"And that's when she said, 'I'll consider it!'"
"If you gave me money every day to 'read your future,'" Clare replied with a snort. "I'd consider dating you, too."
It was nighttime in Dewton. Though the sun had gone down, the streets were as alive as ever. A while ago, Evan had been picked up by Sam and Clare. His parents didn't like the two of them much, so he had to sneak out to join them in Sam's car.
The three friends chatted as they headed towards their destination: the public baths, located in the same wealthy district they all lived in. More than a place to get clean, the baths boasted their own library, a place to do laundry, and a few fields and courtyards where people could play sports.
But, the three weren't going there to bathe. Nor were they after any of the other luxuries. No, no, they had... different intentions.
"Evan, buddy, I love ya'..." Sam shook his head, smiling. "But 'I'll consider it' is just a nice way of saying no."
He passed the bottle of liquor he had been drinking from over to Clare. He had swiped it from his dad's cabinet, and the three friends had been sharing it. Evan hadn't taken many sips... he was still a little anxious about alcohol.
"I don't know." the teen said. Though it had happened hours ago, his heart was still thumping from asking Ellie out. "I've just got a good feeling about it."
"What do you see in her, anyways?" asked Clare, arms crossed. She took a glug from the bottle. "She's kind of a weirdo, isn't she? Lives in a tent or something?"
"She doesn't live in a-" Evan was quickly cut off by his friend.
"Yeah, but she's got a great butt!" Sam said, briefly taking his hands away from the steering wheel to trace a wide, round outline in the air. "I'm talkin' a peach the size of a melon here!"
"Oh, really, huh?" Clare said, grinning. "Say, you should introduce me to her, Ev!"
"Hey!" Evan's voice was sharp.
Sure. Ellie's butt was nice, but it was far from the only reason that he liked her. It was hard for Evan to pin down, but there was just something... captivating about the girl. About the way she talked, about what she talked about. There was an air of mystery around everything, she always made sure not to give him too much information. It made him want to learn more.
Given that it was his car, Sam was obviously in the driver's seat. Clare and Evan had played rock-paper-scissors to decide who got the other seat - the machine was only designed for two passengers. Evan won, so Clare was wedged between the boys. In her lap was a folder. She elbowed Evan, and since it was already jammed into his side, it wasn't hard to do.
"So, in more important news." she said, pushing the folder towards him as she took another drink. "I finished up some comics in class today."
<New comics?>
Evan eagerly snatched up the folder, opening it to find a stack of small booklets within. They were handmade but expertly so, their pages about double the size of a playing card and bound together with string. The teen shuffled through the stack, looking at all the covers and leafing through some of them... they might've been comic books, but they definitely weren't for kids. Nude bodies were everywhere on those pages.
Now, Evan knew he might've been a little bit too girl-obsessed, even for a teenage boy. But Clare? She took it to another level.
"Geez, why do you make so many ones with weird monster chicks in 'em?" Sam asked, glancing over at the comics from across Clare's lap. "Who reads that shit?"
"L-lots of people." said Clare, sticking out her tongue. "I'm not into it, but they're top sellers."
Out of curiosity, Evan flipped one of them open, then shut it just as fast when he figured his friends might see. Yep, he wasn't into it either. Definitely wasn't into it...
"So, you gonna help me make a few copies this weekend?" Clare asked.
Evan wasn't much of an artist, but Clare had taught him this pretty cool method of making duplicates of drawings. You had to put the picture you wanted to copy on top of a glass box that had a candle beneath it, which basically made the paper transparent. Then, you could slide another paper over it and easily trace the image. Clare would make the original art, Evan helped with copies, and both came up with stories. Together, the two of them had formed a two person adult comic book company. It brought in a lot of pocket money.
"Of course." Evan said. He took a few seconds to think about when that was.
<Today's Friday, isn't? Yeah, sounds right... man, summer always messes me up.>
Suddenly, the car rattled to a stop.
"We're here!" Sam said, stating the obvious. There was a special lot near the baths for automobiles, just newly built - Sam's was one of about ten there. After he hopped out of his car, he grabbed a chain that laid on the ground below. It was attached to a large steel rack nearby that was fixed firmly to the ground... with the chain and a padlock he had stored in his glove compartment, Sam could secure his precious machine from any wannabe thieves.
While Sam worked on locking up the car, Clare took her comics back and neatly sorted them back into her folder.
"So... you ready for this?" when she was done getting her folder back in shape, she found the cork for the liquor bottle and pushed it back in with her thumb. As she did, she looked over at the massive structure that was the public baths... Evan had his eyes trained on it too. It was intimidating. This whole situation was intimidating.
After a second of hesitation, he gulped, then nodded.
"Y-yeah." he said. Clare smirked when she heard his voice crack.
