pg 90 - Crude maniacal laughterMature

I glance back to the polished crest coated in a fine layer of dust barely available for scrutiny. I see an embossed image of a wolf standing as if it is bowing with its one foreleg bent and its head angled toward the ground, its jaws clutching a sword. The words above it stand out in black outlined gold, saying 'Protection. Courage. Strength'. A horseshoe shaped wreath of two olive branches frames the bottom of the shield-shaped mantle topper.

"Andromache couldn't help Paris alone being an 'inferior' woman who was supposed to help a male blue-blooded prince in those times. Matters worsened when she heard of an Alterate, Achilles, who had been paid handsomely to join on Menelaus' side to battle the Trojans. Hektor rallied his forces and fought for her, leaving his wife and beloved infant son behind when he lost in an upfront confrontation with Achilles. His strength and fearlessness accompanied by his unfailing loyalty were noticed. They meant that his death led to him being a martyr to his son and soliders who survived the war. They went on to form the Hektor clan named after the hero, each joining and building it with wives of their own and continuing the lineage."

"Jeepers...and I thought my family was cool with a distant aunt from France somewhere in there" I say breathlessly, trying not to let my awe show while I remained cool as a cucmber. I extend a pointed hand to the decoration. "Why the wolf? I mean, most people go with lions or a fleur de lis."

He has a rare moment in which a grin breaks open on his usually neutral face, his white teeth flashing in the yellow-dyed lighting.

"The crest was designed at the same time as the creation of the clan with minor design adjustments over time. The wolf stands for protection, the ultimate job of honourable Fatalists. It is linked to the Roman story of Lupa, a wolf who cared for the abandoned twins Romulus and Remus by suckling and protecting them after their abandonment near a river. The motto which my family has lived by for generations is visible at the top but I'm not sure as to the purpose of the olive branches. Personally, I think they were just put there to make it look fancy..."

The dust motes swimming through the squares of sunlight on either side of the fireplace frame his face like some famous painting hanging in an art museum, causing those who would usually walk past most artworks to stop and admire the carefully portrayed high cheekbones and chiseled marble face instead of passing by.

I laugh, the sound accompanied by the crunch of faded thick fabric as I fall back onto the nearby couch. "Your family is just" I mutter out, feeling the cushions behind me shift as he takes a seat next to me. Picking up the book I discarded, he thumbs through it before placing it down on his flattened, palm-up hand.

I watch in amazement as the book gently floats up, whizzing over to where the 'diaries and other musty thoughts of old people' section of the library is. It comes to rest on a space in a shelf, fitting in like a coin into a slot machine. Aidan grins smugly, his body physically tensing beside me once the deed is done before resting his leaning frame on his knees with his bronzed arms.

"Very casual, what you just did there. Oh, the fun I would have if I could even remotely do stuff like that. I might even become the mischievous and trouble-making type with that sort of power." I give my crudest maniacal laugh, followed by a thrumming together of the tips of my fingers.

My efforts and sarcasm are rewarded with another minute grin from Aidan, causing my own mouth to twist up in a smile at the sight of it.

The End

204 comments about this story Feed