Love of a Raven

Chapter 5: Demonic Ways

"Garrick? Are you listening to me?" Father's voice calls me, pulling me from my train of thoughts.

"Er, yes. Uh, actually no. I beg your pardon, Father. I was lost in thought. I'm sorry. What did you say?" I apologize and return my gaze back to him.

"I asked you what you were about to say. You didn't finished your sentence." Father answers, giving me a questioning look. Oh hell, he knows something is bothering me. Am I really that easy to read?

"Are you sure everything is alright with you? Do you feel a little under the weather?" Father questions as he continues to stare intently into my eyes.

"No, I'm fine, Father. Nothing to worry about." I assure, rising up from my mattress. Fortunately, I didn't felt any migraines nor a sudden wave of dizziness to prove my earlier statement wrong. Even if I was feeling ill, I would lie about it because I frankly don't want to burden my parents over my health.

"If you say so, Garrick." Father mumbles and takes a deep inhale before he resumes in a much louder voice. "Your mother and I noticed how distant you've been the past week but we're not entirely sure why."

"Father, I can explain." I start, knowing that I can't hide anything from them once they start to interrogate me.

Except, Father lifts his hand up to silence me and spoke before I could manage to begin my explanation. "It's alright, lad. We figured it has to do with you being isolated from the world with only us as company."

"And. . .?" I drone, waiting to hear the rest of it. I'm certain they did something because the last time they talked to me about my lack of companions, resulted in me having Acantha as my play mate for a couple of decades.

"And you'll hear the rest of it when you're properly dressed. Meet me downstairs in the living room once you're presentable." Father finishes and leaves my room.

I wonder what they're up to? I thought to myself as I head to my closet and began changing into my usual attire. Once I'm done and as my father states, "presentable," I walk downstairs to the living room.

Though, when I arrived there, I notice someone I didn't recognize standing there as if he was waiting for somebody. A boy around my age, perhaps a bit older by the looks of it, with short black hair, hazel green eyes and his skin has a light tan to it. However, there was something about him that didn't feel right. Like, I couldn't trust this person even if I was on my deathbed.

"Are you just going to stand there and admire my beautiful face or you going to be a good boy and introduce yourself?" The boy speaks in an arrogant voice, interrupting my train of thought.

"Huh?" I blurt out, astonished by his tone.

"You don't understand English? How unfortunate. What about, ¿español? ¿Me entiendes ahora?" He remarks.

"No! I understand English just fine, thank you!" I state angrily. He's driving my nerves and I don't even know who is! Does he not realize he is in my house?!

"Oh, excellent! My Spanish is a bit rough since I last visited Spain in 711." He explains.

"711?! You. . . Were you. . .?!" I struggle to form a question. He couldn't have possibly been alive for that long.

"No, I wasn't born during that year. I came to being a few millennia ago. Give or take. Though I did witness the Moors invade Spain which is where I learn how to speak Spanish." The boy replies my unspoken curiosity.

"Right. . . I don't mean to sound rude, but who are you and why are you here in my house?" I demand.

"You don't know who I am?!" He shouts.