Shiny Predictions By A Fool

“I stood before the honorable Sir Pelican, in all his creaking and frail greatness, sporting the sour face in which Philip the Fool had prophesied. Sir Pelican crossed my eye daggers with a strange look of unsettlement from behind bushy white eyebrows while reading the communication I had handed him.

“Now, I know what you are thinking. Why on O’Dia would I fulfill my duty and even show up to Sir Pelican’s home? I wasn’t Philip the Fool’s actual slave or anything. He never bought my freedom. He never rubbed his fingers together to remind me that I had a debt to him to pay. He certainly did not have an article of blackmail on me. One cannot blackmail a person with no past, after all. My relationship with Philip the Fool was a business deal and nothing more.

“You may stand there in wonderment at me just as I stood before Sir Pelican and marveled at my surroundings. A spotty life in a run down orphanage in the industrial district of the city and a hammock in the back of a mildew infested tavern had not prepared me for Sir Pelican’s elegance. Sure, the old man was no more than a collection of dust, but he knew how to decorate. He dressed himself in fine blue silk, and he dressed his walls with fine oil paintings of nightscapes, landscapes, and seascapes. Between each hung painting, stood marble pedestals, which had vines and flowers carved in a wrapping fashion, that peaked around pelvis height. Upon these marble pieces, rested pure silver and gold vases. They were shiny. So shiny. Not only could I fully see my body reflected on its surface better then any of the cloudy scraps of mirror I was accustomed, but the vases’ ability to harness the light offered by the wall torches of this hall made them sources of light themselves.

“Come to think of it, Sir Pelican’s wardrobe even had its tailoring fastened on the cuffs and the chest with shining buttons. I forgot my sour stance, and fixed my sight on those shiny objects. I couldn’t explain the feeling that was coming over me even if someone had a dagger to my throat at that moment. I trembled at the sight of them. I needed all that shined. Even the coins I pulled from the pockets from the street were never shiny, and the realization that I had never actually seen anything truly shiny in my whole roguish life came to me in an incredible and instantaneous force. It felt as if Sir Pelican would never finish that damned letter.

“He did, of course, and, when he did, he neatly folded it and handed it to a servant, who used a wall torch to burn the contents to ash. Sir Pelican sat upon his oak chair, which was turned to face the messenger instead of the fireplace, and stared at me. He kept rubbing his white whiskered chin.

“I felt frantic. A part of me, and keep in mind that I am not normally prone to random acts of violence, wanted to drive my dagger into his skull and make off with everything that could hold my reflection. Maybe that was how alcoholics felt when they were a few pints behind their normal fix.

“If so, then I was an angry drunk because I was down right furious with Philip the Fool. He knew this fixation about me before I did. Somehow. I don’t know how, but he did. What else would explain his arrogant presumption that I would deliver the message? He even ventured that my curiosity of the rich was enough to get me through the front doors. Suddenly, I hated Philip the Fool for not being a fool. He gauged his gamble and knew well his mark.

“Despite my rage and eagerness to prove Philip the Fool wrong, my answer to Sir Pelican’s forthcoming question was already upon my lips.

“‘Hello, my very special boy. I am Sir Pelican. As I have just entered into a deal with Philip the Fool, I will propose one to you. Serve me, and I can not only offer you luxury, but I can tell you what you are. What is your answer, Garland?’