A Remaining Podeshire 1

Chapter 1 (Part 5)

     The horse stops marching, and the wheels halt. Then, there is a loud thump on the ground. Footsteps grow louder at each pace, and the carriage door opens with the coachman on the other side.

"The Fuers' Household," the coachman announced as he opened the door.

     The household only had two floors, but one would look up because of its towering gable roof. The front lawn featured spiky, leafless maple trees, while the backyard stood next to the woods of pine trees. And the entire surrounding was eerily quiet.

"So, uh... welcome. Welcome to our house," Alexander said as he stepped off the vehicle.

"Wow..." Oliver tilted his head as he stared at the tall roof.

"Good kid. I love how you appreciate the beauty of our house since you will be living here... for... who knows how long?" Layla hopped off the carriage.

     Oliver has no will to utter a word or let a loud breath out. Everything around him becomes quiet. But, the silence breaks when the coachman slashes his whip, causing the horse to neigh and pull the noisy carriage down the street.

     With dismay reflecting in his eyes, Oliver glances left and right. His eyebrow lowers, and his lips frown. He then gathers a deep sigh before taking a glimpse of his back and gazes across the empty road.

     Layla grabs a key and unlocks their entrance. The hinges groan as Layla pushes the doorway open and enters the house. Meanwhile, Alexander stands motionlessly on the porch, staring at Oliver across the lawn.

"Hey, kid! I bet you would love to take your time looking at the outdoors!" Alexander shouted.

     Oliver looks at Alexander and hurriedly makes his way to the front door. Without any eye contact, they enter the house. As they pass through the doorway, Alex grabs Oliver by his shoulder, holding him firmly.

"H-huh? S-sir...?"

"I told you that you would love to take your time looking at the outdoors," Alexander sighed.

"It's okay. I'm okay. I... uhm... I will... go out later..."

"Oh, no. You won't. You will never step outside once again since you'll be staying inside where you do your chores... without any friends," said Alexander.

"Except for the garden in the backyard," Layla raised her voice from the kitchen.

     Oliver then glances at the shiny oak wood floor. Then, his eyes wander and glimpse at the curved wooden stairs on his right side. His glance rises, and his jaw drops after seeing a wooden chandelier as big as him.

"Hey, kid! C'mere!"

     Suddenly, Layla yells from the other room. Oliver quickly obeys and enters the kitchen, approaching Layla as he pants nervously. Upon entering the room, Layla immediately places two bowls of warm stew in Oliver's hands.

"Go on, put it on the dining table, then grab yours here," Layla gave her orders before turning around and filling another empty bowl with stew.

     Oliver carefully makes his way to the dining room. He then places the plates on the table and arranges them neatly. He returns to the kitchen, grabs his food, and returns to the dining table, taking his seat with the Fuers. Then, everyone begins feasting without looking at each other or starting a conversation.

     Meanwhile, every sidewalk has people conversing about the death of the Podeshire family. The grief of their loss fills the air of the whole region. Apprehension mixes with their sorrows—as they know having no defenders will leave them vulnerable.

     The mayor, Frederick, assembles numerous crowds outside the city hall. Then, hope lightens the place as he announces his words. His statements continue to calm his citizens as more crowds gather in the court.

"We know that we have tragically lost our Defenders. But fear not, for the youngest among the family, Oliver Podeshire, has survived the attack and lives in the adoption centre. For now, he will be the hope for our city; he is the Remaining Podeshire," Frederick stated.

     As the mayor's voice echoes across the street, a tall, middle-aged man enters the adoption centre. A black silk fabric concealing half the man's face matches the blackness of his whitening hair. His blood runs cold like snow, and its pale colour manifests on his wrinkled skin. Then, the candlelights inside the hall spark the sapphire glow in his eyes.

"...Excuse me," the man inquired at the front desk. "Does... Oliver Podeshire live in this adoption centre?"

"Oh, he lived here, sir," a female staff replied with a welcoming smile.

"'Lived'? Does that mean he is already adopted?"

"Yes, just this morning."

"By whom?"

"Let me check the files, sir..." the staff said as she grabbed a record book from the shelves and folded the pages. "...Oh, by the Fuers."

"...Can you tell me more about them?" said the man.

"The Fuers. Alexander and Layla Fuers. They adopted Oliver at eight this morning."

"Where do they live?"

"...Pardon?"

"Where does Oliver live now?"

"Oh. Forgive me, but... privacy information, including the address, must remain confidential in our records," she said as she closed the record book.

     The man clenches his fists and storms out of the adoption centre without leaving a reply. The female staff watches him leave in confusion, tilting her head and raising a brow. Marching down the steps with loud stomps, he reunites and gathers with fellow men in black suits on the sidewalk.

"He's already adopted. We must search for him. Too bad that I do not even remember his face," he stated.

"So, what now, boss?" one of the men asked.

"The Podeshires are famous. That Remaining Podeshire may show up one day, and next time, boys. Next time..."