The Sight Beyond The Haze

Chapter 14: Dinner With The House's Master

Dinner was a grand affair.

As the master of this house, Mr. Tharraleos personally invited me to dine with them in the formal dinning room. Amara was the first one to tell me of the request of my presence per the house's master's request, but it was rather odd not to be invited herself to that. She brought me one of the Baroque dress of Miss Eris' which I adamantly refused to wear.

"You're really going to insult Miss Eris?" Amara swore at me, there was the same harshness of her angular face. Her jaw was clenched and her lips were pursed tightly. "She sent this to you and she accommodated you in the best possible way. Give me some face will you?" she told me frustratedly.

"You have a face," I retored seriously, "it's not my job to give you one."

"YOU—!" Amara yelled and pointed at me, bur she abruptly stopped herself from going further. "Why?" she demanded loudy. "Why do you have to be as stubborn as your goddamn father? God bless my soul if I were to live with you. You see now why I don't want you around?"

I just nodded as an answer.

My plain answer only made Amara's face a shade of red darker, infuriating her further. She pointed at the duffle bag that was sprawled on the floor, my clothes were laid out everywhere when I attempted to find any clean clothes.

"And what is this?" Amara asked me while I tried to hide the clothes back in the duffle bag using my feet. "Are you in a funeral?" she asked incredulously. "There are only two colors here. Black and white! Have some color in your life, will you?"

I frowned, a white shirt hanging on my shoulder and another on my hands.

"But did you not just said that it was good to be more simple and plain?" I asked her and folded the clothes neatly. I slowly picked up more clothes and started to fold them carefully. "Didn't you said it was more dignified that way?"

A look of confusion crossed Amara's face. There was the feeling alienation, as though she did not know what I was talking about ir that she have no idea. Now that I thought of it, Amara would never say anything remotely to being plain, simple, and dignified. Not that I was calling Amara as a person that was not dignified, but she was not best known for that either.

Who told me that thing?

I was thinking about that when Amara spoke again; the befuddlement that crossed her earlier has faded into nothingness. It was replaced by that exasperated expression about me.

"Get dressed!" she ordered me.

I looked at her and noticed that her eyes were unfocused. I stood from where I was sitting on top of the bed, folding my clothes neatly. With careful steps, I walked towards her. Amara seemed unbalanced, her posture has slouched to a pose I never imagined she would take and she was swaying from left to right.

"Amara?" I inquired at her, I was uncertain what happened to her so out of blue. "Is everything well?"

The cloth that I was folding was forgotten, I absentmindedly laid it out on the bed so I could hold out a hand to help her stay on her feet. The next thing that happened was too rapid for me to process. With a snarl directed at me, Amara jumped to me in a flash of the light, her hands were outstretched to my neck and they were closing on it.

My eyes were wide with shock at the sudden movement. The first thing I did was to gripped her hands that was trying to strangle my neck, I wanted to tear them away from me. But Amara was not a very strong woman, she was even slender than me. It didn't take me a few seconds before I sidestepped her, taking her arms to hold behind her, and secured her body on the soft bed.

Then the next thing I did was almost out of habit; I didn't even thought of anything but calling on them. The butterflies that were concealing themselves in the unnoticeable crooks of the whole room I was staying at flew out of their hiding places. They silently landed at Amara's bare back. In a trice, Amara couldn't move any longer. She collapsed atop the bed, but she was still using her voice. She snarled and she yelped at me with indistinguishable and gibberish words though she could not move any longer with the weight butterflies on her back.

"Amara," I panted and dumbfoundedly stared at my mother's form. "Amara?" I repeated uncertainly.

I was still staring at her with the same dumbfounded feeling. What brought forth this vicious side of hers that promptly attacked me? I never said anything that might have provoked her, didn't I?

But even how many times I called her to attention, she would just snarl at me.

I called forth the third and last butterfly to my hand and whispered to it, "Bring them to me."

