Canvas of Twilight ⡇A Fallacy X Encre book.

𝟕. 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

StarPoisons.

Discombobulated, to feel confused, disoriented, or out of sorts. It's a state of mental or emotional confusion where things don't seem to make sense or fit together properly.

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With a deliberate and resonating slam, the door behind Encre closed, its weighty thud echoing through the stark white room. The confinement engulfed him, the very color of the walls seeming to press upon him. Encre had always disliked white; its simplicity held a hollow emptiness that mirrored his current unease.

Turning his attention to Suave, Encre willed himself to push past the discomfort churning in his stomach. His voice quivered slightly, "So, this is where You'll be staying. Your name is Encre, correct?" Suave's inquiry drew Encre's focus, grounding him in the moment.

Encre nodded, his acknowledgment carrying a sense of cautious acceptance. His gaze drifted around the servants' quarters that would now be his realm.

Suave moved with a practiced grace, approaching a nearby dresser. "Your clothing will be kept here. Generally, you'll be dressed in the butler's uniform, unless there's a special event." The words flowed from Suave, each sentence measured, as if they were treading upon the delicate ground of Encre's understanding.

As Suave elaborated, Encre found himself nodding again, absorbing the information as best as he could, the new reality gradually sinking in.

"Now, you must understand," Suave's tone took on a more somber cadence, "My lord isn't cruel. But if you fail to meet his expectations, the consequences could be dire." The gravity of Suave's words hung in the air, casting shadows that Encre couldn't help but feel creeping over him.

Encre took a moment to let the weight of Suave's warning seep into his consciousness, his breath escaping in an involuntary sigh. What had he gotten himself into?

Suave's movements held a certain poise as he shifted in front of Encre, his gaze meeting Encre's. "Now, everyone follows an organized schedule, although they all vary. Yours will likely be provided tomorrow, I believe." The intricacies of this new life unfolded like a delicate tapestry, each thread woven with a purpose that Encre was only beginning to discern.

As the torrent of explanations continued, Encre's gaze flickered with a trace of confusion. The waves of information surged over him, leaving him grappling to absorb it all. The transition into this new life was proving to be a labyrinthine journey, and he could only hope that time would eventually lead him to clarity.

Stressed and homesick, Encre's thoughts wandered to the faces he had left behind, his friends Azure and Orion. Were they safe? Were they managing without him? He shook his head gently, as if physically dispelling these thoughts, refocusing his attention on Suave. The butler's words were a lifeline of guidance amidst the swirling tempest of his thoughts.

Suave's explanation gradually tapered, his final words carrying a note of encouragement and reassurance. "That's all. Please, remember that if you need assistance, I'm here. And so are others. The key thing to keep in mind is that each person is chosen for a specific reason. If you weren't, then you need to put in the effort, Encre. I want you to thrive, and Jasper... he's curious about you. Consider taking the opportunity."

Encre responded with a slow nod, his gaze fixed on Suave as he processed the butler's words. "I will, and as for Jasper, perhaps with time. I'd like to acquaint myself with my surroundings first."

Suave acknowledged Encre's response with a nod of understanding. "I'll be working. If anything goes awry, just call for me." With that, Suave left the room, the quiet echo of his footsteps fading into the dim and uninviting space.

All these emotions.. The schedules.. The moment.

Overwhelmed by the new circumstances, Encre found himself hurriedly making his way to a nearby barrel – an oddly ornate one –Feeling a sudden surge of queasiness, Encre stumbled backward, his hand pressed against his mouth. The sensation overwhelmed him, and before he could react, he was bent over, retching. The contents of his (?)stomach spilled forth, his body leaned over the barrel.

As he regained a semblance of control, he looked down at the barrel before him. The substance. Unsettling deep pitch black.

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End Chapter.
703 words.

Might rewrite this, I don't feel as if it's good enough.

💌

StarPoisons