"Well I'll be..." Kohl exclaimed.
"Who's that ugly devil!" Zshon smiled.
"It's about damn time that you returned!" Kalach Speelin, a burly, five foot, two inch Goblin, who had brown skin, a rather large nose, and a very wrinkled brow, said after Homsi Modulavich entered the employee lounge.
"Kohl, Zshon, Kalach." Homsi acknowledged his three co-workers. Even though he was wearing his usual—a brown tuxedo and shoes—the shirt that was under the vest of his tuxedo wasn't his usual. It was mustard yellow, and its front was flanked by a ruffle that was black embroidered; if not for his wife's three-day long insistence, he would of worn a plain white shirt that day. "How's everything here?"
"Not as pleasant as it was a few days ago." Kalach answered before his co-workers could. "Mr. and Mrs. Ubalki, and their family, and our employer's sister showed up for their visit on the fourteenth; Mistress Angel, and her sons, fared well with them. Master Tazir's father, and his wife and kids, arrived for their stay two days ago."
"Wh... I thought that the Ubalki's, and Miss. Surfeit, were to come for their visit before everyone else—"
"A mistake happened—Master Tazir forgot to put the invitations that he put on his desk away; Losal, who thought that they were desired to be put in the mail, took them up then mailed them out. Been nearly a week since they were sent out." Kalach was fast in relaying. "Young Master Bile has returned to being unsettled—neither he nor Duru are getting along. Young Master Lhaklar, Hazaar, and Lazeer have also returned to being unsettled—along with having issues with Duru, they're also having problems with his kids."
"I'm in no way surprised," Homsi said. He had been hoping to return to work to find that everyone in his employer's family was settled in; it looked like the opposite was what was going on. "How bad is it?"
He could answer that question with a short, simple sentence: it was bad! He was still shaking his head at what happened after Duru and his wife, and their children, arrived for their visit.
Duru and his wife, after doing a simple and light "introduction", had gone inside to put all of what they had brought along in their room; right after they were seen as going inside, their kids had seen about causing the Young Masters grief. Selik, after making sure that his parents weren't able to see him or his actions, had sauntered over to where Hazaar and Lazeer were—the two had been pushed, and then shoved, for a bit before turning to defend themselves. Uevaa, while not becoming involved in the bullying, had urged her brother to add "some oomph" into what he was doing; she had only stopped doing this after Young Master Lazeer turned and then unleashed a fist in her brother's direction, and after Young Master Hazaar lunged at and then came very close to catching her brother's jaw. With Hazaar and Lazeer looking to be "no fun", Selik had gone over to see about bullying Phaggo; Gaajah, during the time that Phaggo was being bullied, had been trying to resume his old childhood fetish in bullying Hazaar's and Lazeer's brothers.
Gaajah, without Baruk being around to "give his bullying more emphasis", had found himself as being very out-done by the ones that he had taken to bully. Young Master Bile had taken the teasing, and his shirt being grabbed and then pulled, in stride for a few minutes before giving the guy his cue on moving on—the glare that the youngster had given to the bully was the meanest glare that he had ever seen; Gaajah had heeded that given glare's advice by moving on... but, sadly, instead of moving on to another part of the yard, or mellowing down to being a non-bully, he had just moved on to bully Lhaklar.
Lhaklar had taken two to three shoves before voicing his annoyance in Gaajah's actions towards him; the bully, after hearing the voiced annoyance, and after being told to quit it, had grabbed and then de-tucked Lhaklar's shirt before moving on to pushing and shoving him again. Young Master Lhaklar had just made the move to move away from the bully when the bully noticed that he was limping—instead of leaving the boy be, and instead of going off to find something else to become involved in, he had taken it upon himself to stomp on the foot that was causing the one that he was bullying grief. Young Master Lhaklar had surprised the bully by not only wheeling on him but by also swinging his fist at him right after having his foot stomped on; Gaajah, the bully who took orders from his buddy Baruk, but who's buddy wasn't here yet, had yelled before jumping back—the shock, that had covered his face, had been comical while his act of moving off while mumbling and rubbing his chin had been even more comical. Instead of finding the ones that he use to bully being push-overs, and instead of finding himself as being on top of them, he had found himself as being bested.
Gaajah's chin had turned colors within thirty to thirty-five minutes; Cyla, after finishing the chore of unpacking her things, had flipped after seeing her son as wielding a badly bruised chin. She had squealed, and then demanded that Young Master Lhaklar be punished for hurting her "precious, innocent baby". Mistress Angel and Master Tazir, who had been present during the bullying, but who had stayed back—his employer had looked concerned, and had taken a few steps towards Gaajah and Selik, while his wife had simply stood and watched as her children defended themselves—, had vouched for their son on the events that occurred for the boy's chin to be bruised. Duru, after hearing what happened, had also demanded that Lhaklar be disciplined—he had actually gone to do this himself after seeing Lhaklar's parents as not doing anything; Mistress Angel had received two slaps to the face after standing before him, barring his path to her son, which had done wonders in pissing her oldest son off. Young Master Bile, after lunging forward, had delivered two punches to the man who's hand had assaulted his mother's face—he, his brother, and his co-workers were all on the boy's side; if their mother had been slapped after taking up a position in protecting one of them, they would of reacted similarly too.
Young Master Bile had been in such a frenzy after punching Duru that his mother had made the decision to take him, and his brothers, inside and then to their rooms; it had been around two hours before the five were seen again.
"And, at the time that they were calm, something happened to make them get anxious." he was saying to his co-worker, who looked to be very interested in what he was telling him.
Instead of being like the Ubalki's in taking things nice and slow, Duru and his wife had made the decision to jump right into the thick of things with the Young Masters; almost immediately after the four boys were calm, and at around the time that their mother made the decision to go downstairs to get started on lunch, Duru had wandered into all of their chambers. Instead of being polite in knocking, or in making his presence known, he had just gone into the chambers. An "examination" of sorts had been done before his two-cents was given on what he was seeing.
" 'The models need to go—you are all much too old to be doing and concerning yourselves about them.' " he repeated what the man had said after seeing the models that were in the Young Masters' bedroom chambers.
After seeing the game systems, and their assortment of games, he had said the same thing; in regards to the magazines, that were present in the boys' chambers, he had just exploded and then demanded that they be thrown into a fireplace and then burned.