I walked by to window and opened it, letting the perched butterfly took off to the space outside the house. There was a lingering glitter from the path in the air that the butterfly flew by. I looked back at Amara that was still being held down by the other two butterflies, but, without even my instructions, one of those two butterflies flew towards me. It seemed agitated and anxious, the glimmer of it coming into beats.

I caught it with one hand asking in a concerned tone, "What is it?"

Its glow continued on coming in beats then it abruptly flew off towards the closed doors as if it wanted to inform me something. I quickly went towards it and realized there were footsteps sounding sharp against the floor. Someone was coming, what a happenstance it was.

I motioned for the other butterfly that was the only one left on the duty of pushing Amara down and restraining her from doing any dangerous things such as strangling my neck. She was still yelling gibberish words at me and I burrowed my brows together as I anticipated Amara's violent assault towards me. However, the footsteps from the hallway were getting louder and louder as it neared the room I was staying at. With each passing second, Amara's voice and gibberish words also became louder.

With last one flick of my hand towards the opened window, the butterflies that turned more agitated, their glows were practically a dysfunctional light bulb, took off after the first one. When I finally saw that the butterflies were safely away from view, their glimmers were no more in the horizon, I braced myself with Amara's hands trying to reach for my head.

I was a good feet taller than her— I have always been taller than most people, not frighteningly so that I would be called a titan or even a giant, but enough to tower over them when I was mad. With Amara though, she was still my mother and I could not possibly just push her out of the way.

And so, I endured how Amara scratched and tried to inflict any possible harm. At one point, just the fraction of a second, I thought of unleashing that mudtrap I sealed earlier.

Then I thought against it when I really put my mind into thinking about it. Who knows what damage it would cause? Considering the overall mansion and grandiosity of it, I'd say that even if I would beg for scraps for the entirety of my life or even until my next life; I would never pay off this kind of property if I wreak it with a havoc.

Until the door burst open and someone came in. Amara was immediately apprehended before she can make another move. It was a clean and precise maneuver, almost like that of a master. I turned to see whoever it was— not exactly my savior— that came to the rescue to apprehend Amara.

Mr. Tharraleos calmly hit Amara on different points of her body. Instantaneously, her head fell back and her unconsciousness disappeared. The pupils of her eyes rolled upwards, the body that was still thrashing earlier was now limp on Mr. Tharraleos' arms.

Our eyes locked with that.

Mine were filled incredulity, shock, and confusion. Incredulity that I cannot believe that Amara would attack me or even turned into a thing that loses all her inhibitions and mind. There was that shock that the otherwise perfectly normal visit would be filled with these kinds of happenings; first was Zachriel following me, then there was that creature, and now, this— Amara being a hysterical upon hearing my voice.

What was the thing that triggered her though? It was the clothes. Such simple things could pull the trigger on our minds. Aside from that, what was up with clothes and why did Amara went hysterical when she brought them up by accident.

It was never answered though.

Mr. Tharraleos only renewed her grip on Amara's limp body that was still being supported by him.

On his eyes were some of the things that I could not quite understand nor decipher. Coldness enveloped his expression like a tall barrier between his inner self and the world from the outside of his, but if a person was to ask me what it was; I would say that the coldness he exhibited was fake and overdone.

It was as though he was trying too hard to show that he does not care, but he did and it showed. I was about to ask him about what happened, when he spoke first.

"Dinner is at the blue dining hall," he said emotionlessly, he proceeded on carrying Amara out of my room's door.

"Amara is not high," I stated, certain that drugs were not part of the equation that needed to be solved. "Right?" I added as an afterthought, making certain he agreed.

He never did though.

"Where are you taking my mother, Mr. Tharraleos?" I asked yet again, but just as he did with my first question, he completely ignored it.

Mr. Tharraleos only stared at me not even for a second until he truly walked out of the room Eris made those servants and maids to prepare for me. I wanted to ask a stream of question, but I kept silent. Outside my opened window, the sun was already setting in a beautiful shocks of shade of orange and yellow.

