Chapter 4

Arthur stood dazed as the burning sensation on his cheek increased with intensity.

He had only been slapped by his mother once before, and had forgotten the pain that came with.

His mother's face was projecting an entirely different emotion now, one of frustration and anger, like Arthur had disappointed her greatly.

"You terrified us, boy!" She snapped, shocking Arthur even more as he'd never heard her voice raised.

Arthur tilted his head towards her feet, "I'm sorry, mother!"

Her face relaxed and a slight smile appeared on the corners of her mouth. She reached out her hand and lifted Arthur's chin so her gaze could meet his.

"Come," she said, seeming entirely different now, "Your father is in his studies, he will be glad to see you."

Arthur nodded and followed his mother into the manor, leaving behind the knight and hunters.

The inside of the manor had a very oppressive design. An architecture that removed the right to feel comfortable and at ease.

The walls were a dark oak, rough art carved into every surface, like a gruesome story was being told.

The floor was dark oak aswell, but had crimson rugs placed strategically throughout. The ceiling was high too, creating a sense of agoraphobia as you couldn't feel close to any surface of the room you were in.

The front room was very open in it's layout. Five doors were placed around the room: the entrance; two doors on the left and right walls leading to the left and right wings; and two doors on either side of the staircase directly opposite of the entrance.

The staircase lead to a fork that split to balconies that stretched from the back to front wall. Mutiple doors and bookshelves lined the walls on either balcony.

Most people, including Arthur's mother found the architecture abhorrent and terrible. But Arthur found it strangely relaxing. He believed that it was due to him being born in the very same building, giving him a deep connection to it.

Arthur followed behind his mother. They made their way up the staircase to the right balcony before walking to the hall way leading off to the ring wing and travelling down to the door at the end.

It was dark and opposing, almost warding off anyone who wishes to enter. There was gold lining the side of the door, creating a small sense of elegance.

Arthur's mother lifted her index and middle finger up to the door and knocked twice. She then twisted the copper door knob and pushed it open.

Arthur's father sat at his desk at the far end of the room, waiting for them.

He was dressed in a black attire, red lining his shoulders and cuffs in small strips. He wore a turtle neck too. Used for covering a long scar that went across his neck that he'd shown only once to Arthur.

His hair was a void black, long-ish and slicked back using a lot of hair gel. He also wore a thick beard, well groomed but seemed to be somewhat neglected. The beard allowed his mouth's expressions to be slightly hidden, adding a cold and mysterious nature to his father.

The study was empty with the exception of books filling the shelves. His father never explained to him why it was like this, but Arthur always thought he believed decorating his study with items was pointless, although he was never sure.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice monotone with no emotion escaping.

"F-fine," Arthur replied, surprised he would ask that.

His mother, standing between Arthur and the door felt the same.

"Teresa, please wait outside." His father commanded softly to his mother.

She nodded and left through the door.

"Do you know how long you've been missing, my boy?" He asked.

"One night, I think?" Arthur replied.

He raised his brow, "Be serious, Arthur."

"I am being serious! I fell down into that cave and it was too dark for me to escape!" He didn't want to tell his father about the pain, worried it may anger him as he already thought he's joking.

"I'm going to assume you lost track of time in the cave so I will tell you," he said coldly, "Three days."

Arthur flinched, never once thinking he had been unconscious for that long.

Again his father raised his brow at his reaction. He studied Arthur's appearance, noticing the dust and dirt on his clothes.

"You said you fell?" He asked.

"Yes."

"You don't seem to be hurt anywhere. How'd you manage that?" He asked, suspicion echoing through his voice.

Arthur again flinched at his father's words, "Lucky... I-I guess." He said nervously.

He looked at his father's expression. He couldn't make out much but he seemed to accept that answer even if he didn't believe it.

"Very well, you may take your leave," he excuses him.

"Yes... father." Arthur nods timidly before turning to the door.

As he puts his hand on the door knob, his father calls out from behind. "Oh I almost forgot to mention. You will be returning to school on tomorrow. Can't have you missing out on your studies."

He sighs and leaves the room.

His mother, stood outside to the side of the door as she waited for Arthur to leave or for her to be called back in.

The last few days had been awfully stressful for her, terrified that she may never see her son again.

Everyday, she'd sit outside under the tree, waiting for Arthur to return.

Her stomach growled fiercely as she stood waiting. She hadn't eaten since she'd learnt he'd gone missing.

She watched Arthur leave her husband's study.

He passed her by, giving her a slight acknowledgement.

"I can run you a warm bath?" She asked him.

He didn't reply, only continued walking. A grey cloud hanging over him.

She noticed his right middle finger tapping the air. A sign she'd learnt to interpret as something bothering him.

Arthur and her husband, Henry's personalities often clashed with eachother. With one not being able to empathise with the other.

She knew that Henry probably treated Arthur like nothing had happened. She understood why he acted like that but it nevertheless irritated her all the same.

Arthur passed by the old oil paintings of his ancestors as he walked through the left wing to his room.

They all held an aura of superiority, like they were looking down at whoever viewed upon the painting.

As you went deeper down the hallway the older the paintings became. At the very start was Arthur's uncle, Jonan Kleinfeld.

Arthur looked the most like his uncle. Strong facial features like his jaw and cheeks. Big nose and sharply shaped eyes.

Other than his appearance and profession, he knew very little about his uncle. His parents would never tell him and never explained why.

Arthur arrived at his bedroom and entered inside.

The room was exactly how he left it before he went missing. His bed was unmade and covered in clothes and books.

The curtains were drawn. A singular candle stood by the window, wax almost fully used up after he'd forgetten to extinguish it.

He cleared away the mess that covered his bed and fell face first onto his pillow.

He was exhausted.

It was only about three o'clock but the journey back home and his conversation with his father took all the energy out of him.

That rejuvenated feeling he felt after waking up had completely dissipated. He felt similar to when you finish the short burst of energy after drinking coffee.

Arthur rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

His eyelids grew heavy, each blink increasing in length.

He rolled onto his side and before he knew it, he was back in the depths of the cave, experiencing that same moment of anguish. He felt the pain all over again, his insides screaming out in pain as that fire raged within him once again.