After I finished taking a bath, I started to unpack the remaining clothes I had in my luggage. I unfolded each shirt, grabbed the hangers from the spacious closet, and hung them up.

There aren’t that many clothes I brought; I brought enough clothes for four to five days. Enough clothes to last me the week. There’s even a suit that my mother picked out for me in a garment bag. She had packed it in her luggage and already hung it my closet.

I don’t have an issue with dressing up, but if given the choice to wear formal clothing or regular clothing, I’d choose the most comfortable; which, for me, is regular clothing.

‘Though, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?’

I sensed mana from someone walking down the hall. I continued to unfold the clothes and hang them up, but the closer the presence got, the more familiar it became. It was my mother. She stood in front of my door now and knocked rhythmically.

“Albus, are you up?”

Judging by how the sun is steadily rising, and doesn’t look to be setting anytime soon, I’m assuming it’s on the earlier side of the day; perhaps an hour or two before noon.

“Come in.” I answered, pulling out a pale grey tunic from my luggage.

My mother opened the door, eyeing the room as she walked closer to the bed, centered exactly in the middle of the room. She plopped herself on the bed and spoke wearily. “The rooms are so large, it’s nauseating.”

“Right?” I replied, hanging up the tunic. “I don’t remember their house having been this large. How’d you even get accompanied with people this rich?”

“It’s your father who knew them. But I am good friends with Mrs. Allen.”

“Mhh.” A sly grin rose from my lips. “I’m surprised you have friends.”

“How cruel!” My mother exclaimed, giggling.

From there, my mother told me the story of how my father became acquainted with the Allen’s.

*****

Mr. Allen is a humble man with virtuous ambitions, so I was told. He wasn’t a noble growing up, but he held incredible strength; he’s a prodigy with fire magic, ranked grade 1 at a young age. My father came to know him in the last great war, though my mother didn’t disclose any information of the circumstances that led to them being acquainted. Mr. Allen, or, to make things less complicated, Ralph; his actual name, worked his way up the military ranks and became closer with a woman named Sara.

Sara is the daughter of the head of the Noble family, Allen, and is its heir. Sara and Ralph fell in love, thus marrying him into the Allen Family… tis the creation of the new Allen Family!

My mother explained more to me about the Allen family and how they work close with the Darcy government.

In regard to what exactly? Why might the Allen family work so close to the Darcy government, what do they do, and why are they one of the top noble families… I don’t know. I think the Allen family dabbles in a bit of everything, but honestly I have no idea.

My mother withheld a fair amount of information, but regardless, Mrs. Allen is the businesswoman in the relationship between the two, both beautiful and strong willed. Last time I saw her, she had long amethyst colored hair and crystal blue eyes; a special trait passed down from the Allen family apparently. She was a truly beautiful women. She’s so beautiful that I remember her vividly, even though I was only a toddler.

I suppose you could say Mrs. Allen is the breadwinner in the family while Mr. Allen acts as a military leader. So, in my imagination, I imagined Mrs. Allen as some kind of tycoon, and Mr. Allen as a highly skilled military general to ease my confusion a little bit.

It’d make sense, is what I thought. And it would, right? I mean putting a tycoon and a military general together as man and wife would surely make their family a very powerful one, no?

*****

I felt another familiar presence – a much more dominating presence, but completely harmless, approach my door, as Tadashi peaked his head out from the right side of the doorway.

My mother smiled. “Good morning, Tadashi.”

“Good morning mother, Albus.” Tadashi walked into view, wearing a white linen long sleeved shirt. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really…” My mother answered, staring at the roof as if thinking. “Ahh! Do the both of you want to go roaming the manor?” She reminded of a little kid that wanted to sneak out at night without getting caught.  

“Sure, but is that fine?” Tadashi asked, leaning against the doorway.

“I don’t think it’s too big of a deal.” I answered, still unpacking my clothes. “I mean, I’m ok with it at least.”

“Yeah, because this isn’t your house, idiot.” Tadashi uncouthly retorted. “Isn’t it rude to go lurking without permission?”

“Not if we don’t open random doors it isn’t. Besides, from what I’ve heard our family is well acquainted with the Allen family.” I smirked, closing my now empty suitcase. “I’m sure they won’t mind our cockroach-like curiosity.”