While he could understand the point in wanting the pornographic magazines to be gotten rid of—he had two sons, who were around the same age that Hazaar and Lazeer were, and they had never seen or owned a magazine of that caliber before—he couldn't understand the point in the man wanting all of the magazines to be destroyed. Not all of them magazines were worthy of being thrown out or destroyed; since he wasn't the Young Masters' parents, and since he had no say on what all they owned in magazine material, he was being respectful in keeping his opinion on their having the pornographic magazines to himself—he, and he bet that his employer and his wife would agree with this, wished that Duru and his wife saw it this way. Their stay here would be a much better one if they had.
Master Tazir had said that the game systems, and their compatible games, were to remain where they were; while he had looked halfway willing to agree with his father on the discarding of the pornographic magazines he had also said that they were to remain where they were. His employer had also said that he saw no wrong in his sons building models—the day following this, the man had gotten his sons, and his daughter, a few models to work on, which had caused him, his father, and his father's wife to fight. Duru, after learning that all that was in the chambers was to remain where they were, had tried to remove the items in question himself—Mistress Angel had come up to put a stop to him doing so on two occasions; lunch, on the day that Duru and his family arrived for their too-long stay, had been a bit late in being eaten thanks to her having to go up to rid her sons of the man.
"Young Master Hazaar isn't one to stand down on things, and he has quite a dandy of a punch to him—according to Zshon, it compares very well with his mother's." he said to his co-worker.
"Duru went into his chamber after learning that all that was in it was to remain where it was," Kohl, who was on one of the lounge's couches, said. "He tried to take the items that he deemed as "unfit" for his grandson... instead of leaving the chamber with the models, magazines, and the game systems and their games, he left with his hand being clamped over his left eye."
The models, the game systems and their games, and the magazines were all still in their appointed chambers; Duru hadn't been allowed to remove a single one of them. Mistress Angel had put a permanent stop to her great-grandfather's bullying by telling him to stay away from her sons' chambers—and, as if to emphasize this, she had also used a spell that'd repel him from going into them. Around the time that lunch was finally done in being eaten, she had found herself as doing the exact same thing to the man's wife—Cyla had gone into each of the Young Masters' bedroom chambers, then she had given everything that was in them a quick looking over before opening her big, fat mouth. Mistress Angel had had a time with her—the last he had heard, the two had had a big verbal fight about what all the boys were into and about what all they should and shouldn't be allowed to play, build, or own.
He didn't know the events of what happened after he went home; judging by what he had seen in the larger kitchen the morning following their arrival, events had grown still worse after he clocked out and then returned to his wife and children. That stack of dishes had been quite small for the number of people that were in the house—with their being twenty-one people in the house now, there should of been forty-two plates, twenty-one glasses, and sixty-three silverware present on one of the larger kitchen's counter-tops. Usually, his employer's family used two plates each during the final meal of the day; they used the same silverware and glass-ware that they received after sitting down to dine at the table—instead of finding the expected number of dishware, silverware, and glasses waiting for one of the maids to put away, he had found a stack fit for around twelve people. He guessed that nearly half of the people in the house had grown upset during the meal and then left for another part of the house—with Ulision not being in the kitchen, he hadn't been able to ask if he knew of the events that happened at supper-time.
A near-repeat of the events that happened on the day of Duru and his family's arrival occurred on the 17th and 18th; due to how early it was, they had yet to see what the events of that day were going to be.
"Damn," Homsi cursed after being told the scoop on what was going on in the house. "I take it that Mistress Angel's not been seen today—I didn't see her while on the way up here."
"Last I heard, she was on the third level—she removed herself from our employer's nightly company on the day following Duru's arrival... been sleeping on that level for two nights now." Kalach replied.
After being told where his employer's wife was, he left the lounge then went down the hallway; along with wanting to see her, he wanted to speak to her of the events that had happened in the last two days and he also wanted to see how her present mood was in regards to them events. The last thing that he, and his employer, and his employer's daughter, wanted was for her to up and leave again—she belonged here, not on any other planet or in any other galaxy that was known to exist in the great cosmos of the Universe.
Women were prone to becoming very stressful creatures when the relative health and well-being of their young was involved; along with not wanting her to become too stressed out over Duru's, and his family's, arrival he also didn't want her to hurt herself. Like with Eldass, a sixth sense had become present in him soon after he had been made his employer's Most Trusted Butler; this sense had become associated with his employer's wife almost immediately after she was noted as being his wife—he used this sense to take him to where she may be.
He went up the stairs that led up to the house's third level then he went down the hallway; after going about ten to fifteen steps, he stopped—the room, that was across from the third one on the hallway, was closed but he could see that it was lit on the inside. He could also hear someone talking from within the room. After going towards the room's door, then placing his ear to its wood, he listened; in all, it took him just five seconds before recognizing the voice belonging to his employer's wife. With his employer's wife's voice recognized, he stepped back from the door then reached forward to "knock" on it. A single, light tap was what did the trick in telling the ones that were inside that he wanted to see them; his employer's wife, about thirty to forty seconds after the door was tapped on, opened it then beckoned for him to come in.
He wasn't but so surprised over her swift closure of the door after he entered the room and he was also not surprised over her giving him a quick once-over after the door was closed—with the way things were in the house, she looked tense, which gave him a bit of concern.
"I suppose that you're here to tell me that my husband wishes for me and the boys to come down for breakfast?" she said after checking to see if he was a threat or not.
"No, Mistress. Came up here with the hope to be able to speak with you about—" he looked at the four boys, who were either lying on the room's one bed or were sitting on the room's present furniture, before going on. "—what happened over the last two days."
"Take it that you just got back from vacation? Don't you think you should get back in the groove of working for my husband before tackling any issues that revolve around me and my sons?" his Mistress asked.
"All's fine on my end, Mistress." he said. Really, for him, there was nothing to it in returning to work—but, nonetheless, he respected and accepted her concern and question about his just making a return to normal living, which meant his waking in the morning and then going off to work after doing his usual routine at home.
It looked like she had gone down to freshen up after waking; the hair was as vibrant, and as glowing, as ever and the skin was as clean as could be. The electric blue shirt, that had a removable collar, a ruffled front, and slightly transparent shoulders, looked nice on her and so did the pair of blue pants that had a light blue stripe running down the outer side of their pant legs. It was quite apparent that she had used the room to sleep in—the one bed, while looking to be made, had the signs of someone having slept on it. The white, wrought iron table, that was by the bed's foot, had a few magazines on it—a mild glance told him that all of them belonged to his employer's sons. He was fast in coming under the idea of it either being one person—his employer's wife—or many—his employer's wife and their four sons—as taking the room up last night.
