Shad

“Fetch me my coat young lad.”

He nodded without hesitation, or rather, without even thinking and hurried toward the place he had placed the visitor’s old garment on their silly clothes-rack. The coat seemed so used and antique he questioned himself as to why this person wanted to keep on wearing that thing. Seriously, with that rank he could obviously buy enough coats to keep himself warm for his remaining life instead. But no. Mister Royal Counselor preferred going around Castle Town showing people his reminder of what used to be a coat.
He would have asked him himself if he preferred on selling it, but doing so would make him seem rude (even if he was) and would get him and his Father in trouble with their superiors. His Father could even go back to working as a butler if he either uttered one word that was out of their place. Or (in his case) out of his role as the “coat-fetcher”. They were definitely not going back to earning naught but 10 measly rupees a day. So... being a “coat-fetcher” wasn’t as bad as being the shoe polisher from Chuggly’s snobby shop at Central Square. This would have to do.

“Hurry boy! I’ve got an urgent meeting in a few minutes back at the Castle. Wouldn’t want to be late, ey?” The stranger laughed at his own, bad joke and winked down at the young boy dragging the old coat. Next to the visitor stood a tall guy, brunette, and blue-eyed who glanced down at the little boy and with his expression gave him signs that he was dirtying the garment. The youngster, quickly realizing his error took the piece of fabric carefully and carried it with godly caution to his owner’s raisin hands.

“I’m sorry sir,” he babbled.

The elderly visitor clicked his tongue and placed one arm around the boy’s tiny shoulders “It’s okay lad. This old piece of skin needs a wash already anyway.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulders in a reassuring manner and placed the garment around his own, tall shoulders.

The boy kept looking down. He felt ashamed of himself. Back to shoe polishing it is then, he said to himself.

He visitor turned to the second adult and joined hands with him. “Well, Sir Books, it was a pleasure making business with you. I’ll see you at the Royal Library then.” He smiled warmly and seemed so friendly that the young boy almost fell for his kindness. His Father quickly did though. Books beaming with joy guided the elderly man to the exit of their crowded apartment and once he shut the door, the young boy was wise enough to speak.

“He couldn’t be any more obvious than that, Father.”

The adult smiled back at his frowning kid, “Seriously. Do you still not believe him?”

“Do I have a right to speak my opinions now that I’m not a shoe polisher but a royal ‘coat-fetcher’?”

Books simply laughed at his statement. “Do as you wish Shad.”

“I don’t trust that guy. He’s just too...”

“Convincing, gentle, funny, helpful, mild. You name it.” Replied the adult as he took two glasses from a counter above a book-crowded desk. Then he poured a red liquid on the container right and milk on the left.  

“... false.”

“Name it as you wish, Son, but now I’ll finally receive permit from the Royal Council to continue my investigation on the Sky People with the books from their library. I’m sure more clues can be found there.” He took a sip from his whisky, his eyes shimmering with passion on that subject.

“He hasn’t even asked them about it Father. That’s the meeting he’s going to right now.”

“True. But I’m sure good ol’ Auru is good enough to persuade those nosey, stock-up congressmen to allow me to check on their old books. Seriously, I doubt that they have even laid one eye on their pages oh so full mystery, adventure, and lore!”

The young boy sighed as he took his glass of milk, “Father, you’re letting it get to yourself again.”

Books snickered embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I can’t handle it. It’s just that I’m too excited. Finally our hard work is paying off! Our dream is coming to us!”

“...Your dream.”

“I’m sorry, my dream.” He corrected, not surprised by his child’s response. No flattery for the child huh? Boy, was sarcasm taking the better of him. He passed a slim finger across the glass’s surface and the vibration and pressure he placed unto the glass created small ripples to form on the stinking, crimson liquid’s surface and a tinkling sound reverberated from the container.

The adult stared down at the young boy who was playing tediously with the remaining milk inside his own glass. He looked back at his drink and smiled. “Now’s not the time to be worried about our conditions, how about a toast?”

“For what...?” muttered the kid, adjusting his enormous glasses.

“For us and for our future,” replied Books leaned toward his son with a ginger smile and stretched his glass toward the boy’s.

The youngster smiled shyly back at him and held out his own container, “For us.”

“And for the Sky Beings!”