"You know, you can totally pussy out, Ev... I wont think any less of you." she bent down to stash the liquor beneath the car seat. "I don't think I could go any lower if I tried, to be honest."
"Hey... words hurt." Evan crossed his arms. "Why are you even doing this with us? You can just walk in and look at all the naked girls you want."
Sitting back up and flicking her hair behind her shoulder, Clare laughed. "Oh, you really don't get it, do you? Voyeurism makes girls infinitely prettier."
<Well... no arguing with that logic, I suppose.>
Suddenly, Sam cut in, slapping his hand down on the hood of the car. He had finished chaining it up.
"Alright, let's go guys..." he noticed the worry on Evan's face. "Aw, hey, no need to get scared, man! I've done this plenty of times."
"Well..." what Sam said calmed Evan's nerves a bit, but uneasiness was still churning in his stomach. Clare was already climbing out of the car... that made him feel like he should too.
"Trust me, man." Sam said. "Nothing's gonna go wrong."
* * *
As it turned out, things did go wrong.
"Master Evan..." as he brought the young man a towel, the old butler shook his head. "I doubt your father will be very happy about this."
Strewn out on the couch and dripping wet, all Evan could manage was a sigh. His whole body felt sore, like instead of skin he just had one big, nasty bruise.
"Yeah. Don't remind me."
"I just want to know," the man asked quietly, crouching down to be at eye level with Evan. "What, exactly, were you thinking?"
Evan shifted into a more comfortable position, wrapping the towel the butler had brought him over his shoulders. He thought for a few seconds.
"I... I really don't know..."
It had all happened so fast. One moment, he, Sam, and Clare were sneaking around the guards. The next, they were climbing into the rafters. Then... a beam broke, and he slipped, and fell, and fell, and fell, until he hit water.
Naked girl-filled water.
In any other circumstances, a bathing pool filled with nude women would've been heaven for Evan. But his entrance had left them all screaming, and his friends had also screamed too, and then the guards came in, and... yeah, it was pretty much hell. Two burly guys had dragged him all the way home, where his mother answered the door... man, was that a fun conversation.
Speaking of his mother, he could hear her upstairs, shrieking at his father. Evan couldn't make out all of it, but he could hear delightful words like "delinquent," "degenerate," and "disgrace," along with some choice swears he never thought he'd hear her say.
The woman was mad, sure. But not half as mad as his dad was gonna be.
Evan's dad was something of a big deal in Dewton... scratch that, all of Valoria. Arlon Thames was the most powerful, most decorated general there was. Every soldier in the country knew his name and respected his rank - second only to the Emperor himself. For Evan, there were some advantages and some disadvantages to having a man like that as his father.
Advantages? Well, it was pretty much a no-effort ride through academy. Plus, his family was rich! And Evan got to attend lots of high society events, y'know, rub elbows with the wealthy and famous and royal.
Disadvantages? There weren't many in comparison. The only real one was that, as is common with most generals, he was pretty stern. And whenever Evan messed up...
He knew he was gonna get hurt.
Evan squirmed in his seat.
A few minutes had passed since his dad called him up to his office - Evan had been given some time to change into non-soaked clothing. The old man sat right across from him, at the other side of the desk, sorting through maps and notes.
He had a solid foot over his son in height, and a good bit of muscle on him, too. Since he had been told of Evan's misadventure as soon as he had arrived home, he still had on the fancy blue robes any official of the Emperor's court wore. Once upon a time his cropped-short hair had been the same sandy shade as Evan's, but it had long gone gray. Several thin scars ran across his face - two on his right cheek, another on his temple, and a final one on his forehead, close to his eyebrow. To him they were medals, marks of pride earned from a lifetime fighting in Valoria's name.
The man was the definition of intimidating. It was no wonder that he commanded so much power whenever he entered a room.
Silence filled the office, broken every now and then by the rustle of a sheet of paper or the sound of a stamp being brought down on one. For Evan, it was unbearable.
"So..." out of his father's sight, Evan was wringing his hands together anxiously.
The man's sunken gray eyes flicked to the teen, barely visible under the shine of his glasses. "So?"
"Aren't you gonna yell at me?"
Something unexpected happened: his dad laughed. Reaching to his face, he pulled off his glasses and placed them down.
"What, do you want me to?"
Taken aback, Evan jolted up for a second - then slumped back in his seat.
"I just... I just want to know what you're gonna do to me."
The old man pushed aside the papers on his desk, folded his arms on it, then leaned forward. His pupils seemed to burn into Evan's as their eyes locked.
"Well, let's see here... you made an embarrassment of yourself, you tarnished the family name - what you did's gonna be all over the papers tomorrow, if you didn't know - oh, and you got water all over your mother's favorite couch. It's probably gonna leave a stain."
Every word made Evan shrink back a little more.
"So, what do you think I should do to you, Evan?"