Young Master Lazeer was seated in the Papasan rattan chair, that was in the room's bottom right corner; it looked like he had a handheld device in his hand, and it looked like there was a small pile of cartridges beside him that looked to belong to the device. Young Master Hazaar was lying on the bed while his older full-brother was sitting on the dark blue fainting couch, which was directly beside the room's adjacent bathroom, which was to the left of the room. The oldest boy—Young Master Bile—looked to be pacing back and forth; it was quite apparent that he wasn't very settled that morning.
"There's not much to talk about on the last few days, Homsi." his Mistress said distantly. "My great-grandfather, and his family, arrived; a lot of shit happened because of them, which has caused us to want to remain up here instead of spending time downstairs." she said nothing for the longest of time; he was about to speak to her, and offer her words of advice on what was going on, when she finally sighed and then spoke again. "I had Tazir hand over the keys to my sons' chambers yesterday. My sons have the keys to their rooms now; for the last twenty-four hours, they've been making double sure to lock their rooms after leaving them. As you can see, my sons are with me—they've refused to leave my side for the last twelve hours."
"Duru is a most unappealing man," Homsi said. "He hasn't tried to hurt the boys, has he?"
"No. But my boys are sure showing him that just because they're young doesn't mean that they can't defend themselves." she replied. "I'm not so much worried about Gaajah or Selik; it's my great-grandfather, and his wife, that I worry about."
Even though he had assured himself of his still being in her favor he had still wondered if she saw him as being in her Circle; sixteen hundred years was a long time—a lot had happened over the years. With there being a sixteen hundred gap between his knowing who she was then and who she was now, she had become a sort of stranger to him—with this under his cap, he had placed a call to his father; the question that had given him a cause for concern had been asked and his old Paw, who was quite wise, and kind to ones who were both known and kind to him, had answered it and had given him a piece of advice along the way in what he should do in regards to her.
"Trust your instincts," Paw had said. "She may be aggressive, and a little distrustful of you at the start, but she'll return to acting as she was before she left with the boys. Act as you normally would around her but also be slow and extremely patient; the results that you aim to get might just be achieved if you do, Hom."
While she had been a little off after he entered the room she hadn't given him any signs over wanting him to be away from her or of her being distrustful of him. She had spoken of what was going on in the house, and she had also mentioned something about how her sons were holding up against the threat that was going on in their lives—this, in itself, told him that his standing with her was still intact. She could well of said nothing. Instead of telling him what she had just told him she could of said that they were fine or skipped over the question for conversation on something else that didn't involve her and her sons.
When she spoke of her feelings about what was currently going on in the house—about how she had been nervous about the Ubalki's coming over, and then getting over it after seeing that they were taking things slow with her and her sons, and after seeing that they were also giving her and her sons the respect that they needed, and about how she felt about Duru, his wife, and their children being in the house, and about the other arrivals who had yet to drop in for their prolonged stay—he got a double confirmation on his standing with her being fine. She hadn't been reluctant at all in telling him her feelings about the current situation that was going on in the house that she and her sons had recently been returned to and she had also had a look to her that said that she trusted him.
During her confiding in him her feelings, he noticed that her sons were all quiet; while some were point-blank looking at him there was one or two that were trying to mask their looks by having their magazines held up to their faces—he could see the eyes peering over the tops of them magazines, so he knew that they were curious about him and that they were also concerned about his possibly being "among the ones that turned the house upside down in less than five minutes".
When she started asking him about his opinion on her mothering skills—about her allowing her sons to read the magazines that they got, and about their playing their video games and building their models, and about her allowing them to wear what they wanted to wear—he was triple-assured of his standing with her. He was very aware that if he wasn't still in her Circle he wouldn't of been asked this; despite this knowledge, he acted very professional and calm around her—she was in enough stress as was, there wasn't any need in his adding more to it by being rude or by brushing her and her concern off.
"Mistress, I have two sons that are slightly older than your oldest son—I can tell you that they act much like your own sons. One's parenting is never comparable to another's, Mistress, but I can tell that you've done a very fine job in raising your sons and I can also tell you that you've done no wrong in letting them do as they are currently doing now." Homsi said. "The Young Master's are dressed very well for their age—if they had been walking around with barely anything covering their parts then, yes, I would say that they're inappropriately dressed but, from what I'm able to see, and from what I saw when I was on Earth, they don't do so. I see them as wearing items that ones of their gender would wear—they are at an age where cool is... well, cool."
"That's what ma said to our great-grandfather," Bile said. After saying this, he mumbled, "Course, no one can say anything to the man when the man's equal is around."
And, with that, the second oldest of the four boys spoke; he mostly spoke of the events that happened during supper three nights ago but he also included small snippets of the events that had happened during the meals that occurred on the following two days and on what happened before them meals were given.
Apparently Cyla had eavesdropped on Mrs. Ubalki talking to Qeeta about the fact that his employer's wife was still producing milk for her sons; she had kept the fact of knowing this to herself for some time before, during supper of the day that she, her husband, and their children arrived for their stay, spilling it to the whole of the house's inhabitants. Cyla was dead against it while her husband was both dead against it and disgusted by it—the claim, put forth by both Cyla and her husband, was that the continued production of one's natural milk caused infertility to happen, which would hinder a couple from having children and which would also make the present children become too dependent on their mother. To him, this was bull—Abara hadn't only gotten pregnant while still letting their children have her natural milk but she was still letting three of their five children nurse from her. She had been the one to make the decision on weaning Arenzoar and Beaufi of her milk; he hadn't had any involvement or say on when the time came for the two to be weaned or even on how much of her milk they could have.
The heartless scrooge that was his employer's father had demanded that his employer give his wife the pill that would make her milk supply dry up; after hearing that his demand wasn't to be done, he had stood up and then started yelling at him about what he was doing to both himself, his wife, to their children, and to the whole of their family by letting his wife do as she was with her children. On the day that followed the family's arrival to the house, the man had gotten on Young Master Bile for eating so much and for Mistress Angel's "culinary" skills—the man hadn't liked the wide assortment of food that had been placed on the table and he hadn't liked the idea of the boys taking what they wanted of it either. During the concluding dessert of the meal that was served on that day, he had tried to pull a fast one by saying that the younger members at the table were allowed one and only one thing that had been placed on the table—as Kalach had told him, most of his employer's family had left the table before supper was able to be served on the day of Duru and his family's arrival; on the two days that followed, they had managed to eat the main course of the day's final meal before growing tired of Duru and his wife's shenanigans. They, along with the Ubalki's, and Qeeta, had gotten up and then gone to the smaller kitchen on them days while, on the preceding day, they had gone hungry.
