Elora Van Eck | Kaz Brekker

SEVENTEEN | THE ROOT OF ALL ANGUISH

***

k a z

HE STRODE through the deserted streets, agitated. Night veiled all the dread by covering the dangerous Barrel like a duvet. Kaz, on the other hand, was still alert. The lethal, his home, resided deep in his bones, always offering him courage.

But even the coldest of hearts had weaknesses. And so, he wandered. Until his eyes darted across pastures, fences, cattle, and a barn. One hand slid into the pocket of his trousers. Every pixel of his pondering face was engulfed by the freezing air of the nighttime. The pungent odor invaded his nose and permeated every cell within his body.

The ambiance was quiet and peaceful. The moon hung low, in line of sight, and cast a bright light upon the grass. Countless beads of water dangling from the grass blades sparkled like jewels.

Kaz knelt. A shimmering drop settled on the black leather of his glove with a gentle sweep. He marveled at this simplicity that looked to be a source of wealth - lying in plain sight of everyone and therefore perfectly hidden from mankind's greed.

In the moonlight, everything seemed quite a bit more beautiful. More admirable. Lighter.

A smile might have touched his lips if this place did not enjoy showing him the darker side of his past. But the wallowing ached since it was this particular spot that not only ruined his life but also shattered his soul. Even if it was merely passively. The root of all his anguish lay right there, on this farm.

He had run, saved himself, and had left his friend to scorch in the hellfire of her father's guardianship.

Kaz blamed himself for it all, and he knew he was the villain in this cruel game. In terms of far more than Elora Van Eck. The villain everyone hated. The villain that would never be redeemed because his life was not theatrical enough.

The boy braced himself back onto his feet, relying on his cane. He made his way across the meadow, past the fence, and toward the barn. He then ground to a standstill only some few paces away from the patched wooden wall – the one that had once given Kaz and Elora illicit entry.

"Can't we just use the front door? I do not want to get in trouble." The girl had spoken clearly. Still, Kaz had decided to ignore her. And it had cost him...everything.

Kaz took no further steps and simply gazed at the gone conviction of his poor decisions. Furious. He was simmering with anger at himself. How inept could a child be? A child who stole with utmost care. A maestro of thievery. And when he wished to be a child for just a singular day, the ground was snatched from beneath his feet.

And all of a sudden, pitch darkness enveloped everything.

Protests and cries echoed out in his ears. There was turmoil in the house, yet there was stillness on the streets. No one dared to approach the building, as if it were the lair of a fire-breathing dragon. That is how it sounded, and yet...

Kaz crept a few strides closer, lurking behind a garbage can, and peeked through the window into the living room. A girl in tears. A man full of hatred. A woman in a comatose state who was shuffled out of the home like a soggy rag.

The girl screamed. The girl begged.

The man comforted. The man accused.

Kaz's ears were filled with pulsation, which drowned out practically every word of the shattered family. Averting his gaze, however, seemed like an impossibility. He ventured a daring step forward, risking another glimpse through the window.

A boy who supported. A boy who removed the girl from the scene.

Another man as wide as a door. Another man so submissive to the head of the house it seemed ridiculous.

Kaz paid close attention to the tangled voices.

Orders were spoken. Words were overheard.

Marya. Rascal. Yang. Marriage. Soon. Money. Money. Money. Business. Lunatic asylum. Sheep. Shu-Han.

The voices faded.

And all of a sudden, pitch darkness enveloped everything.

One gasp and the night lit up.

***

KAZ GROANED as he limped through the streets of Ketterdam. He had no clue how many hours had passed. Which did not appear to pique his attention, however. The only thing that grabbed his interest was who had dared.

The moon faded into velvety dawn clouds, and birds sang a farewell hymn. The sun slowly awoke, and magenta twinkled on the horizon.

Kaz came to a halt and peered around. The walk back to his apartment wasn't long, but he was clutching the two solitary halves of his cane in his hands. The crow gazed at him as if it were weeping. Kaz tightened his grip on the fractured material as he made his way toward the shelter.

  The discomfort in his bad leg crept up into his upper torso with each footfall. The ache in the back of his skull migrated into his abdominal area. And every inch of his body stung cruelly.

But what he had seen there, buried deep within his memories, brought him assurance. Despite the pain, a malicious grin hissed across his face. "You assume you're the mighty alpha upon that throne," he whispered, "When in fact you're nothing but a pitiful lamb that must flee from the lion inevitably." The boy snarled, although the city was still asleep, "This game will be over way too soon. Pity."

***