Locked Legacies

Chapter IV: Dusty memories

 "I cannot believe it! Such an atrocity from my own son!" The king roared through the salon, pacing to and fro.

Augustus' shoulders were slumped as he bowed his head, staring at his feet in shame. A woman, among the chaos, had been able to recognize the prince and, with much regret and despite his wishes, had to report it to the king's right-hand man, Leopold Ashdown. Of course, this infiltration was immediately communicated to the boy's father, who went berserk.

"This is unacceptable! Not only walking into the kitchen but dressing as a servant?! Cooking bread?!"

"Aldrich..." Meredith placed her hand on his shoulder in hopes of calming his husband down, which failed.

"You are the heir! Are you unable to comprehend that?! You cannot be mixed among them!" He rubbed his temple, stopping in his tracks and starting to lower his voice; he was clearly trying to contain his rage. "You are acting like when you were seven years old and, how old are you?"

"Eighteen," he mumbled.

"Say it louder," he demanded, his echoing shouts making him flinch in the slightest, most contained manner he could manage to achieve.

"Eighteen, sire," he obliged.

"Eighteen! You will get engaged anytime now, become a king! How will you gain people's respect if you do that?!"

The man, who currently felt more like a small child, was still looking down, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. His morals felt proud of what he had done, but his conscience felt embarrassed; he knew it didn't classify as wrongdoing, yet it went against the rules that he had very much memorized.

"You will stay confined in your room for a week, unable to see anyone except when you are delivered a simple ration of food. And, if you ever attempt doing something like this again, you will be locked up in a cell. Am I clear?" He spat and received nothing but a silent nod from his son's part.

By orders of the king, he was immediately escorted by the guards to his room. On his way out, he caught a glance of her mother, who was shooting him an apologetic look. There was something about him that she had always admired; there was not an ounce of prejudice inside of him. Gabriel, on the other hand, laughed at him as he watched him walk with two knights by his side.

Indeed, he was locked in, and the sound of the keys proved it. After throwing a fist against a wall, he launched himself onto the bed with a large grunt. He even tried to sleep so time would pass by a bit faster, but it was completely useless.

It was twenty minutes into his lockdown that he started to really inspect his surroundings. For once, he wished his room wasn't cleaned every single day; doing that would be a great activity to kill time. He found some paper, with which he tried to make a swan; when he failed, he spent another hour playing with that crumpled sheet, throwing it into the air and catching it again. The tediousness was such that he even started reading the dullest book about Saints, which he had to drop ten minutes later because it was unbearable.

But, despite his greatest attempts to keep himself busy, there was something that kept catching his eye, something that would entertain him for hours. A large metal door on his left was calling him... Ten minutes passed, and he was still standing in front of it, having an internal battle with himself. A part of him was craving to, somehow, find a piece of Rainer in there, yet the other tried as hard as it could to push the thought of his brother away; if he kept himself busy, he wouldn't have time to grieve. That was his policy and, up until then, it had worked relatively well. But eventually, he would start thinking about him; as a matter of fact, he was already in his mind as he had that internal debate. And so, he shut his eyes closed. His hands trembled a bit as he placed them on the open padlock and took it off. "Here we go," he breathed in deeply, starting to push.

Without even looking, he was able to know no one had entered for months. Every single piece of furniture was covered by a bedsheet and a thin layer of dust, which was no surprise; no one had a reason nor the strength to set foot inside that room, until now. All sounds seemed to be ten times louder than normal; the noise of his feet against the floor, his breathing, his clothes rubbing against each other— he could even hear his heartbeat; loud and steady, just like his brother's once was.

A year and three months. That's how long it had been. Way too long for the palpable creativity of his brother to be lingering in the air, and his beaming presence to still be surrounding every corner. That used to be the place where he felt safe, the spot in his home where he never failed to find comfort. Yet now, it was lifeless in every way possible. His melodious laughter had been replaced by the ghastly echoes of death, and the vibrant joy, poisoned by emptiness.

He padded across the stifling room and towards the covered bed, which was being illuminated by three gentle rays of sun that were sneaking through the Persian blinds. As delicately as he could, he pulled the sheet that revealed the mattress he knew all too well.

It was just like Rainer had left it, with the pillow at its feet. He smiled; he had never understood that habit of his, and it used to bring up a debate almost every day.

He took the liberty to sit down on it and close his eyes, reminiscing the times when he would sneak in there to visit his brother in the middle of the night; he used to be extremely thankful for all the siblings' rooms' connections to each other.

He then moved on to inspect the covered nightstand.

"Raaaay! I'm bored!" the youngest whined, staring at the ceiling while his back was against the hardwood floor and his feet swinging in the air. The other was on his bed, scribbling his ideas away to continue his drawing, which Augustus seemed to hate because it had his brother's full attention.

The white veil was lifted to reveal a leather notebook, its pages fading into a yellowish color.

"Why don't we go riding for a while?"

"Stormi is tired, Auggo, we have to let her rest," he mumbled, his focus still on the brown notebook that had his name on the cover.

His fingers brushed the golden inscription. "Rainer", it spelled.

"Come on, there's a new dragon that is ready to fly!" He jumped up, knowing he would be interested in it.

"We can't ride it if it's not ours..." His voice came out in a mumble as he restated the rules that he had so many times recited to him.

"Well, lucky us! He's mine!"

"What?!" His eyes lit up, "You have your first dragon, Auggo?"

The seven-year-old smiled proudly before being tackled into a celebratory hug by his brother, who then carried him towards his new creature in a piggyback ride. "He is an Anguis Nebula, so I'm going to call him Foggy!" His little voice echoed through the corridors, making the eleven-year-old chuckle. The notebook that was previously distracting him had been quickly shoved onto the nightstand; his brother getting a dragon was way too exciting for him to not pay attention.

His heart tightened yet got warm at the memory.

With a second of mental preparation, he got the strength to open it. The neatness of the handwriting didn't surprise him since he had always been organized in every single way. "Property of Crown Prince Rainer I of the Exspidraco Kingdom," was what was written on the first page. The next one was filled with a description of Stormi, including a drawing and what her favorite snack was. The third one was the one Augustus ripped out; a drawing of them flying with Stormi and Foggy right in front of the castle. The last one didn't have such a heartfelt meaning, but it called his attention, nonetheless. There was a blueprint and a picture of a type of rock occupying most of the paper, and, on the top left corner, the drawing of a key that he recognized.

It took him less than a second to compare the third key that was hanging around his neck with the one in the drawing. With that, he solved part of his childhood mystery; the piece of metal had clearly something to do with one of those three pictures. Something inside him was encouraging him to find the secret location, and it lit certain enthusiasm but, when he looked up to meet the emptiness of the room, it immediately wore off. The dust and sheets reminded him of his leaving, so he didn't turn back as he closed the doors behind him and shoved the notebooks into a drawer, hoping to leave the sudden cold of his absence locked inside with it.