"I see no wrong in what your mother's doing in accord to you and your brothers, sir." Homsi said to Lhaklar. After saying this, he turned to look at and then speak with his mother. "You, My Mistress, are doing nothing wrong in their raising, feeding, or care." He let that sink in, and he let his anger dispel for a few minutes before saying, "Is there anything that you wish for me to bring to you or your sons this morning, Mistress?"
"No, we'll be headed downstairs for breakfast in a few short minutes." Angel said. "We won't be long at the table—think you know why on why we won't be staying in the dining room for long. I'll let my sons make the decision on what they're to do today after breakfast is consumed."
After Homsi left, she turned then gave the word on what they were to do during breakfast; her sons groaned, but didn't complain about going down to join "the family", then they received some comfort from her before being told to get up and then follow her. She allowed for them to take what they had taken to the room last night—she had taken up the room that was across from Hazaar's two nights ago; instead of sleeping in their own rooms last night, they had joined her in the one that she had taken up—then she took them downstairs.
She was a proud mother who relished in the fact that her sons were independent acting and that they didn't copy off of others or try to be others; despite Duru and Cyla's ranting and raving attitudes, her children had continued to don their usual clothes and regard one another in their usual ways. She was glad that her children were non-changed in the way that they acted and she was also glad that Tazir had gotten them a few things to de-stress with—some of her sons had done the models that he had gotten for them while others hadn't; she was hoping that Lhaklar would get to doing his model of the streamlined Tatra T87, or the Tatastream, as Tazir continued to call it, today and she was also hoping that Hazaar would break open the box of his model jet-propulsion train too.
They made it to the table unhindered and they also took their seats unhindered; Tazir, who had long since been at the table, and who had already been eating at the time of their arrival, was fast in looking at them. After acknowledging their presence, then asking her if all was fine with them, then getting a yes-answer to his question, he went back to eating what was on his plate.
Bile placed three of the chocolate-filled pancakes on his plate before making himself a bowl of eggs; he took three slabs of bacon from the tray that they were on before sitting back in his chair. Lhaklar placed an egg omelet, two raspberry cheesecake crepes, and three sausage patties on his plate; due to his not knowing how to handle crepes, Lazeer's plate became saturated by the chocolate sauce that was in the three crepes that he took up from the tray that that food item was on. Lazeer added four sausage patties, and then two bacon slices, to his plate before sitting back in his chair. Hazaar concerned himself mostly with the scrambled and deviled eggs that were in the two dishes; he placed three deviled eggs on his plate before making a better than decent sized bowl of scrambled eggs. At the last possible second, he added a single pancake to his plate as well.
She placed a single pancake on her plate before going on to making herself a bowl of eggs; she grabbed the remaining pieces of bacon, and the final two sausage patties, from their trays before sitting back and then starting in on her breakfast. With herself being as hungry as she was, and with her husband's pancake being as good as it was, she gave it a good consideration about grabbing another after her first was consumed—she had just placed a second pancake on her plate when a throat was cleared; her great-grandfather, the one who had just cleared his throat, spoke right before she could return to eating what was on her plate.
"You and the boys going to act as you did yesterday, and the day before yesterday?"
"Only if we're driven to it." she replied.
"Tazir, I'm not very surprised that you didn't speak up in telling your wife and sons to pipe down last night. I figured that you'd let Angel walk all over you." DuruVile said.
"Pardon me, but we haven't been walking all over him." Angel said. She was offended; not once since their return to the mansion had they taken advantage of her husband.
"From memory of the events of the last two days, you five did look to be doing so." DuruVile said.
"From my correct memory, none of us did or said a thing that would regard such a statement." Angel said. She, and her sons, ate in silence after this conversation was said between her and her great-grandfather. After they finished what was on their plates, she stood up then said, "Excuse me."
His sons, instead of saying their excuses before getting up and then leaving the room, got up and then followed their mother; he let them go. Instead of being angry, or frustrated over their hasty, and very impolite, exit of the room he was emotionless about it. With what they had gone through these past few days, he thought that they deserved to be a little impolite that day.
He had gotten on his father for all that he had said to his family and he had also given Cyla an earful on what all was coming from her mouth; from what he was able to see, all of what he had said to the both of them had gone through one ear and then out the other. He and Eshal, while having eaten on the day of their arrival, hadn't been very hungry during that day's evening meal; Eshal had been fast in following him after he got up and then left the table on that day while, on the two days that followed, she had been a little slow in doing so.
The improperly sent invites, and the express-sent letter, that had explained the situation on the invites being accidentally sent out but that hadn't said anything to their recepients on their disregarding them, had gotten to their destination on the same day that his mother and stepfather's, and their family's, and Qeeta's invites were received—due to his father, and his family, being with his father at the time, they hadn't been able to notice them or swing in for their stay; according to Gaajah, after they got home, then set their bags down, then retrieved the mail, which had been all bundled up and waiting all nice and patiently in their box for them, they had re-grabbed their bags and then swung over.
He, after being told this, had put two-and-two together on when the others who had been sent an invite were to get here. If his father, and his family, had gotten their invites three days ago then there was a possibility that his brother, and his family, had also gotten theirs. For all he knew, his grandfather might of gotten his today—while his grandfather lived close to where his father did there may be a chance that the mail carrier hadn't noticed the invite and then placed it in his box or that the mail in his area was a little slow in being sent out.
He finished his breakfast then he stood up to leave the room; it seemed that the second his plate was clean everyone else was either nearing their meal's completion or was done in eating—Eshal collected the dishes for a while before relinquishing that activity to the two maids, who had come in after seeing him as exiting the room. She, Blaiga, Defe, and Uevaa went off together; Efagti, Amadh, and Phaggo went off with his stepfather while Selik ran off to some other part in the house. His father, and Gaajah, followed him while Cyla followed his mother, who had a rather messy toddler in her arms that she wanted to clean up, and Qeeta.
While he had no destination in mind to go to he did have a feeling that it was the gym that his feet were taking him to; the two who were following him said nothing while he led them down the hallway, then around the corner, then down the hallway that the gym was on. In a way, when he heard the characteristic clicking sounds that were given off by the gym's stationed equipment, he wasn't very surprised over finding that his sons had gone to have a morning work-out. He figured that it was just one of his sons—Bile, he thought—that was in the gym; when he went into the room, then saw that it was Lhaklar and Lazeer instead, he received a small shock.
"Well now I'll be a monkey's uncle," he said after seeing who it was that was in the room. "Decide to work-out some of them morning calories, Boys?"
"Yeah. Or, at least for a short while." Lhaklar, who looked to be lifting a sixty pound dumbbell, said.
"Then we head either upstairs—" Lazeer started to sing.
"—or to the library." Lhaklar ended.
