"Richard!" he heard his mother calling him from downstairs.
He opened his eyes and glanced at the wall clock in his room. It was already past noon. With a groggy sigh, he pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked at the drawings taped to his walls. A smile crossed his face as the blanket, tangled around his legs, slipped off when he swung them over the edge of the bed.
A soft breeze, sneaking in through the slightly open window, rustled the papers on his desk and brought in the distant sounds of birds chirping. Richard stood up, stretching and yawning. His dark hair stuck up at odd angles, evidence of a deep, unplanned nap. He walked over to the full-length mirror and blinked a few times as he took in the state of his clothes. They were a bit worn, and for a moment, he wondered if his father might have noticed. He dismissed the thought, recalling their brief interactions earlier.
Richard decided to change into something fresh, knowing his mother would certainly spot the disheveled state of his attire. After tidying his hair with his hands, he heard his mother call out again. Only then did he head downstairs to the dining and kitchen area.
The warm aroma of roasted chicken filled the place, mingling with the light, earthy scent of steamed vegetables. Richard's mouth watered, and he immediately took his seat at the table. He couldn't wait for his mother to serve the roasted chicken. His stomach gurgled, and he eagerly grabbed two chicken legs with a fork and placed them on his plate. He saw his mother frown slightly.
"You haven't eaten breakfast again?" Celine asked, turning to her husband with a hurt look instead of addressing Richard directly.
Marcus could only blink and look at his empty plate. "I prepared breakfast for him this morning," he said in defense.
"Was it enough?" Celine asked him in return. Marcus remained quiet, scooping spoonfuls of rice and vegetables. He then placed some on his wife's plate and gave her the breast part of the chicken. Marcus took the leftover parts for himself.
Celine, with her hair tied up in a neat bun, reached over to brush away a small piece of meat from Richard's shirt. "Eat slowly, honey," she reminded him with a soft chuckle.
After speaking, she started eating. The soft clatter of silverware and the rhythmic creak of chairs filled the dining room. No one said anything as Richard reached for the other chicken breast. He didn't add any rice or vegetables to his plate, eating only the chicken, which was gone in just five minutes.
The whole meal ended in silence. Celine glanced at Marcus, silently urging him to speak. Richard noticed the way his parents exchanged looks, pushing each other to say something. His heart began to race, the silence pressing on him.
"Mom?" he called, unable to take it any longer. His voice cracked with anxiety.
Celine met his eyes. "You know the election is coming up," she began, referring to the election for the next Dominion President.
Richard nodded, his heart rate slowing as he started to calm down.
"Well, we won't be able to stay with you for the whole month. Your dad and I will be in Permonium most days," Celine explained. "So, we decided to send you to a summer camp."
Richard's eyes reddened, and panic welled up inside him.
Seeing this, Celine's eyes also reddened, and she embraced him. "Isn't that what you wanted last summer?"
"No! I don't want to!" Richard sobbed even harder. Going to summer camp would be a disaster for him and his Nest. He couldn't do it. If it were at another time, he would have been excited and would have packed his things himself.
"I'll just stay here and wait for you to come back, Mom!" Richard cried into his mother's chest.
"That's not possible, honey. We might be in Permonium for days, maybe even weeks," Celine said, holding him tighter as she felt his pain.
"I promise I'll be good. I'm twelve now, and I know how to prepare milk and cereal!" he protested.
Celine wanted to laugh at her son's logic, but instead, she felt even more pity for him. Marcus, meanwhile, tidied up the table, knowing it might take a while before mother and son reached an agreement. He had already finished washing the dishes, but their conversation still continued. He could only pat Celine's shoulder and kiss her head as he said goodbye. Richard noticed his father leaving, likely heading to Permonium.
"Mom," he said. "What if we hire a nanny? She could prepare my meals."
Celine was silent for a moment. Richard pulled back from her embrace and saw her pondering for more than a minute before she finally answered, "No. We have valuable things in the house."
Richard knew she was referring to the Agassi Machine, their family's greatest secret. He had to keep silent about it for his entire life. Understanding his mother's concern, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I don't want to go to summer camp, Mom," Richard insisted.
Celine took a deep breath and looked at him, seeing how serious he was. She smiled softly. "Okay. I'll get a condo in the city and hire a nanny for you."
"I don't—"
"It's final, Richard. It's either that or summer camp," his mother said firmly. Richard knew there would be no bargaining with her.
Richard looked down, silent. All his hopes felt crushed at that moment. Tears fell to the floor again as he felt powerless and disappointed. The dining room remained quiet for an hour. Celine could only stroke his back, waiting for him to compose himself.
"I'll go to my room, Mom," he said as he stood up. Celine nodded, kissed his forehead, and walked him to his room.
"I'll be back before dinner, honey," she said with a smile.
Richard nodded and closed his door. He leaned against it, sighing deeply as he heard his mother's footsteps fade away. For thirty minutes, he stayed there, unmoving. Then he went out, checking the house to make sure his mother was truly gone. Once he confirmed she was at Permonium, he logged into Permonium himself.
