Kodal showed no emotion as he walked up another set of stairs, and past thick trunk like columns that held up the large building of the palace where they lived and feasted upon the fruits of their hard work in the crops they grew.
The garden was Beautiful, a gigantic piece of artwork. There were huge slabs of flowerbeds that wrapped themselves around the garden. There stood two tall, towering, fruitful Troam trees that seemed to tickle the roof of the sky.
In the middle of this garden lay a gorgeous statue of a woman. She meant the world to Kodal, to Hisma, and to everyone in the land of Tempo.
“M’lord! Please! You must understand!”
Kodal kept walking till he came to the tall door leading to the palace, which seemed to tilt over him. He turned the golden handle and gears seemed to clank and grind together and the door swung gracefully open. Kodal took a deep breath.
This time, it was of his mother. Unknown memories of her swim through his mind like a thin fluid. Facing reality once again, he continues his walk through the palace.
“M-M’lord! Um, M’lord!” Hisma yelled, nearly running after Kodal.
Hisma was a loyal friend. He had always looked out for his young master, reducing himself to tears when Kodal bruised or cut himself when playing recklessly, always the fearer of the deep colour red, only when it’s draining from Kodal’s open flesh. He had the very best intentions at heart. Keeping a promise made long ago.
He wasn’t a fat man. In fact he was quite the opposite. It was lack of freedom of movement from the past twenty years that left Hisma rather breathless. He kept his Mutton chops and dark grey hair with a small tint of white and orange well maintained, wearing a dark brown buttoned suit with a stiff collar looking like a loyal servant. A well toned old man of sixty-two years, willing to run his lungs out to reach Kodal.
Kodal on the other hand had plenty of physique for a seventeen year old. He had almost unique golden black hair that was a little similar to Hisma’s, but a lot more messy and carefree. He wore a buckled robe, a light brown with thick leather shoulders and collar; it was rather simple, just the way he liked it. He skin was abnormally pale, eyes like a feral beast, yet sick; one a deep blue, and the other, a milky gold; A very mysterious individual.
Kodal greeted butlers and servants of the palace as he stormed up the stairs. Of all the places to be chased by someone, it just had to be the stairs!
“Good day my lord- Uh, in a hurry I see…” asked a curious servant holding a platter of tea and milk.
“So much to do,” Kodal said hastily, grabbing on to one of the porcelain cups full of tea as he ran past. “So little time to do it!”
“Well, uh, I’ll leave you to it then! M-My lord!” he said, almost forgetting to bow. How clumsy of him.
Kodal belched loudly as he finished the cup and handed it to a large waitress waiting at the top of the stairs.
“My, my! Me lord! Manners! Really! ”
“No time!” Kodal joked as he came to another set, this one a circular staircase. ‘What a relief’ he thought.
Hisma, a few minutes later, ran through the door and stopped to catch his stressing breath, clenching his boney fingers to his chest and throat.
“M-Ma…huff-huff…. M-ma-M’lordy hordy! I’m getting too old for this!”
He looked up and he saw the several stair cases. His heart sank. He lifted his head up high, with his eyes wide, as if telling himself: I cannot give up! I must catch up to Kodal. He is clearly having a meltdown over something and I must find out what. Just climb up those stairs. It’s not as if you haven’t done it before, well, run up them anyway. Hisma ran past the very same tea man that Kodal had past a few seconds ago.
“Good day Hisma-uh, in a hurry I see…”
“Oh, I love tea!” Hisma said as he snatched a hot cup of tea from the platter the man was holding. Guzzling it down, he could feel the smooth vapors and taste roll around his tongue, soothing his aching throat. It satisfied his great thirst as he was getting ready for more running. As he reached the top of the stairs he gave the empty cup to the waiting waitress. Oh, and he didn’t forget to belch, even louder that Kodal’s attempt.
“Manners, I beg your pardon!”
“Oh, never enough time!” Hisma responded.
Great, yet another set of Stairs.
The tea man clenched tightly to the used tea leaf, squeezing the luke warm tea water into the empty cup as a sign of aggravation, and the fat waitress stood there with her large hands kneading her plump hips. They both looked fed up, but happy. To a certain extend they did wonder why they put up with them. But they enjoyed the master and the servants quirky behaviors, it is the only entertainment they ever receive. Asking if anyone wants a fresh cup of tea, or a clean towel can get a bit boring after a while.
Kodal finished his endeavor up the circler staircase, and ran into the room waiting atop.
“M’lord! There’s no hurry! Huff-huff… is there?”
Running up the stairs, he caught a small glimpse of Kodal entering the room right at the palaces top “Get your head together M’lord! Sometimes I just don’t get you.” He snapped.
Hisma tried to pick up his slow pace, running up the swirling stairs, getting dizzy, tasting metal, legs beginning to feel loose and unsupported. Finally reaching to the top of the stairs, Hisma burst into the room that Kodal had disappeared into. As he opened the doors, the sunlight shone sharply, so bright that Hisma was blinded for a brief moment.