"You're weird—books after working out in the gym and then breakfast? Yuck!" Lazeer said while pulling himself back along the floor. The Ab Roller that he was using was a "fairly" recent addition to the gym—it had been purchased some fifty to sixty years ago; unlike the other equipment in the gym, it had just been purchased and then stored in the attic. Lazeer, who had done a little exploring in that part of the house a few days ago, had found and then brought it down to the room that it was now being used in. He was glad to see that the piece of equipment was being put to use and he was also glad that his son had "the nerve" to move things around in the house's attic.
"How's your foot this morning, Lhaklar?" TazirVile asked his oldest son.
"Stings. It's still swollen, and bruised, but the swelling and bruising aren't as pronounced as they were yesterday." Lhaklar replied.
"Are you able to walk on it alright?"
"With quite a lot of limping, yes." Lhaklar replied.
"Take it easy whenever you move around, son." TazirVile said after going forward to join his sons in using the gym's equipment. "You don't think it's still broken, right?"
"No—I can put some of my weight on it but not for long." Lhaklar replied. "Has no smell to it, if that's your next question."
"Yes it does," Lazeer was fast in sitting upright. "Smells like it got sprayed by a skunk; I'm guessing that he walked through a sewer afterwards. Phew!"
"Very funny, Lazeer." Lhaklar said.
The dark gray tuxedo jacket, that had a normal tail on its back, was removed and then set to the side; the light gray vest, that's ties were an even lighter shade of gray, was removed next. The shirt that he was wearing, which was a faint gray color, and which had long sleeves and light silver buttons running down its front, followed suit. Once his top half was de-clothed, he went towards the machine that he had purchased just five days ago—due to the Twist 'n' Pull having a belt on it, it resembled a treadmill; the two elastic bands, that were connected to the side of the belt, were the cause for the device's name. One walked, or ran, while pulling, or twisting, the elastic bands—there were no bars on either side of him for a reason; this was a machine used to aid one in gaining better balance. Due to this being a very new device in his gym, he was the only one allowed to use it—until he got the hang of it, and until his sons saw how to use it, no one but he was to use it. He used this machine for a total of fifteen minutes before deciding to get off and then move on to where the weights were; a hundred and fifty pounds were added to the bar, then the bar was lifted a total of twenty times, before being set down—he had no more set the weighted bar down when he noticed that his youngest son was wearing the vest that went with the room's synthetic rock wall.
He watched with baited breath as his son started ascending the wall; on one or two occasions, he contemplated going forward to either supervise or to just plain be close in case something happened and he was needed and fast. When his son was six feet up the wall, he let his breath go—Lazeer looked to be doing fairly well on the wall and he also looked quite strong and sure of his movements.
"I am quite impressed with the one that was prematurely born." DuruVile, who had been watching as his three family members worked out in the gym, said after stepping over to his son's side. "Seems to carry the same air that your brother had at that age."
"This is the first time that I've been in the gym with him—I'm also impressed with him." TazirVile replied.
"Your firstborn seems to be lame, Boy." DuruVile said. "He's been limping the entire time that I and mine have been here, do you know why?"
"He dropped a weight on his foot a couple of days ago." TazirVile replied.
"Did he break his foot?" DuruVile asked.
"Yes, but it's not broken anymore. He's still experiencing bouts of sw—"
"Then he should act like a man and walk like he should." DuruVile said crisply.
"You're one to talk, dude." Lhaklar said. He had heard everything that his father and grandfather had said. "Interrupting another is rather childish."
"I see that your mother hasn't taught you manners either," DuruVile said. "Speaking when not spoken to and acting disrespectful. Disgraceful, utterly disgraceful."
"What you did in interrupting my father is worse." Lhaklar pointed out.
"My father is one of the elders in this room—he has more rank." Gaajah said.
If he was able to roll his eyes he would; the one who had spoken was, technically, his uncle—with the way the guy acted, he wouldn't be calling or referring to him as being that. The kid's name was GaajahVile Vulbub Surfeit, or Gaajah to the ones that were his family or who knew him; he was two thousand years old. He didn't look anything like his father.
Instead of being bi-colored, like his father and most of his siblings, he was solid-colored—he had light blue skin and a normal-sized head from which two, slightly elongated ears stuck out from. His slightly elongated ears were a tinge darker than the rest of him; they had just one, black, Tiger-like stripe on them. His body build, though being lean, like his father's, wasn't like that of his father's—the immature muscle, that was present on him, made him look physically behind in development. His eyes were the only thing that he had that said that he was a son of DuruVile Bolushi Surfeit—they were a glowing green color, and they had yellow pupils in their centers. He stood a good, six foot, two inches tall; the fingernails, that came out from the ends of each of his fingers, were a dark blue color. Like his father's fingernails, they had been filed to having finely sharp points on them.
Instead of wearing something that a teenager would he was wearing something very ancient—and something that he'd not be caught dead in. The red velvet and satin jacket was long; it had dull gold buttons and embroidery on its front. The red, long sleeve, button down shirt looked normal in appearance while the bright red vest, that had gold buttons on it, didn't. The kid's red pants went to just his knees; the garter ties, that were around the ends of the pant legs, held the pants tight to his knees. The slacks, that came out from the pant legs' ends, were crisp and white and non-wrinkled. To him, the pair of dark brown shoes, that had a silver buckle on their tops, didn't fit or match the outfit at all.
"Should consider asking him if he needs a powdered wig—he looks like one of them people who lived in the colonial days." Lhaklar thought while lifting the dumbbell.
Lazeer was able to achieve ten feet before his arms started showing that they were nearing their limit; after his arms started shaking, and after he nearly lost his grip on one of the wall's hand-holds, he started his descent. Once on the floor, he shook his arms then went to remove the vest from himself. He had only just gotten the vest from his body when his mother walked into the room—she had a displeased look on her face; the one that she was dragging along behind her looked plain embarrassed.
"Girl! Remove your hand from my son this minute!" DuruVile barked after turning and then seeing that his son was struggling to get free of the one that had him.
"You need to teach this one some manners, granpappy." Angel said. She released Selik, who was fast in running over to his father; he "hid" himself behind his father while she went over to where her youngest son was. "Hazaar was using one of the upstairs bathrooms when he barged in on him—along with causing a small fight he also made the scrape, that my son received a few days ago, to reopen."
"Boy—have I not told you that bathrooms are not places to cut up in!" DuruVile swiped his hand back; a sound was heard after it collided with Selik's arm.
"S-sorry dad. I didn't know that he..." Selik was near to tears; his arm, where his father's strike landed, was throbbing and causing him a bit of grief. Despite his emotional and physical pain, he knew better than to show that he was hurting; that went double for the fear that he felt—if he had shown either, he might well of gotten ten times worse than a plain hit.
