… of the day
Breakfast -
It was a simple house, made of only a few sturdy wood pillars, some woven bamboo sheets and hay. Burke sat before a dirty and slightly crooked wooden table, with a simple wooden plate in front of him. There was only one piece of slightly moldy bread in the plate, yet he tore it to smaller pieces with a wide grin and shoved them down his throat along with a crude clay mug of porridge.
“I do miss this.” Burke said to the woman sitting across from him: “The food is, well, poor and foul. But it was simple. The plate here? I made it by myself, almost cut my finger off. Dad patched me up, while you screamed at me. I guess you found a way out. You found THE way. But the price is, what? I - do you even remember? I guess that is part of the deal, right?”
Burke put the mug down and took a quick glance at the shelf on the side. On the top level of the shelf, there was a book with a thick black cover. A somewhat out of place item, as there were only simple cookware and tools on the other levels.
“I can’t even remember his face now. It’s probably been decades. I can only say decades, because I can’t even remember how long ago that was, or what my father looked like. I guess the price of his being gone was pretty literal, huh?” Burke shook his head and paused for a moment, then cleaned the plate and mug with a click of his fingers: “Guess I wouldn’t have missed it, if I didn’t try But I’ve got YOUR curiosity, mom. I thought you’d be more proud.”
Lunch -
It was a sizable mansion, one surrounded by flowery gardens, fences and guards. The table was made of luxury wood and glass. The plates were made of fine china, and were accompanied by silverware. The food was freshly picked fruits, some smoked meat, and a large goblet of ale.
Burke sat across the long table from the woman. His left hand fingers trembled as he picked the grapes and tomatoes, due to the pain in the forearm.
“You know, I don’t have too many fond memories of this place.” Burke chewed the fresh tomatoes and let out a satisfied sigh: “And, the sad thing is, this is probably the first time I’ve actually enjoyed food in this very room. I don’t know if you felt the same, but at least to my experience, an experience you’ve been a crucial part of, nothing tastes good when the magic is rampaging in your body…”
Before he continued, he put his fingers in his mouth and pulled out a crooked, blackened tooth. “You know, they said these arts - they’re bad for you. Pretty obvious now I guess. I often wonder if this is why you have this on me.” He then pulled down his left sleeve, showing a glowing ring of arcane marks on his left forearm.
He then scoffed: “But what kind of mother puts a mark of serfdom and perpetual indebtment on their kid? It almost made the young and naive me believe you cared. But - it’s not really what it is, is it? ”
Having no response from the woman, Burke finished the plate and wiped the table clean: “Have a good - day, mother.”
Supper -
It was a stonewall castle, and the dining room was under a dome, lit up by floating gems in the air. Wooden seats covered in luxury fur, a long table made of marbles supported by ivory legs, and plates and goblets made of bones of magical beasts. The goblet on the far end was filled with glistening magical wine, and in the plate lay a piece of steak, with masterfully placed garnishes and sides.
Burke busted into the room, sending the doors onto the walls. His right hand holding his right arm, with a dark and dripping wet cloth pouch dangling from his fingers.
“Heh, hello there.” Burke threw the pouch on the table, right before the Queen of Crimson Flame. His face was pale and sweaty. He had no poise or grace at all. The priceless wine splashed all over his chest, and the steak was a bloody mess on his face when he shoved it into his mouth using his right hand.
“I did learn a lot from you.” Burke threw himself on the chair, stroking his hair using his right hand and caressed his smooth young face. “Spells are cast in language, and language is rooted in interpretation. Therefore, prices paid on my behalf, are open to my interpretation as well.”
His eyes glanced the face of the woman up and down, then shook his head: “Yeah, I know, exactly. How am I ever going to get through to your stone heart? They said the appearance will mimic the true appearance of one’s soul. And now look at you.”
The woman did not respond. For she simply could not. Her face was once covered in stone and crystalized energy. And now, that was all she was. The only indication of her presence, was the faint, flickering glow in her now translucent eyes.
“The deal was - I shall not act against you, because I am of YOUR flesh and blood, and I had been given everything by you.” Burke smiled and spoke through his teeth: “If you will, or can, that gift of mine was YOUR flesh and blood, with a mark you bestowed, much more than what I weighed when I left your body of once flesh and blood. And all this? ” He pointed at the dome with his right index finger: “... is still yours.”
The castle crumbled and caved into a mountain of lava and fire behind Burke. The wound on his left elbow burned, his entire body aged, magic was draining from his very soul. But his footsteps were steady, his laughs heartfelt, and his tears warm and salty.