Opening his eyes, Richard found himself in a room that was both unfamiliar and yet somehow known to him. The walls were meticulously adorned with polished metal sconces holding flickering candles, and the subtle fragrance of cedar and aged wood filled his nostrils. Richard approached the long central table, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The once plain table had been replaced with a carved masterpiece made of dark oak, inlaid with silver and onyx. The legs were sculpted into intertwined dragons, their eyes set with small, glistening sapphires. He caressed the table's smooth surface before pulling out a chair. Though it was heavy, he managed to move it. The chair had a high back, carved with the symbol of The Scythe and Wheat Sheaf. He marveled at the intricate detail before moving to another chair, which bore the symbol of The Hammer and Anvil. His curiosity piqued, Richard looked at the other chairs and noticed additional unique emblems: The Dragon Crest, The Shield and Sword, The Twin Serpents, The Healing Hand, and The Needle and Thread.
Richard gazed up at the soaring ceiling, his eyes lighting up as he took in the fully embellished wooden beams painted in deep, jewel-toned hues. The carved motifs of dragons, eagles, and clouds seemed almost alive, with golden details that reflected the light and added an ethereal glow to the designs above. He longed to fly up and touch the carvings, but even if he could, he knew he would refrain from disturbing such a masterpiece.
He shifted his focus to the narrow stained-glass windows, which gleamed brilliantly as sunlight streamed through them, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across his face. Each pane was reinforced with gold tracery, enhancing the scenes of legendary battles, heroic figures, and mythical creatures that seemed to come alive with the shifting daylight.
Turning, Richard noticed a woman sitting on the throne. A shiver ran down his spine as her smile caught him off guard. The intricate carving of the coiled dragon on the throne's high back, accented with gold and emerald, highlighted her red dress that flowed down to the polished floor. Her arms rested on the armrests entwined with vines adorned with tiny inlaid gemstones. The woman smiled at him and rose, leaving behind the rich crimson velvet cushion bordered with gold embroidery.
"Welcome back, Master," she greeted, bowing to Richard. He returned her smile and gently told her to stand straight.
Richard's attention then turned to the grand tapestry behind the Fay Queen. Now complete, it showcased a fierce battle between beasts and Fays with an unparalleled depth of color and texture. The woman holding a silver sword at the center appeared almost lifelike, her eyes radiating power, with threads of gold and silver glistening in the light. The banners were pristine, their deep red and gold hues bold and striking, bearing the Nest's sigil of two entwined dragons encircling a star.
The changes had been immense since the last time he was here. Sixteen days was a long time to miss the transformations in the Nest. "How are you, Vara?" he asked.
"I'm happy to see you, Master," the Fay Queen replied, her voice filled with excitement. "Everyone misses you, especially Zalis," she added.
"This place is beautiful," Richard commented, amazement evident in his voice. His eyes wandered around the Throne Room, unable to fully take in the grandness and intricate designs of the space.
"Zalis took his time finishing the Castle. He finally satisfied himself yesterday," Vara said.
Richard nodded. "How's Moirai?" he inquired.
"It's safe behind the walls," Vara answered.
Richard smiled at her and didn't inquire further. He said his goodbye and proceeded out of the Throne Room.
Then, he was greeted by a spacious corridor with high ceilings. The windows, framed with heavy drapes in rich jewel tones, flooded the hall with sunlight. His footsteps glided across the polished basalt tiles. As he walked, Richard admired the subtle murals depicting scenes of nature—cascading waterfalls leading to high mountains, meadows flowing through forests, snowy mountain caps transitioning into a winter wonderland, followed by a land of volcanoes, and lakes and rivers winding through the land to the sea. It felt as though he was embarking on a journey. The warm light from the sconces cast a soft, golden glow, helping Richard see the intricate details of the mural. The sconces, shaped like vines and leaves that seemed to grow directly out of the stone, blended seamlessly with the murals.
As Richard continued through the corridor, he passed by five rooms, which he guessed were guest rooms. The doorways were arched, framed with dark oak, and accented with filigree made of brass and mithril. He opened one of the doors and examined the handle and fixtures, marveling at the intricate motifs of ancient crests and sigils. The handle felt cool to the touch and shone as if newly polished. He took a brief peek inside the room and was amazed by its spaciousness, clearly designed to offer luxury and comfort.
Closing the door, he continued to the end of the corridor and was greeted by the grand foyer. The first thing that caught his attention was the chandelier, composed of hundreds of crystal shards that captured and refracted the light, creating a dazzling display reminiscent of starlight. The sweeping staircase, made of dark mahogany with a banister wrought from iron and gilded accents, ascended to the upper floors, its steps flanked by potted plants. The landing halfway up the stairs featured a painting of a majestic dragon. The walls of the grand foyer were adorned with large, arched windows that reached nearly to the ceiling. These windows were fitted with panes of colored glass depicting scenes of nature—majestic mountains, glistening lakes, and enchanted groves.
The floor space was ample for gatherings, accommodating dozens of visitors. Stone columns, carved with spiraling motifs of vines and winged creatures, supported the ceiling. The floor displayed an intricate pattern of marble inlay, with swirling designs of silver and obsidian that converged at the center to form the crest of the Fay Master: a majestic tree with runic carvings at its core. The shield backdrop was split diagonally, one half depicting a starry night sky and the other a soft dawn. On either side stood ethereal Fay figures, subtly integrated into the background. Ornate vine-like filigree adorned the shield, and above it was a crown crafted from elemental motifs: flames, water droplets, leaves, and stone shards. A banner below bore the motto: "Guided by Wisdom, Strengthened by Unity."
Everything now appeared perfect and Richard loved every detail of it.