"Did he take care of his elbow, mom?" Lhaklar, who had already placed the dumbbell down, asked. He stood from the bench that he was sitting on then he limped over to his mother.
"I don't know," Angel answered. "He ran off in a huff after I got there to put a stop to the two's fighting."
"You don't seem very concerned, Angel." DuruVile was quite shocked over hearing that his great-granddaughter wasn't but so concerned over her son being injured; he had figured that she'd be jumping all over the walls with worry—instead, she had just brought him his son and then calmed down after explaining the situation.
"My boys are among the strong elite—you throw something at them, or bring them down, and they'll just keep getting up." Angel said. "Hazaar's fine—his scrape is deep but it's not deep enough to be concerned about. He'll take care of himself, I'm sure."
"I've seen that scrape... he's had twenty times worse in the past." Lhaklar said. He turned to look at his mother after something came to him. "Remember when both of his knees were scraped down to nearly the bone when we were—"
"I remember," Angel said. Since it had been brought up, she decided to speak more of the day that her son had just referenced. "We were at the beach when it happened. He was running, playing with two or three other kids, when he tripped and then fell on some rocks. He got up, then went on with playing with them kids, afterwards."
"Took you three yells before he stopped and then ran over to you." Lhaklar said.
"When and where did that happened?" TazirVile asked. He was both shocked and proud of his son for continuing to play with the injuries that he had received on the day that had been referenced.
"San Diego, California. Ocean Beach, to be specific." Angel replied. "About eight hundred and one years ago."
"What were you doing in that location, Girl?" DuruVile asked.
"Finishing up the last scene of Volcano Eruption—my sons wanted to come along on that day and, seeing as it was the final day for shooting that film, I decided to let them see what I was doing and then have some fun after everything was said and done with." Angel replied.
"Volcano what?" DuruVile was confused.
While he had heard of certain people using their powers during certain job-placed tasks he had never heard of one who had Surfeit blood running through their veins using the good powers that they had been given while on the job. He found himself feeling rather disappointed in Angel for going so low in using her powers on a feature—he was glad to know that she was alive, and that she was back to being where she was suppose to be, and he was also glad that all of her children were alive and healthy, but he wasn't glad over her decision in using her powers to "better" a feature. Even after hearing that she had done a bunch of features as a way to get her sons through school, and to pay for certain repairs that were needed on their former residences, and for the repairs needed on a vehicle, he was still disappointed in her power usage.
It took him all of thirty seconds to "forget" his disappointment—the fact that she had put the boys through school was what got him in the right mindset and what got a good chunk of his interest. He had a feeling that he'd be "combing" through the files that Tazir claimed to have in his office and he also had a feeling that he was to be both livid, overjoyed, and disappointed over what all he was to find in them files.
"So, think I'll ask one more question before I and my sons vacate the room," Angel said. She gave Selik a long look before turning her gaze to his father. "He's going through that phase where he's rather—"
"He is, yes." DuruVile nodded his head. "Been giving me and my wife and his siblings grief for years now."
"So it's possible that what happened upstairs was just his having an episode and just my son being in the wrong area at the wrong time?" Angel speculated. "Hazaar and Lazeer are also experiencing that phase—Hazaar more so than Lazeer, but even Lazeer has them moments where he gets—"
"Use a stick or a belt on them and they'd not get to them uncontrollable points." DuruVile interrupted.
"I would never!" Angel exclaimed.
"Boys require different disciplinary techniques than girls, Angel." DuruVile said. "They will walk all over you if don't put them in their place and fast."
"My sons have never walked all over me." Angel said. With this said, she turned then started walking away.
"We love and respect her too much to do th—" Lhaklar started to say.
"Lhaklar! Lazeer!"
"Coming!" Lhaklar and Lazeer were fast in joining their mother in leaving the gym.
As his mother and brothers were leaving the gym, he was thinking around the area of his not having to worry about having someone barge in on him when he was using the bathroom during his days in being a civilian of Earth. Even though there had been only two bathrooms in the apartment, and even though there had been five persons living in that apartment, no one had barged in on another or had acted in any way, shape, or form disrespectful whenever the bathroom was being used—that Selik kid looked to either not know the word respect or, if he knew it, he just didn't care to use it. He had barely had his pants up when the kid rushed into the room that he was in; instead of speaking to him, he had just grabbed and then thrown him towards the sink—along with being rude in rushing into the room without knocking first he had also unzipped his zipper and then whipped it out while he was still trying to regroup and then remove himself from his company. As was his natural, he had defended himself—after the guy was done with his business, of course. He had snapped at him, then had given him a few pushes and shoves, before trying to palm-slap him—due to his mother being in the area, and being fast enough to reach him in time, the kid had gotten off lucky; instead of hitting air, he could well of hit him in the face with the hand that he had been swiping at him. After being separated from the kid he had turned and then stomped off towards his room—after getting to his room, the door had been shut and then locked.
The re-opened wound, that was on his elbow, had been tended then he had made the decision to sit before his unopened model; he was currently setting the various pieces to that model up now.
"Don't see a reason to not open it, or build it." he thought after all of the pieces were out and aligned in order of their placing.
While he was a fan of building model trains and spaceships, and while he liked to build model trains and spaceships, he wasn't obsessed over the act of getting a model or over building it—if he was, he would of broken the seal to his new model right after receiving it. He didn't beg, or plead, or try to pull blackmail to get a model and he didn't throw a fuss whenever the supplies that were needed for a model were low or when they were completely used up. If he didn't have the funds to get the supplies for one of his models he'd ask his mother if she'd go out of her way to get them for him—if she couldn't, he didn't throw any lip or become like a baby—and, if he didn't have the funds for a specific model, he'd just wait until next month's allowance came in—he very rarely asked his mother, and brothers, if they could get him a model and he did try to stay clear of asking them to get him a model; building model trains and spaceships was his hobby, he thought that he should be the one fronting the costs for it.
"He's much too old to be worrying about model building, and about getting models or the items required for the models to be built with. Wean him from this hobby, and get rid of the models that he's already done so he's not tempted to return to it." he heard his grandfather saying in the deep recesses of his brain.
If he was being childish in having and building models then wasn't his father also being childish in having bats, Platypuses, and fish as pets and in having so many bat-related artifacts in his house? While he didn't know the man who had run his trap on his hobby very well he had a feeling that he liked to blow a lot of hot air and put people down for the pure reason of being able to do so; he was personally hoping that he'd back off so he could live his life the way he wanted to.
