The Servant Of Chaos (WIP-New Part Every Monday/Friday)

Chapter VIII | Part 3

"So..." Tyler began, "what's that stuff with your mother that Synthia mentioned?"

It was obvious that he was trying to break the ice. Thing is, in this situation the ice was more like a Reinforced Steel Plaque.

"Honestly, I'm not even sure," answered Caleb, making room for himself on a sofa opposite to Tyler's.

"Why'd you say that?"

"Remember the chest where the keys to the Quarters were in?"

"Yea," Tyler nodded.

"My father, Aloysius Silverhood, left that for me before he left and never came back. But my mother hid it from me, no matter how much she knew I longed for my father."

Tyler reassembled his body on the winde sofa, resting his head on the arm rests.

"But the box is not your father," Tyler said, "and it's not like she caused your dad to leave."

"I know, it's just... you wouldn't understand." Caleb shook his head. "My mother and I... we've had it rough since my dad left."

"But I do know," said Tyler.

"Oh, yeah?" Asked Caleb incredulously.

"You think I haven't spent nights looking at the moon through the leaves of the trees I sleep under and wondered about how my dad was like? I can barely remember his face, much less the relationship we had. Difference is, I don't have a mother to turn to, either. All I've got is myself, and I do not carry any of the explanations I desire."

Caleb leaned forward and softened his expression.

"There was a time when I seeked for someone to blame. Someone who I could tell myself caused everything I've gone through. But the truth is... there isn't such person. Not even your father, in your case. Everyone is driven by their own motivations, which everyone beliefs are good and justifiable. So why torture yourself and others who care about you by groveling about the past, instead of enjoying what you can in the present?"

Caleb had no words to say.

He was speechless, denied of any and every retort. What the sarcastic, light headed blond had said... it had struck deep.

Tyler must've seen the look of grief and confusion on Caleb's face, because he ushered to change the subject with a soothing tone.

"How does it feel?" pondered Tyler whilst laying his back completely on the sofa. Caleb, who was glancing at the candles behind him, turned his head back to the blond boy.

"Pardon me?" Answered Caleb. Tyler shook his head and sat down on the bed.

"This life." clarified Tyler, a surprised expression taking over Caleb's features. "Luxury and wealth, not worrying for what you're going to eat? It's all one big unknown wonder for me."

"Can't exactly answer you, though I know you think otherwise. A great part of today's society is what we appear, and what we dare not show. My mother, she took a moldy ship from the Caribbean Isles and wound up in Northern Maine, looking for a life that expanded further from the edges of the island she called home."

"Your mother's an immigrant? That does explain the tan," Tyler added, the usual hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Surprisingly for both the boys, instead of the accustomed glare, Caleb chuckled softly and admired the blond with contempt.

"Instead, Esperanza ended up serving the upper class in an undermining outfit, pleasing the men atop the ladder with her hard work and tough labor. That was, until she met an upper class man different from all others. Aloysius Silverhood, an explorer and researcher who had traveled across the country looking for treasure and wonder, and instead found my mother. She adopted his last name and had me. From him I got the eye–" he pointed to his left iris, "and my chance to go to the academy. After he left... my mother didn't want me to lose my shot at greatness. So she hides under my shadow, urging me never to let anyone know that she sired me. And that is the only way I, a scoundrel from the lowest kind, can stay camouflaged with those from among the ladder's top."