on the Kantian Civil Wars. The warm mid-morning sun poured unabashedly through the window, the rays somewhat uneven, broken by the branches of the aged Acacia tree that sat just a few paces from his study's window, and had grown over decades to tower over the mansion.
Theo's tutor had departed about an hour before after dropping a load of assignments on his desk. Theo, however, did not mind.
Minutes turned into hours as ink dried on pages, his pen's shadow shortening as the sun climbed further up the sky. It was a few minutes past noon when Theo finally moved. His joints ached slightly, creaking like rusted machinery. Interestingly enough, he enjoyed having to groan audibly as he stretched his back. He always did it with a smile. It meant work had been done.
He picked his history and slid it back into its spot on the shelf next to the other colorfully covered textbooks on Literature, Physics, Biology, Psychology… Stepping past his desk he headed for the door and went straight to the kitchen, ready to hunt down his first sip of water in three hours. As he crossed the long hallway leading to the kitchen he couldn't help but feel proud of himself. That is why he chose then to drink water, and perhaps get a snack. That was his reward. It was a rather strange practice he had developed as a young child; never to eat or drink until work was finished.
He was shocked to find the kitchen in a state of unusual excitement. House aides rushed by him, excusing themselves seconds too late after knocking into him as they carted serving trays into the dining room presumably. The head chef was barking instructions at the cooks as they twirled the contents of their pots furiously, dabbing their steamy hands on their white uniforms, leaving faint stains that would have to be dealt with later. Theo watched the hullabaloo in confusion as he tried to remember what was planned for that day. After yet another aide bumped into him he decided to step aside and into the pantry so he might give them space, and find what he came to loo for.
From the one the shelves in the rather dark pantry he pulled out a bottle of water. After unscrewing the lid, he downed half the bottle in three large gulps. School was thirsty work. He sighed contentedly afterward, his mind drifting back to the chaos in the kitchens. Even then he couldn't seem to remember what was happening that day.
"Theo, shouldn't you be getting ready?" A kind voice asked from behind him, and he smiled as he turned. "Or are you lost in that big brain of yours?"
"My mind is can be a tumultuous labyrinth, Andrea. Easy to wander into, much harder to navigate out of," Theo said as he embraced her.
"I bet it is. Don't get too lost though." Standing at six foot two, with a slim though slightly gaunt frame, Andrea had the sharp jaw, long nose and mildly blue eyes of the quintessential southerner. Theo he had known her since he was born, for she had been the house steward for almost twenty years. As far as he could remember, her slightly wrinkled, but nevertheless sympathetic eyes had always been there.
"You really should be getting ready," she said, walking past him heading to a shelf to the far right.
"Why? What's happening today?" He asked as he watched her.
"Absentminded professor. That's what you are," she said with a smile as she scanned the shelves for something. "Your father will be hosting a noble today."
Theo sighed dismissively. That's why he forgot. Because it was something that happened every other day.
"So what? Father is always hosting nobility. What difference does it make if I attend?" he asked, leaning on the pantry door frame, his voice bearing only a hint of the disdain he felt.
"This isn't just any noble. Your father will be hosting an Arch-Doque,"she said, her eyes still scanning the shelves.
Theo brow twitched at that. "Which one?"
Andrea slowly turned and, with her eyes glazed over dreamily, she breathed, "Athan Azzlyn."
Theo frowned, temporarily caught off guard by her change of tone.
"I've heard of him," he said, choosing to ignore it entirely. "He's a… clever man."
"And a handsome one too," Andrea said mischievously, and Theo groaned loudly. Laughing aloud, Andrea turned back to the shelves and continued searching for whatever it was she was searching for.
"I thought that at a certain age, people stop caring about that kind of thing," he said, taking a sip from his bottle. Andrea laughed again.
"Not if it's an Azzlyn were taking about," she said, not peeling her eyes of the shelves. Theo groaned again and rolled his eyes involuntarily.
"What are you looking for?" he asked.
"This," she raised a jar of cinnamon into the air triumphantly. "The chef would've had my head if I didn't find this."
"Go get ready," she said heading for the door. "The guest is to arrive in an hour."
*
Theo took a deep breath, quickly, and nervously adjusting his tie, and gave three light knocks before stepping into his father's study. He had never understood what it was about that room that rendered him so anxious. Perhaps it was the room's vastness, or the fact that it was always dimly lit, with the bay window drapes forever drawn. Perhaps it was the tremendous and heavy mahogany shelves reaching up to the ceiling, lined with books, ancient and modern, classical and contemporary, arranged meticulously in some unknown, and most likely arbitrary order. Perhaps it was the tall closets sitting in the corners, dark and clandestine. Perhaps it was the paintings of his grandfather, his father before him lined on the walls, watching with eyes that still felt alive with scrutiny, eager to have voice so they may pass judgment. Perhaps it was the heavy glass trophies decorating the various surfaces, sitting polished as the letters on them shone in bold: Award for Outstanding Service to Humanity.
Or perhaps it was his father, Matthew Segel.