"Before the Zoomers came in, there had been all kinds of trains running the rails on Earth." he thought while gluing certain pieces of his model onto the model's base.
The steam-powered trains were his favorite type of train; they had had a super long run until being mostly retired for favor of the "upgraded" speed-demons that were said to be "energy savers". These trains utilized an energy source that was pumped through the single rail that they ran on—along with running a roller coaster-like course on their rails they also "absorbed" the energy that flowed through their rails. He, who had started liking trains in his early hundreds, had rode on one of these trains once—his face had almost felt like it was being ripped free of him, and his upper and lower body had felt like they were about to be ripped in half, and he had screamed bloody murder until the thing finally stopped. After finally plucking the courage to remove his hands from the pole, that had been in the train's aisle, he had never partaked in riding another of them screaming metal deathtraps again—the ride on the steam-powered trains was much more smoother, and relaxing, in comparison, and he liked riding them trains better than the other ones.
With his thinking about the Earth-made trains, and of his riding them from time to time, and with his doing his model, he lost track of the time. When he looked up and then to the side, he saw that it was nearing lunch-hour—after emitting a gasp, he put the items that he had used on his model train, the engine, of which, was nearly complete, away then he got up from his desk. With his station clean, and with his model now sitting out to dry, he left his room.
He had no more left his room before wanting to return to it; standing two feet from the room that he had just closed and then locked were Gaajah and his younger brother, Selik.
"Oh look, it's the sissy. He finally decided to come out from his hidey hole." Gaajah said after seeing him in the hallway.
He wasn't one of them people who let others walk all over them, or who didn't voice their opinions or stick up for themselves; he had earned a lot of detention during his tenure at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic and the University of Telepathy for the way he was and, personally, he was glad for all of that gained detention spells and for the record that he had. He was no push-over and he wasn't about to let anyone turn him into one or try to get the better of him—if a fight was going on, you could bet that he'd be putting his best into it and that he'd cause enough damage to the one who was fighting him to remember for a while. With him being this way, he braced himself for the fight that he knew would happen and that did happen almost immediately after he started down the hallway.
Gaajah tried the old flat-tire on him when he was passing him by; he turned right after the heel of his foot was stepped on then he gave a single lunge to indicate that he wasn't in the mood and that the kid needed to back off. Selik took advantage of him being busy with his brother; he swung at his backside twice before slapping him in the back of the head. When he turned to look at the kid, he received a punch to the gut—it was this that caused the normal-range bullying to turn into a full-fledged fight.
Selik tried to grab him after punching him; he ducked just in time to avoid him then he kicked his foot up. Gaajah, who he wasn't able to see or concentrate on, grabbed him from the back then threw him. The kick that he received from Gaajah after he was thrown was what did him in—he yelled after his groin was assaulted by the kid's foot, and he put his hands up to defend himself, but, due to the pain that he was feeling, he wasn't able to get fully mobile or back into the groove of fighting the two of them.
Four punches were thrown after he had most of his mobility taken from him; Gaajah's nose was nearly broken while Selik's nose was broken. The mild kick that he sent in Selik's direction caused Selik to drop to his side—despite the pain that he was in, he managed to get halfway up and then leap at him. He was just placing himself on his foe, and was just gearing up to swing at him, when Gaajah grabbed and then heaved him to the side. He had just managed to get up when a set of hands wrapped around his arm; to his extreme shock, he watched as Gaajah "ripped" the antler from one of the hallway's bronze Elk statues. The kid, after "tearing" the antler from the statue, advanced towards him then started beating him with it
His ribs screamed after the first hit was received, then his stomach acted like it wanted to spew whatever contents that were still in it, then his vision grew very blurry; he was swimming between being conscious and unconscious when the broken antler was swept across his brow. A four-inch long cut opened up, then started bleeding at once; his blood had only just started dripping down to the carpet when the door that was two down from his bedroom opened. Due to his experiencing a sort of black-out, he didn't know the events of what happened next.
"Hey!" Bile roared after seeing his brother being beat up on. Hazaar was nearly slumped over; he was being held by Selik while Selik's older brother was beating him up with something that looked bronze-brown in color and hard. After seeing this spectacle, he rushed forward.
One yank, one twist, and two punches was what it took to get Gaajah away from Hazaar while, with Selik, it just took a single, menacing step to make him relinquish his hold on his brother. Gaajah, who's face was a bloody mess, rushed for his parents; he, who had been listening to some music while watching some tv, guessed that he'd be trying to pin the blame on either him or Hazaar for his broken wrist and for whatever was wrong with his face. His foot being sent up Selik's ass was what got him running in the same direction—he guessed that he'd do the same as his brother in trying to pass the blame on someone else. With the two bullies out of the area, he turned to collect his brother; Hazaar, while looking to not be fully there, was able to get to his feet but he wasn't able to walk like a normal person would—in all, it took him three minutes to get his brother down the hall and then into his bedroom.
Hazaar lost consciousness almost immediately after being placed on the soft sheets that were on his bed; seeing as his brother was already starting to bruise up, and probably harbored more than just plain facial wounds, he went downstairs for a ziplock baggy. After filling this bag, then freezing its contents, he rushed upstairs; the bag was just being placed on his brother's more severe facial bruises when his mother and adoptive father were heard as coming down the hallway.
"Bile, you have two seconds to explain yourself." Angel said after entering the only room on the hallway that was open. "Gaajah claims that you broke his wrist and—"
"Damn right I did!" Bile growled. "Came out of my room to seeing him and his little brother beating up on Hazaar—Gaajah had something in his hand that was a bronze-brown color; Selik was keeping Hazaar in place so he could beat him with it."
"From what Selik's told his father, Hazaar broke a statue and then tried to use it on them, and for no reason at—"
"I can tell you that that is a load of shit!" Bile exclaimed. "Ma, you know Hazaar as well as I do. While he's a bit temperamental, and sometimes hard to get along with, he knows better than to break things that are as expensive as that of what's in this place."
"Where's your brother?" Angel asked.
Gaajah had been the first of the two to squeal about the "happenings" between them and her son; her great-grandfather had flipped after seeing them then he had whisked them away for treatment of their wounds—he wasn't very happy about what had happened between his sons and Hazaar and he was voicing this quite loudly. Even while being on the third level, she could hear him running his fool head off about Gaajah's nose being nearly broken, and about his wrist being broken, and about his face being all cut up, and about Selik's nose being broken and about all of the bruises and cuts that were present on his face—after seeing her son on the room's bed, then going over to see him, she saw that he had a lot more injuries to himself than they did. One look was all it took for her to determine that her son had been the one to be ganged up on and that Bile was telling the truth.
