We sat in silence the whole way. I think he was waiting for me to say something, but I was to deep in thought to start some small talk. Something about this whole situation rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's that my best friend is no where to be seen? Or that I was being abducted? Was I? Should I have this many questions, or am I an idiot? What do people mean when they say "Knock it off"? How does that bear meaning in any way to the situation?
"Not very conversational, are we?"
"Well, in fairness, I don't know you."
I didn't miss his attempt to hide the moment of worry in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up with a chuckle. "Of course you know me! Remember, I'm the new principal?"
By this point, I had it figured out.
"You made 2 mistakes. One, you did something to my mother and tried to hide it. She told me to buy lunch, but I have no money in my account, then let me climb in a car with you, without you even showing proof.. She's my own mother, I know her best, didn't you realize I'd know if something was up? Then, you decided to fake the accent. See, polish people have dark blonde or brown hair. Yet yours is corn-blonde. Even so, you speak with a fake polish accent. I'm not an idiot."
I raised my head to meet his eyes, which had suddenly shifted to blood red. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to tick off the child abductor. It was clear now that this was no school principal. I pretended to not notice the change in eye color, and decided to look put the window instead. In terms of escape or fighting, my chances were slim. I saw the path leading to the school up ahead. We were getting close now, although I can't imagine why he would take me there.
As expected, we passed right on by, and instead swerved onto a dirt road. I glanced at his face, and now noticed several Scars running the length of his cheek that I hadn't picked up on before. His eyes were no longer red, and were now a calm blue.
Blue? I could've sworn his eyes were green when I saw them first. But I suppose I shouldn't be expecting anything normal about this guy. I can't shake the feeling that he is related to Gau's disappearance.
The forest around the road was so thick, that even if there were houses out here, they would be impossible to see. I wonder if that was intentional...
A large roof was now visible through the thicket, and it slowly merged with the rest of the mansion as the border of the woods extended outward.
The mansion was a cherry wood color, with Victorian era design. The entrance was a large double door, complete with golden trim. The windows were all clouded, as if to assure you wouldn't be able to see out. Or in.
There was an obvious lack of inhabitants. The lights were all off. There were no cars in the drive, nor were there people tending the massive and lush gardens.
A flash of movement caught my eye, and I jerked my head towards the uppermost windows in time to see the curtains close.
The man abruptly stopped the car, hopped out of his seat, and came around to open the door for me. I stepped out into the cool air, enjoying the sudden change in temperature. The car was sweltering hot, and despite my request, the "Principal" refused to turn off the heater.
As much as I didn't want to, I grudgingly followed the man up to the gigantic doors, were knockers in the shape of a dogs head were now visible. I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't go along with what he was instructing.
He gripped a knocker, and with a strength so overwhelming that he could win a match against Roman Reigns, he slammed it into the polished wood.
It was miraculous. The mansion appeared to grow a little bit lighter, the sky, less cloudy, air, a little warmer. The lights of the mansion snapped on, and I could suddenly hear the bustle of people around me. I whipped around, acknowledging the plethora of faces that the garden now possessed.
The man opened the door, and gestured for me to enter the hall. I obliged, and, still terrified, walked into a building so large, it might swallow me whole.
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We stepped into a fine dining room, with paintings and decorations so old that they might disintegrate with a mere sneeze.
The man took a seat, and swung his hand, telling me to do the same. For several minutes, that was all. We did not talk, or make introductions, or even start small talk. Simply silence.
"You must be terrified," the man said, no longer pretending to be polish, "I know I would be at your age. A giant house. A strange knock. A man claiming to be something he clearly is not."
I gulped, and nodded, too petrified to speak. What is going on?
"Yes, I suppose you are. Marla, dear, could you please bring me two cups of black coffee?"
I hadn't even noticed, but now that he mentioned it, I could see several maids and housekeepers bustling about, with trays and coolers. I was afraid to ask what was in them.
A few minutes later, a maid returned with a large pot of coffee, several Styrofoam cups, milk, and sugar packets. She set them on the table, and proceeded to scurry away.
"Alright, I suppose we should get down to it, shouldn't we?" He said, pouring a cup of steaming black liquid. "As you know, I am in no way your new principal. I am, in fact, your uncle Johan."
That didn't add up. "Sir, my family has always been poor. How could you be related to us, and own such a spectacular piece of property?"
"Yes, yes, we will get to that in s minute. We have a more pressing matter at hand. The fate of two young children, your friends."
I fought the urge to explode on his face. This man knew about my situation. In how many ways was he involved.
"Si- I mean, Uncle, what exactly do you mean by that?" I instead responded.
He looked puzzled. "Why, of course I'm referring to the use of your Bacae. We will have to organize a troop of..." He trailed off, noticing my confused expression.
Bacae? What is that? The girl, whatever her name was, had mentioned that before. That I should know all about this. "I'm afraid I haven't been clued in, Uncle, what exactly is a Bacae?"
"The fate of your world."
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