The Outsiders

The Outsiders: Chapter Thirteen

Khristopher De Caldwick

Though I knew I needed to return, the dread of facing my people ensued.

Leaving behind my inheritance, my name, my untold, tittering truths, I left Caldwick with one notion in mind: I was more than delicate. Ensuring confusion and contempt, only the lies and my untimely trust for those who I deemed fit could crumble the foundations of my being. Maybe they didn't lie, maybe they didn't know, yet the only concept of trust I knew, sodden in a haze of misguiding misjudgment.

Even if I dreaded seeing their blasphemous beady red eyes and snowy hair, there was more than just my childhood at stake. Uncle Allard and my father weren't civil as it seemed when he kidnapped me. I never knew the strange man, but the look he gave me as he spoke of his brother reeked remorse and a sickly taste for vengeance. I needed answers. I needed to retrieve Soum's soul. I needed to prove my worth to my father. If my destiny was unclear, then I would create my purpose: one that involved more than just myself.

Bitter and pungent like a poisoned blade, the thoughts that swiveled in my conscious left a tart taste in my mouth.

Holding Soum right to my chest, we lay on our bed, nestling into our sultry warmth. Though it was merely sundown, we took an early night. Relaxing our stifled minds, we could only hold each other as time ticked by.

I knew there was something off about him. Whether it was his small frown or the inklings of thought that spread through his honey eyes, Soum sat stiffer than before, lost in his mind. He knew he could tell me anything, as our trust was merely days old. I knew just a sliver about him, as did he. Never had I implored to read one's thoughts or understand their unspoken words more than I did, staring at Soum's pondering eyes.

             Sighing, I nestled into his collarbone, shutting my eyes. Sleep swayed me into a still of tranquility as I laid weightlessly. Though profound with darkness, slumber brought ease my wind when it could only grow panicked and persuaded itself with ideas even the unknowable deemed idiotic. Conceived with remorse, worry, or vexation, the notions that lingered in my head were lulled with blissful slumber.

            I had never experienced a dream. Something so dear, so mortal, I assumed my body hadn't the capacity to create vivid visions of the world or other worlds. Like a dream in itself, the thought of dreams sent the smallest of warmth down my spine. Though the blackness of my eyelids was the pinochle of an astounding view, my mind could only tire itself with the wonder of dreams.

            A shift from under me sent my senses surging acutely. Snapping my eyes open, I stared into the deep abyss of the blackened room. Midnight had fallen over our small house, deepening the shadows and washing the dim highlights in a pale blue sheen. Shifting myself, I caught the sight of Soum. With tired eyes, he only stared at me with a sorry smile. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes of grogginess.

            "Sorry, I was trying not to wake you up."

            Gingerly smiling, Soum held me loosely around my waist as he picked at a certain pocketknife I knew to be his sister's. Caressing my sides with his tired fingers, he stared into my eyes. Full of tiredness and pain, his honey eyes hid just about none of his thoughts. Swimming in his mercy, he stared at me with longing, with reverential desire. As light as his eyes were, a profound sorrow tainted the allure of his eyes. Taking his hands from my waist to my hands, I looked into his poignant eyes.