Hazaar had anywhere between six and eight cuts on his face; his lower lip, his left brow, and his right cheek were badly cut while the other cuts were minor ones. His right cheek, and his chin, were already bruising. The fact that her son had his hands between his legs caused her to believe that he had been kicked, or injured, down there—he, after regaining consciousness, started shaking before beginning the process of rolling over to one of his sides.
She knew that her son had a history of breaking things—a few windows in their old apartment had been broken by him, and his fist had gone through the walls a few times, and certain things had been grabbed and then thrown for no reason—but she also knew that he knew better than to grab and then break, or throw, certain things that were very, very expensive. She didn't place blame on her son for the broken statue; after seeing him, and the extent of his injuries, she took him into her arms then started rocking him.
"I d-d-didn't d-do it, mom-my..." Hazaar stammered. "G-Gaajah gra-grabbed it then br-broke it him-himself, I sw-swear!"
"Calm down, Hazie." Angel said. The act of her giving her son a hug seemed to make his tough resolve melt; he had a complete emotional breakdown after her arms were around him.
Lhaklar, who had been in the library, reading up on certain languages that he had an interest in learning, ran up after hearing that his brother had been ganged up on. From the looks of his father, he had gotten to the level just in time; his father looked like he was about to explode—after learning that a statue had been broken, he figured that he was more angered over the statue than over his son being beaten. After getting to the level, and then rushing to his bedroom, he went straight to his bookcase; his wand, which was both silver and straight, and which had a kell and fondel that were molded to look like DNA on it, was retrieved then he broke his neck to get to the room that his father was in.
After running into the room, then noting where his father was, he said the spell that'd cause a copy of the memory of what had happened in the hallway to fly out from Hazaar's temple; the blue strand, that contained the copied memory, hovered in air for a second before being flung in his father's direction. His father took half a dozen steps back, then shook his head, then stared at the floor after the memory was in place—the man, who had been about to get on Hazaar for breaking the statue, tore out of the room right after the memory played itself out for him.
After the man was out of the room, he closed the door. He went to his mother and brother after the door was shut.
"Mistress Angel," the voice belonging to Eldass Zultoa said an hour to an hour and a half later.
"Mr. Zultoa," Angel said after opening the door, and then stepping out to see what the Goblin wanted. "What is it?"
"Master Tazir wants to know if you or your sons are hungry." Eldass said.
"Bile might be," Angel said. "Lhaklar too. Not so sure about Hazaar—he's quite traumatized."
"Master Tazir isn't angry with him about the statue," Eldass said.
That was very true—Master Tazir, after leaving the room, then rushing down to the house's first level, had confronted his father about the statue and then he had targeted his younger brothers for breaking it and for trying to pin the blame on it being broken on his son. A shouting match had happened between father and son after that occurred; from what Kalach had told him, a small fight had happened where blood had been spilled.
Master Tazir's lower lip had been split right open, and his right cheek had a deep cut to it; the man's father sported a badly bruised cheek, and a bad cut to his brow and chin. DuruVile had also been noted as limping after the fight too; Master Tazir must of grabbed the man by his shirt during the fight because the shirt had been noted as missing around half of its buttons.
The bronze Elk statue, which had been purchased from one of them auction houses, and which had cost his employer $4,961, had been repaired; from what he had gathered from Cantrella Koduloktru, one of his fellow female co-workers, both Selik and Gaajah had been punished for their deed in breaking it.
Not a peep had been heard from Young Master Bile's chamber for nearly two hours; with the three boys, who were in the chamber, being so quiet, and with their, and their mother, being a no-show for lunch, they were all thinking that they were hungry. Young Master Lazeer was somewhere in the mansion; he had spent a good chunk of time in one of the house's game rooms before returning to the gym. At present, no one knew where he was.
"I see that he fixed it." Angel said after looking down the hall at the statue that had been broken earlier.
"Yes, Mistress. A spell was done to make it look like nothing had happened to it." Eldass replied.
"Good to know." Angel said. "I'll see if I can send Bile and Lhaklar down for something to eat; Hazaar just calmed down long enough to go to sleep, I don't want to bother him right now."
"I will respect that." Eldass gave a light bow.
He didn't know why but he stayed by the chamber after its door was closed; the ones that were in the room walked around, and spoke among themselves, before leaving. Young Master Bile left the room first. He nodded at him before heading down the hallway. A few minutes after the older boy left the chamber, Lhaklar came out; the youngster went down the hall after acknowledging him then he stopped. He turned around, gave him a look, then turned to resume going down the hallway; he did this a total of three more times before stopping, turning, and then returning to the part of the hallway that his brother's room was on.
When the boy reached him, he stopped then simply stared at him; the face that was on the boy did not look young or like that possessed by a mid-teenager. It looked more like it belonged on a full-grown man, which was both alarming and shocking—with the exception of the skin being mint green, and with the eyes being pistachio-green, he looked almost spot-on to his father!
The boy had no more stopped before him before his mother opened the door and then stepped out; he guessed that she had felt a sense of something about to happen and he also guessed that she wanted to be around to either supervise that something or to prevent it from happening. The lovely woman had only just removed her hand from the room's door knob when her son started speaking to him.
"My mother says that you're the father of one named Daosi." Lhaklar said.
"Yessir."
"I suggest that you do some deep talking to him—he's been threatening my brother whenever he sees him." Lhaklar said. Eldass's breath caught in his throat—Daosi, his secondborn son, had been threatening one of their employer's sons? Sure, Daosi was one who did tend to get into more trouble than Zshon, Yhozah, and Mekaia but would he really head into the territory of threatening one of their employer's children?
"Sir—"
"Lhaklar, if you're looking to cause trouble—" Angel said. This was new to her; until now, she hadn't known that Hazaar was being threatened by anyone who worked for her husband.
"I'm not. I'm just telling him that his son's been threatening Hazaar." Lhaklar said.
"What, sir, is he doing, or saying, to your brother?" Eldass asked.
"He's saying that he's loyal to just my parents—and not to us—and that, if he puts a hand on you, he'll do something bad to him." Lhaklar said. When he saw that the Goblin looked doubtful, he held his wand up. "Should I—"
"No! No sir, you needn't do that." Eldass said. Just seeing his employer's son wielding his wand, and offering to take the memory of what was happening between his brother and his son, and of what was being said by his son, made him believe that he was telling him the truth. "I'll speak to my son... he won't be harming any of you."
"Thank you, Eldass." Angel said. After hearing what she had just heard, she decided to stay on the third level and to remain near Hazaar for a while longer.