"Uh..." the teen tried to raise his voice over a low squeak, but found it about as difficult as breathing underwater. His heart was pounding, but not in a good way. It was like he had just ran a mile.
"Ground me... for... a week?"
His dad raised an eyebrow.
"T-two weeks?"
With a sigh, the old man shook his head. He reached for his glasses and began to wipe them off with the corner of his sleeve.
"Evan, you... I don't even know what to say." he stared at his glasses, at the maps, at anywhere but his son. "You're not leaving this house for the rest of the summer. And come fall, I'm sending you off to Uncle Lot's."
Now, the first part of his punishment hit Evan hard. But the second was like a sledgehammer.
"Uncle, Uncle Lot? The farmer?" he could barely form sentences. "Why him?"
"You'll be working in his fields." his dad explained. "I've already written him a letter telling him you will."
Evan snapped. "I can't go! What about, what about school?"
"I've written the academy a letter too." while Evan had lost his composure, his father remained as sturdy as a mountain. "I figured you'd be happy about getting a few semesters off."
<A few... a few semesters?>
His jaw dropped.
"Wait, how long am I gonna be there?" he asked.
The general shrugged. "Til' you build some character."
* * *
Evan stomped through the hallway. His dad had just dismissed him from his office, and now he was headed to his bedroom. He would be there... well, for the rest of the summer, he supposed.
Before Evan left, the old man had mentioned something about hiring a person from the church to give him etiquette lessons. Apparently it was his mother's idea... only the best from her. Just another thing to look forward to, in addition to being shipped off to pick turnips for his weird uncle in a month or two.
He thought he'd be spending his summer with his friends. He thought he'd be having fun. And even if things didn't work out, he at least thought he'd be going back to the academy to work towards joining the military. But no. No he wasn't.
And it was all his fault.
As he trudged up a staircase - his room was on the third floor - one of the Thames house's many servants caught up to the young man. The staff usually avoided talking with the family, but this case was different. It was Pieter, the same butler who had given Evan a towel earlier that day. Out of all the servants in the Thames's employ, he was the one Evan was closest with.
"Evan, don't be angry about this..."
"Oh, what, just... how?! How am I supposed to not be angry about this?!"
Evan didn't even bother to look at the old man. Reaching the top of the staircase, he sped up as he rounded a corner. He didn't feel like talking with anyone right now... he just wanted to beat something up. Pieter shifted to a jog to keep up with him.
"Your father just wants what's best for you, you know that."
"Just shut up, okay?" reaching his door, Evan tore it open. Pieter stopped behind him.
"Y-your grandfather sent you something."
Evan stopped too.
"Gramps?" he turned around.
Pieter had a parcel in his hands, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. It had a letter attached to it, which Evan could make out some words on: "To Evan Thames."
"There was a note included." Pieter handed the package over to Evan. "Read the letter first."
Evan pulled out the envelope, but paused to shake the package a bit. He could feel and hear what was inside... it slid around under the paper, making a distinctive metallic jingle as it did. Some sort of chain? Whatever it was, it didn't weigh that much.
He turned his attention to the letter, which he ripped open. The paper inside was wrinkled, sepia-tone like a photograph - parchment, that's what it was called. It was written in black ink, and clearly by his grandfather's hand.
* * *
Dear Grandson,
I've missed you! Apologies for not writing more, I just haven't been able to find the time.
This letter will be brief. I've found something, and I want you to keep it safe for me. For the time being, keep it somewhere in your room, or in the house, anywhere will do. I will need you to bring it to someone soon, but I don't know where they're currently staying. I'll write you another letter when I find that out.
DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE.
See you soon! (Hopefully)
* * *
This letter... this letter was the first he had heard from his grandfather since he had left on an airship to the Republic. Two years of silence had just been broken.
Growing up, Evan's father had always been too busy with his military work to spend any time with his son. Instead, Evan had Grandpa Ryner, or as he preferred to be called, Gramps. The man was ancient, but always seemed to be in good shape, especially for a veteran of the Orc Wars. Most of his military buddies that Evan had met were missing at least a couple fingers.
Even as he had gotten older, even when his dad had made the old man move out, Evan had stayed close with Gramps. His dad liked to think it was he who inspired his son to join the academy, but in reality, it was his grandfather's stories. Evan could listen to them for hours and not get bored. They were tales of the battlefield, of traveling the world, of adventuring to new and strange places - they gripped him more than any book could.
Their connection had only stopped when Gramps boarded that airship. He barely told Evan a thing about why he was headed to the Republic... something about an expedition, whatever. And now, he had sent him this cryptic letter, and a package he couldn't even open.
Evan didn't know whether to feel mad or not.
"What's it say?" Pieter asked. The teen folded up the parchment into a tiny rectangle, then shoved it in his pocket.
"Nothing." he said.
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