The paterfamilias sat hunched behind his desk, his long hair drooping forward slightly as his eyes parsed through sheets and sheets of paper sprawled all over his desk top. As Theo shut the door behind him he couldn't help but notice how different he looked from his father. While Theo's hair was a light chestnut brown, his father's was as dark as the unseeable bottom of a well. Theo's face was rounder, with softer edges while his father's was sharp, almost angular. And while his father was dense and tall, Theo was slim, and spiny, and not very tall for his age. The only source of light on the room was a desk lamp that sat staring at the same documents his father did.
The main lights always stayed off, and the drapes closed. Theo knew why. It helped his father focus. Theo was almost embarrassed to interrupt.
"Good morning, father, he said, standing a few paces away from the desk. Matthew's gray eyes slowly peeled from his papers, slowly rising to meet Theo's, his head rising only a moment later.
"Good morning, Theocritus," he said in a somewhat flat tone before returning to his papers.
"I prefer Theo, actually," Theo felt slight regret rising within him, curling and twisting further when he heard his father's dismissive scoff.
"Really?" Matthew said dryly, the statement evidently not concerning him enough to even lift his head. "And why do you prefer Theo?"
The urge to wince washed over Theo, infuriating him greatly, and motivating him to stand up a little straighter. "It's a tad bit ancient, father," he said with a firmness of voice that surprised him.
"That's the point, Theocritus," his father finally lifted his head, facing him fully. The urge to wince washed over him again as his father's gray eyes studied him with mild irritation. "One of the best ways ensure that we do not forget our histories is through names. And Theocritus is a name of great history and prominence."
While he wanted to argue, Theo thought it wiser to simply let it go. His father's fondness for the classics was as irritatingly undeniable as it was undeniably irritating. Matthew's focus quickly went back to whatever it was the sat on his desk under the gaze of that faithful lamp's light, and a silence fell upon the room which Theo found increasingly awkward and uncomfortable.
"I forgot to offer my felicitations. Hosting an Arch-Doque is a great honour," Theo said, another desperate attempt at communication.
"Aye. It is a great opportunity for this family. I want for you to attend. A great deal of planning went into this."
"Is that why you forgot what today is?" It just slipped out. No forethought whatsoever, not a single opportunity to overthink the decision of whether or not to ask him. His father said nothing, but stilled like a sculpture, every rigid on his face becoming more pronounced. His sharp brows became sharper, and his mouth went from a thin line to deep and dangerous frown.
"Leave. I have work to do," he said, and went back to his papers. Just like that. Theo stared at his father, wide-eyed. He couldn't understand why he felt such anger curling up within him. He scolded himself furiously for expecting anything different. The nature of their relationship would never change. Proper. Cold. Formal. At least that is how it had been since she had died. Her death rendered their world empty, and their relationship ersatz and essentially non-existent. Matthew paused once more and looked up. His face couldn't have been any more serious. "Leave now."
"Very well," alas, what could he do about it?
*******************************************
Athan Azzlyn, the Arch-Doque of the House Azzlyn wasn't like most nobles, officials, or businessmen his father would host. The lunch was, of course, dreadful and dreary, as they all were, and the little office scene only served to make it worse. And while Theo subscribed to a policy of saying very little, eating very little, and moving only when necessary , a policy that had gotten him through a great many dreary lunches and dinners, something about the Azzlyn he found to be deeply upsetting.
"You're rather quiet," Azzlyn said suddenly, shifting his gaze to Theo, who had already been staring curiously at him.
"I find that there is great bliss to be found in silence. And great insight," he said plainly. While he wasn't unfamiliar with the essentials of diplomacy and politics, he in no way enjoyed careless, unnecessary indulgence.
"Well spoken," Athan flashed a brilliant smile that sent frost down Theo's spine. "Do you study the histories?"
"Extensively, my lord. What else am I to do in my solitude?" Athan's lips stretched to a full smile.
"You should meet my son. I feel that you two would get along splendidly," It was hard for Theo to tell whether or not the man spoke truth. Damn politicians! "That can be arranged, can it not?"
"Of course, my lord," Matthew said, "I've heard a great deal about your son. He's an impressive young man." Theo scoffed internally. What did his father know about anything? And who said he had any desire to meet the infamous Adonis Azzlyn? He'd have rather had someone gut him and asphyxiate him with his own entrails.
The lunch went on for another quarter of an hour.
"Congratulations on your appointment to the Treasury. Lord knows the realm could use a man fo your cunning to effect change," Matthew said matter-of-factly.
"You flatter me, Mr. Segel," Athan said with another perfect smile. "But alas, I agree. I'm a firm believer in the eradication of old systems, before the creation of new ones, as you know. And much of the old world has began to decay, and must thus be burnt away."
Theo was stunned at the ease with which he said this, and what also struck him as odd was how easily his father listened, continuing to eat as if they discussed weather. What was going on?
"Speaking of which, do you have everything ready? I'd like to go through some of it, if you don't mind."
And with that, lunch came to a swift end Matthew and Athan left the table, quickly retreating to the latter's study upstairs.