So there was an oddity even on Amara, otherwise she would not be reacting like that.

No sane person would react towards black and white clothes as easy as Amara did, and if there were any, then they probably would not be as violent. I just knew that I triggered a thing within Amara's subconsciousness that made her snap at me that extreme.

I donned a white dress for the upcoming dinner. I discarded the old-fashioned dress that Miss Eris sent to me, thinking I could not possibly wear it and still have shame. The dress that I donned was a decent piece of clothing, though I do not think that it was the appropriate attire for a formal occasion such as what Miss Eris and Mr. Tharraleos planned.

In my opinion, it was not even appropriate to push through as planned.

I heaved a deep sigh, refreshing my lungs with another bout of energy.

The window of my room was still open, but there was not even a single glitter of those butterflies anywhere near the area. Night has truly fallen, and without the warmth and the light they provided me for the past week, I found it difficult to assure myself that the things I just witnessed were fine... or that those will eventually be fine.

Meawhile, there was a maid waiting for me outside the door of the room when I got out for dinner time. Amiably smiling, the maid led the way towards the blue dining hall where the dinner will be held as what Mr. Tharraleos said.

The whole mansion's layout was strenuous to memorize, twisting and turning into a great maze. From the parquet floor the ground started to changed into a more elegant design. A carpet that was lengthy in spread was placed at the middle of the floor, muting the noise that our shoes' footsteps were creating.

Even though I have passed numerous corridors already, I was still in awe. There was always fresh and new things that every turns and cleft of this mansion were decorated with. Paintings, antiques, vases, tapestries, and statues— there were a lot when I said I was still in awe.

Not a single hallway has the same decoratives, but there was still a unity in how the interior designs were placed and grouped together with. There was a certain placement on every single thing that contributed to the overall look and ambiance of the mansion. Neither homey nor was it cold; a very fine line between those two.

The maid gestured at a double doors after for a while of walking inside of this maze-like mansion. I only nodded at her uttered my thanks. My hand was hovering on the elegantly carved bronze door knob, as the maid made her way back to who knows where. I was not certain at all how I should react.

Pretend that Amara who went berserker on me, thrashing and yelling, never happened? Or should I just confrot Mr. Tharraleos of what had happened? Should I hold him accountable for what happened? Was Amara only overworked?

But those two last questions were only false and should never be included to this whole affair if a person has two eyes or even just half a mind. Insane and overworked also have the same fine line, but one would never topple over the other like a piece of domino.

The double doors did not creaked or even made the slightest as I was opening them up for me. Inside were already two people, both of whom were sitting properly. They were not conversing like what would a perfectly normal two people would, they were just staring at their plate blankly.

Miss Eris' blonde hair glinted with the light of the chandelier above, while Mr. Tharraleos' dark red eyes were piercing his plate making it seemed like the plate did something offensive to him.

The hall, when my eyes swept all over it for a full view, was elegant and refined. It was not as decorated as I thought it would be, not with those frivolous heavy drapes over the expansive windows that overlooked the property from the inside. It was simple and elegant. There was only a long rectangular table on the very middle of the hall and dozens of chair though there were only the three of us that were dining.

On cue of my arrival, the two people lifted their gazes from their plates to my direction. It was sinisterly simultaneous, making it seemed like they practiced though I know that the very notion of it was rather silly.

"Good evening," Miss Eris greeted, she stood up from where she was sitting and gestured at the seat from across her own seat which was some chairs on the left side of Mr. Tharraleos.

I nodded at her. I turned around and gently closed the door behihd me. When I was done, only the did I greeted them. As I approached the two of them, Mr. Tharraleos stood up and stared at me. His gaze was uncanny and there was a flash of coldness within them.

I clenched my jaw and sat down.

"Shall we start?" Mr. Tharraleos asked and picked up the napkin on the plate in front of him.

I sat down slowly on the chair that was designated to me. From another set of doors, maids and servants poured out with the food. Each of us were given a serving and they even plated it in the table.