“Mhh, mhh,” My mother nodded. “I agree with Albus.”

Tadashi sighed, tired of our careless attitudes. “I guess… wait. What about our father?” Tadashi asked, warily checking around the room.

“He’s working with Mr. and Mrs. Allen to setup the party for tomorrow.” My mother answered, standing up and unfurling her long black skirt that creased from having sat for a while.

I joined her, putting on the footwear near my bed, and walking towards the door. “Let’s go then.”

Walking on the complex styled carpets – that reeked of money by the way – through the halls that seemed to perpetually continue. The walls, roof, and doors were all identically white, giving me the perspective that the halls were without an end, an incessant path. That this hall was all that there was, and all I could ever travel through, regardless of the distance ventured. However there was an end, distinguished by the art that lined the halls, stopping before the corner until continuing down the next turn; from the massive paintings of abstract, but thought provoking art, to incredibly detailed marble sculptures of beautiful women and men alike posing.

Art was everywhere to be found.

Our eyes are filled with wonder, as the only source of sound that bounced off the echoing hall were our enraptured ooh’s and ahh’s. None of us are connoisseurs regarding art, I mean one of us would rather have the true intent of an artist spoon feed their thoughts with words etched on a piece of paper (Tadashi), another would much rather tease our father (my mother), and another would much rather journey to obtain a sense of freedom (I wonder who that is?), but we could all acknowledge the Allen’s taste in art.

We continued to walk through the vast, seemingly trove filled halls, when something caught my eye outside the tall window beside me.

It wasn’t as though this thing was so wondrous that it was noticeable to all. It wasn’t an eyecatcher. This thing wasn’t drab either, though. It was vivid, sure, but it was surrounded by other vividness that shined unbelievably brighter. The thing that caught my eye is in the garden, the garden that homes an array of incredibly vivid colors; scarlet red, lotus pink, ocean blue; sky blue, but the color that caught my eyes, as if mystifyingly taking control of them, is a lavender; almost like it was perfectly natural for this lavender to have drawn my gaze, like steel to a magnet. However, it was a lavender much dimmer than the other colors that shrouded the garden.

The flowers shined like jewels.

It was like the sun shined on this garden of jewels, glistening and lustrous, but amidst them, there laid one lavender jewel dimmer than the others. So why is it that this thing, of all the other lustrousness that lies in the garden, caught my sight?

To answer, it is because the other jewels were competing out of envy, yes, out of envy against this singular dim jewel. The other jewels are much brighter, and this singular jewel is dimmer than the others, so why were they envious of this other jewel? Why is it that these jewels swayed along the wind, dancing an enchanting dance, all for the purpose of easing their envy?

Allow me to further detail this thing – this alien lavender: a small, petite girl wearing a plain white gown, lavender mid-back length hair; long black eyelashes topped off with beautiful, round, diamond blue eyes. Her nose neither snubby nor perky; having obtained something like perfection; thin rosy lips; her body parts looked to have been carefully chosen as to work in harmony; complimenting each other as though they aren’t of the same person, as they were placed on a foundation of rich ivory, fitting perfectly within the board of skin. And there she laid serenely on a bed of white tulips, cloud gazing. Yes, instead of watching and gawking at the gardens ostentatious beauty, this girl, instead, chose to watch the stark white clouds above, drifting slowly by the little wind pushed east, and she did so whilst laying down on a bed of white morose tulips. To top it all off, like the cherry to the cake, she did all of this with a smile.

Superficial, naïve, ignorant –

A genuine smile.

The flowers are begging for her attention, or perhaps her validation. Her validation of their beauty: they want to be seen as genuine beauty, a normal beauty, a quotidian and mundane beauty, and they wish for her appraisal, but she ignores them unaware of their begging.

Within her diamond blue eyes, connected to her very soul, I saw the reason my eyes magically switched to her.

Her:

It was her negligence. Her unawareness. Her ignorance. A person within reality, living in their secluded little world of white lies – a glasslike world that decays to the touch of the outside, a person who see’s such a world as the truth –

Its alien beauty.

I gazed a little longer as we walked by each window that was lined proportionally in the long white walls when Tadashi leaned over, curiously looking out the window with me. He faintly smiled “That’s Iris.”

I didn’t speak as we walked away.

I smiled.

‘She’s still as beautiful as I remember.’