The Endowment of the Red-Eyed Demon

Chapter 2

My life before that manor was wonderful. Full of extravagance and wealth. I always wanted to be free to be my own man, no matter how everyone else felt about it. Everyone knew I wasn't my father, or my brothers. With my uncle gone, I thought I might be free to be my own. I finally wasn't my uncle. Just myself, able to build a legacy of my own.

Unlike my brothers, who had followed my father into law, I followed the artistic career I had always desired. I was quite good at it, too. I would paint for anyone who would care to sit for a portrait. I was quite successful in my venture, I had people from all over the city coming into my studio. During my time as an artist, I met many people, enough to keep my name circulating among circles of gossip.

Still, gossip could only last so long. Eventually, they stopped discussing my once romantic career. Instead it was a drain of resources and time and was beneath me. No one cared about Huxley Thornton any longer. Even I didn't.

London had turned on me painfully and agonizingly slowly. In time, the gossip of the city realized that I was no longer an interesting topic to discuss. The wealthy women I had once danced with at galas stopped offering me their hands. They no longer wanted to dance with me, or even talk to me. No one wanted to look my way in time.

Their distaste wasn't obvious to me. No one called me names, I wasn't a drunk, or a buffoon who would lose the family fortune. I was just Huxley, a name spoken with more venom each time it was said.

Fate still called my name, in the same venomous tone that everyone else did. It called me in the form of my mother. I was her youngest son, and she had always been more concerned with my wellbeing than I had cared for. That's why, to my dismay, I had returned to her home when the illness came.

She told me that she was sick, and she knew that death would soon be coming for her if she did not leave the city. I asked her what she wanted me to do, I wasn't a doctor. She told me that she only wished to return to her home, the place she had grown up. I, with much urging from her and my brothers, reluctantly complied.

Though, I'll admit that I do hold much regret for my decision. It was purely selfish. It was, in my eyes, the only way that I could ever escape my own misery. I felt no grief for my mother. I only felt grief for my own life, and the manor was an unwelcome relief.

It was an unusually cold September day when we left. A chill had been set off in my bones that would seemingly never go away. The sky hung heavy with grey smoke that day, but it had been grey for as long as I could remember. I hadn't been to the mansion since I was a young boy and I longed to see the clear blue sky of the countryside.

That cold Friday, my brothers came to see my poor mother off. They were dressed in their fine clothes; they exuded their wealth with each step. They looked the fools, though, and I did not. Only one more reason to pity them instead of me, I figured.

They told my mother that they would pray for us each night; they knew we'd need blessings if we were to ever get through this terrible disease.

"Are you sure we should leave?" She asked my brothers, "Perhaps we could stay in the city. I'm sure we could work things out. Find a doctor perhaps..."

"No, mother," Amos, my oldest brother said, "If you ever want to conquer this disease, staying away from the city, away from any distractions or interruptions is what's best."

"It's just that Huxley and I will be so far."

"It's for the best, I'm sure." Amos insisted.

"You'll only be gone for a few weeks. Before spring, all will be well. This ghastly disease will be gone and you and Huxley will be able to return."

I chuckled at that. I saw no reason to be so hopeful. But they worked in law; they had to be hopeful, or their client would never be spared a ghastly fate. I was an artist, a realist.

Amos sighed, "Come, mother. We should make sure everything is packed. You should leave soon, it's a long journey you have to make."

Amos ushered my mother away, leaving me alone with my other brother, Julius. He looked at me with a face of disgust, one I had seen far more times than I cared to count.

"You'll take care of her?" Julius asked me, "You'll watch over her, just as she's watched over you for so long?"

"Say, do you think the sky will be blue in the countryside?" Was my answer.

"That's not what I asked, Huxley," Julius sneered, "You will take care of our mother, won't you?"

"Perhaps Violetta will come visit me once I'm under that blue sky."

"Don't make me repeat myself again, just answer the question."

"What was it again? What was your question?"

"You'll take care of our mother while you're away?"

"Yes, of course. I'll have little else to do."

"Maybe that's for the better. Time to do nothing is time that you can take to sort out that head of yours. All of your silly thoughts, maybe they'll finally be cleared from your head."

I could tell that Julius didn't want me to go with her. I was sure that he'd rather have anyone else go. But he had a commitment to his work and his wife and his children; a commitment that I didn't have.

Besides, his displeasure only made me want to go even more.

So, that cold September morning, we set off to Skhizein Hall. The cobblestone streets clicked underneath our carriage, and I watched as my brothers waved goodbye to us. They looked grim, their faces as grey and hopeless as the sky above. Their souls weighed heavy that day, I'm sure. Still, my conscience felt light, and for the first time in what had seemed to be so long, I was nearly in good spirits.