Childhood in the House (and the attendant hazards therein)

by Taywen

Things are (technically) easier in the House: you don't get hungry or thirsty, and it's pretty hard to die. Then again, everyone in the House is emotionally-stunted and none of them really know what to do with a young child. Well, it's the thought that counts, right? / Nine moments from Arthur's childhood. Part three of Arthur in the House.

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Keys to the Kingdom series does not in any way belong to me, it's the property of Garth Nix, etc.

Short first chapter; the others will be longer. Follows 'The (mis)Adventures (in child-rearing) of the Morrow Days'.

---

Childhood in the House (and the attendant hazards therein)

---

His earliest memory is an elevator. Not one of the giant, echoing chambers that seem to be the standard, nor a tiny, cramped closet the likes of which the lowest Denizens are forced to use.

No, it is a comfortable size, perhaps five paces by five for a superior Denizen (that is, one who is taller than six feet), and it is reserved for those highest Denizens that were known as Times of Day, and their direct superiors: the Trustees. There is a thick carpet covering the floor, and the walls are papered with a tasteful, muted pattern. Soft music plays from unseen speakers, soothing.

Arthur is cradled in Dusk's arms, his cheek pressed against the soft wool of Dusk's rich coat, eyelids drooping with fatigue. He can't say if it is Monday's Dusk or Saturday's or perhaps even Marshal Dusk that holds him, but he feels safe and content, and it is an altogether pleasant first memory to have.