Traitor

Chapter 5

He was a stuttering mess.

Luke was quite literally incapable of speech, mouth agape as he stared at the man he spent hours reading about, admiring his work, striving to be like him. Now here he was.

Mallie cleared her throat, but nothing could pull Luke out of his strange trance. The famous author had lines permanently etched onto his face, many of them seemingly being frown lines. His hairline was far back, although he looked no older than fifty. Salt and pepper hair stuck in awkward directions. His blouse with the ruffled neck looked worn and slightly dirty. The trousers he wore had more wrinkles than his face, which was quite a feat. His dark brown eyes darted around the room, looking quite overwhelmed and annoyed. Overall, this man was a mess. But he still had that strange feeling of authority.

The man sighed. "Alright, I see at least one of you two scoundrels knows a famous person when they see him," he stated in a nasally voice. A voice that can get very annoying in a short period of time.

"Um... Yeah. So, you're here to answer my questions?" Gareth ran a calloused hand through his very little hair.

"I'm not simply just an answering machine, little girl," he sighed.

"That's not what an answering machine is, really-" Mallie started, but Peters held up a hand.

"I don't want to be corrected by a piece of scum like you! Let's make this quick, please," he screeched, and Mallie fell silent. He rolled his wrist, signaling her to start with her first question. Just as she was about to open her mouth, Luke decided to pipe up.

"Mr. Dickens- I mean Peters- Mister whoever you are! I'm such a fan! Not only your fiction, but the Ancient Texts are in such deep detail, it feels like I'm at every annual meeting with the High Morphs! Even though you don't personally write anymore, it's just as grand as before! Oh, you'll never know how much your books have shaped my life... I aspire to be a great author like you! Never as good, though, but nonetheless a good author!" He squealed, beaming at the older man. Everyone was silenced for a moment, and Peters blinked a few times.

"Well, thank you, dear fan of mine! I see you're enthusiastic of all my literature... Just a question, but what do you find most desirable about my writing?" Gareth asked, giving Luke a slight smile. Was this man just out fishing for compliments?

"Oh, no contest, sir! Obviously all the detail! Not too much, yet not too little... Perfect balance, I must say myself!" As the two rambled on about how perfect Gareth was for a few more minutes, Mallie thought of all the questions she planned to ask. She didn't want this man to stay for much longer, since he was getting to be quite a nuisance, so she listed them in her head from most to least important. It was five minutes before she heard a satisfied sigh from Gareth and silence.

"Do I have permission to ask questions now, sir?" Mallie questioned in an annoyed tone. Peters grumbled something under his breath, then gave her a curt nod. Before she talked, he sat down in between her and Luke uninvited.

"Okay then... So what was this 'prophecy' you spoke of?" She asked, hoping to get a straightforward answer. Yet of course, she couldn't expect that of a man like Gareth.

"Ah, the Prophecy of the Future! How did you not know, my filthy fiend? Too clueless to care?" Mallie gritted her teeth.

"How about I came here today and I can't read your books?" The man scratched his chin.

"Hm, I suppose. But that's no excuse! This prophecy is about you, at least I assume it is. I guess that's a reason why you should know..." He muttered, still rubbing his chin.

"I personally think it's a completely valid reason to know! Can you recite it?" She pleaded. It would be nice to know her own fate. But there was part of her that was screaming, 'you don't want to hear it!' But she had to know.