My eyes went down on the food.

Even the spoon was the color of gold.

The table was noisy with the utensils clanking against the plates. I cannot look at either Miss Eris or Mr. Tharraleos, not even a small glance. I was uncertain how should I ask the things hammering the insides of my head or if I was ever permitted to do so, to ask about what really happened to Amara.

Against my mouth, the food tasted bland. It was hot, but I do not think I could feel it. The golden fork glinted against the light that was being provided by the diamond-like chandelier from above us.

The echoes of the utensils' clink was echoing in the room; it was silent but also it was deafening.

"Was Amara ill?" I abruptly asked, surprising even myself with how I phrased it. I still didn't looked up from staring down to my plate.

It was too cold.

Mr. Tharraleos' eyes were too cold to greet.

"Yes," he responded languidly, almost lazily if I dared to say so, "she is ill. I do hope you're not worried. Under my employment, she is well taken care of."

That had not even crossed my mind, but I guess I should start worrying over that if Amara was too 'ill,' after all, I could only afford to study at Academia Amitiel because of Mr. Tharraleos' generosity of sponsoring me on that academy.

"But she is also not ill," I added suddenly. Now, it was Mr. Tharraleos' time to be surprised. "Is that not right?" I asked for confirmation.

Miss Eris coughed, clearing her throat awkwardly at the tension on the table. She set down her fork and wiped her mouth clean, there was a smile prepared on her little mouth.

"It must have been extremely confusing for you," she symphatetically said in a small voice. Though it rather sounded condescending at first, when I really listen to her tone, it was actually sincere and emphatetic. "I understand that, but—"

"Would you rather have me pretend that I saw nothing?" I demanded gently at her. "That I heared nothing? And that everything is right and just?"

I finally lifted my gaze from my half-full plate to her empathetic face, it was round and full of anxiety. Her eyes flicked to where Mr. Tharraleos' sat, still eating, unperturbed by the commotion right in front of his face. She seemed to be asking for help, but Mr. Tharraleos took his sweet time to acknowledge the questions I have thrown at him.

"Yes," he said calmly, or coldly rather, "I want you to do exactly as that."

Then he also lifted his gaze to my eyes. I clenched my jaw harder to prevent myself from doing or saying anything inappropriate. On those eyes there seemed to be a hidden message: what a measly situation to be involved in.

"A sealing ritual, is it not?" he abruptly asked me.

He knew?

My eyes widened a fraction, though it was only for a bare fraction and even for the smallest of a millisecond— he still saw and noticed it.

"What exactly is happening?" I whispered, but because of the emptiness of the hall, my smal whisper that could easily be inaudible was echoing.

"I didn't do anything," he said, his tone became light and casual but there was also a foreboding sense on it. "But you did a great job. I could sense the residues of magic from you. You seemed to be doubtful, shall I also inform you what I did to prove that it was not I who sent what creature you performed that ritual on?"

Beneath those words were another set of words that could easily be discern.

Are you challenging me?

That was what those words seemed to say to me, but did I dare to do so? Certainly not.

"What are those glares you are throwing at me?" he demanded to me. "Full of disdain and contempt?"

Miss Eris was just watching us back and forth, but when she felt that the tension was too much, she finally intervened. She waved her hands frantically and tried to stop us.

"Don't fight here, please, there are lots of food here and if you fight, this tasty meal might get wasted," Miss Eris reminded Mr. Tharraleos and me. "Let's just eat while the food while it is still hot."

But both Mr. Tharraleos and I were having none of that. He was the first one who spoke, ignoring Miss Eris' reminder and intervention. I still glared at him with the same intensity as before, though I was not speaking, I was certain that Miss Eris could feel my displeasure.

"You think that I am the one who dragged you here?" he demanded yet again, his lazy eyes swept my whole face. "You are wrong, child, I tried to warn them but they kept on being hard-headed. Now, it is still falling apart and there is not even a thing that could patch up every single thing that is being torn apart."