INTROSPECTIVE
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Well I'm waiting so patiently
I'm waiting for a sign
I'm waiting so patiently
But I'll wait for the truth
He was trouble and he knew it and he didn’t care. Otium was beyond caring now. All he cared about was the goal at the end of his life’s journey. He was only a boy but all he could focus his mind on was some grand fate for him, waiting, just there in the future beyond his sight.
What was here for him anyway? His mother had left them. His brother’s were back together and despite their personal dramas, they had one another. All he had was Immaculate. Mael was gone. He’d been gone. The worst part was that if he were dead… Otium would know. Which meant that he was just somewhere else. He’d left for his own adventure, whether of his own will or against it. Otium was alone.
Immaculate was worried about her boy, her master. She didn’t know when her view of him changed, when their roles so drastically shifted. She loved him. She would do anything for him. He needed her and she needed him. She was his servant, his ever faithful loyal companion. She tried to be his conscience but he, at some point in his growth, developed his own.
She nudged him as they sat, her broad nose pushing against the bottom of his hand for petting. Without thinking he ran his fingers in the thick fur of her head, scratched behind her ears and then down her neck. He was staring off into space, ignoring the voices and the shades as much as he could for a small bit of peace. He’d been practicing, or trying to, shielding them out. Apparently there was no way for him to block them, not in the way you would think. He actually had to order them to leave. His word was law and he did his best to make them obey and leave him in peace.
But something was nagging him. There was an itch in the back of his brain.
His ‘grandfather’ Algie kept his rooms locked up tight. When they weren’t locked, there were boxes and closets that remained shut tight. Otium knew this because he went snooping. It was partially his need to handle valuables. He wanted to know what they were and where they were and he always had a good hunch where that sort of thing was hiding. His other drive was strictly boredom. He had nothing else to do but snoop through people’s things! Algie was new here, and thus, his things must be rifled through.
On this particularly distracting afternoon, Algie was out with Hela and the feien. He said they were shopping for Christmas, but Otium knew that Christmas was just a bunch of bull. He could hear the jingling of money as a constant afterthought, like a ringing in his ear that was always there but only made you aware of it when it was a particularly quiet day. On Christmas he could hear those rings all the time. His head was a busy place. With the shades constantly just
existing and the ringing of the cash flow, not to mention his uncontrollable urge to leave, it was the least he could do to just appease
one of his many needs.
And so he found himself and his daemon staring at Algie’s door. There was a deadness around the entryway, similar to his Uncle Carmine and Tom’s rooms, but less powerful. This one he could feel through. He could tell that whatever was warding it was not thorough and only kept things from getting in.
There were things in there already, whether Algie knew it or not, and Otium wanted to know what they were.
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