The Tale Of The Siren (Slow Updates On Weekends) Rough Draft

15 - Abijam's Dilemma

"Hurry up, you brute!" Henry shrieked at the coachman.

The sudden piercing yell forced Abijam to jolt. His eyes met Wilbur's, who cowered in his seat. James, Henry's right-hand man, sat with the coachman, hunched over.

Abijam felt pressure on his leg. The realization struck him as he glanced at his father's hand on his thigh. Abijam patted his hand, reassuring Ambudhi. He began to wonder if they were on track.

"Are you deaf? I said, 'Hurry up!'" Henry repeated.

"What's the rush? You could be a little polite," stated Wilbur.

Henry glared at his companion. An awkward silence entered the carriage. A subtle undercurrent of betrayal began to weave its pathway through their interactions like a silent serpent slithering through the shadows. Whispers of deception crept into Abijam's consciousness. The uncertainty of Arieshell's safety filled his senses as they chewed away at him. The only hope he had in his gut was that Arieshell had been aware of Henry's fiery attitude.

The coachman quickened the horses' pace as they passed fellow citizens. Abijam's heart danced in his chest as he clenched the edges of the velvet seat. The speed of the wheels grew energetic as a cool breeze slammed against the men's faces.

Refreshing. Abijam thought while his body swayed back and forth, colliding against the carriage's door. The clatter of hooves created a chaotic symphony, echoing the pulse of the frantic journey. Miniature dust clouds began to form under the wheels and cobblestone streets.

"Where are we going?" Abijam questioned.

"Spring Grove Asylum," Henry responded with a fiery, intense anger that was palpable in every word he spoke.

Abijam's throat tightened. His mind went rapidly. What have we gotten ourselves into? Henry's aggressive and egocentric perspective sent chills down Abijam's spine. Without his companions' reactions and gestures, Abijam and his father would never have expected the underlying threat in Henry's presence.

He reached out to his sister, but a faint voice urged him to keep their Siren lineage hidden from Henry. Abijam's mission shifted from finding Arieshell to safeguarding her from a deranged, aggressive, and frantic man.

The motion of the carriage came to a standstill in his mind as it made its way toward its ultimate destination: the asylum.

"Wait!" shouted Wilbur.

"Oh, what is it now, Muppet?" Henry boomed.

"Weren't we going to ensure Belle's safety?" he questioned.

Abijam watched Henry try to speak, but no sound escaped his parted lips. Then he motioned to James, who blinked once before turning to the coachman.

"Whershie Manor instead, Your Majesty?"

"Precisely, my good man."

The driver skillfully guided the horses to inaugurate a turn. The lead horse pivoted on its hind legs in a graceful arc, responding to the slightest touch. As the carriage began its elegant pivot, the wheels creaked and the wooden spokes groaned under the strain. Under the coachman's commands, the well-trained horses moved in synchronized harmony. The polished wooden carriage shifted as the horses completed the turn, momentarily catching the eye of onlookers before disappearing from view. The ornate detailing and plush upholstery inside the carriage remained undisturbed, a testament to the man's expertise.

Abijam's body jerked as the carriage changed direction. His forehead throbbed with a rhythmic beating. The sensation made him taste his regurgitation, and he began to grind his teeth. Abijam squeezed his eyes, noticing the flavor was reminiscent of a bitter taste with a pronounced acidic tang.