***************************
The house aides moved swiftly to clear the table after Matthew and Athan had already vanished into the study. Young Theo watched them emptily, motionless and deep in thought. More and more, the outside world drowned itself out and the world within became sharper, more vivid. He began to replay the events of the lunch, the morning, and the more he did it, the more his mind became a battlefield of justifications of his father's behaviour and fierce rebuttals full of scorn at the sheer ridiculousness of them all.
His limpness faded, and his senses gradually returned, but with renewed purpose. Pushing his chair back, the suddenness of his action startling a few passing aides, he turned and headed for the stairs. What am I doing, he thought. I'll simply ask that we have a conversation after his meeting with the Arch-Doque. The oak steps sounded hollow as he went up the stairs. This can be ignored no longer, the thought rang resolutely in his mind. He arrived at the floor's landing, walked to the study's door, and raised his clenched fist to knock.
No longer.
To Theo's surprise, just as he touched the door, it creaked open. Taking a deep breath, with resolve gripped desperately in his hands he stepped through.
"Father, pardon my interruption but-" he stopped short when he realised that the room was empty, the quiet interrupted only by the distant whir of the AC somewhere in the large, hollow space. Scanning the room a second time, half expecting them to leap out from some discreet unknown corner, Theo walked hesitantly to his father's desk. Where could they be? Did they leave, he asked himself, then walked to the window and pulled back the burgundy curtains slightly. There, underneath the bright afternoon's sun were the Arch-Doque's guards, dressed in all black, looking terribly serious, and a little cliché.
Peeling his eyes away from the window he turned back to the room, and just as he was about to make the decision to leave did he then see it. A small, blue sliver of light, azure it seemed, was faintly flashing from between two shelves at the geometrical center of the room's east wall from the door. The light drew him, like a moth dazzled by a flame, and before he knew it, he was squinted t small space, trying to make out what could be beyond it. There was something back there. He could feel it. For a short minute he debated about leaving, which would have been much wiser and much more like him, but this wall presented a mystery. One he grew more intent on solving by the minute.
Minutes passed as he paced about trying to figure out how to get beyond the wall.
Hours passed as he prodded tirelessly through books on the shelves, which he had to return neatly, so as not to arouse any suspicion. The sun continued to creep cruelly quickly along it's arbitrarily designated path, and before he knew it, sundown was approaching. Shadows lengthened and poked shamelessly through the room, gradually fading as the room darkened. The security lights outside flickered on automatically. Twilight.
Theo collapsed dejectedly on the floor.
"There's probably nothing there but a generator, or a large circuit breaker, or some servers," he said aloud. "What am I doing?"
Almost on cue, the two shelves let out a dull, low groan, startling Theo. Then they began to slide apart. Theo's eyes widened frantically as his head swung from left to right. The door was too far away. He wouldn't reach it in time. Glancing to his left, he saw an open closet and immediately rushed toward it, flinging himself inside, shutting the door. Panting furiously, he hugged his knees and retreated to a corner. Blood pumped in his ears and his skin dampened with sweat. Oh shit, he thought, holding his breath.
Shortly after, there were voices, one high and clear, the other low and diplomatic.
"Your progress is remarkable, Matthew," came Athan's evidently pleased voice.
"It has been bitterwork, my lord," Matthew said with a sincerity that brought such life to his voice that Theo forgot all his previous panic. More ambitious than usual, Theo decided to peek through the blinds.
His father and the Arch-Doque stood facing each other before the parted shelves in a room now washed in bright azure light. The shadows of the two figures stretched from the floors and rose into the walls, sharp, angular, unsettling.
"Matthew," Athan's voice had such warmth to it that Theo wondered at the nature of their relationship. Business partners did not speak with such intimacy. "Matthew, their epilogue quickly approaches, undeniable and inescapable."
"Yet our first chapter is only beginning," Matthew said, a smile in his voice.
"We are ready for the next step then?" The Arch-Doque asked, his voice taking on a strange flatness.
"We are. Are you ready to see the rest?"
"Lead the way." The light of azure vanished, and a low thud sounded as the door shut, then silence. Theo made sure to wait at lest three minutes. When he heard the cars outside rolling out of the residence, that's when he decided it was safe to come out.
Epilogue?
First chapter?
Next phase…
As he wandered past his desk, half in a daze at what he had just heard, something reflective hidden beneath his father's papers caught his eye. He stepped towards the surface and cleared it of the papers, revealing a dusty black screen seemingly built into the desk's top. As he brushed over it with his thumb, suddenly it flashed on. The screen read, in green print: DNA CONFIRMED. There was another soft, dull groan, and the tow shelves slid apart.
Theo stepped before the bright light, squinting and shielding his still adjusting eyes. Another door of solid, polished steel stood on the other side. It dinged as it slid open, revealing a clean elevator. One that lead to depths he might have not known existed. Secrets hid behind every wall, especially those of a family like his. Secrets that built those walls. Secrets that could destroy them.
And it was time to learn.
He took a deep breath, and stepped into the elevator.