Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Northstar

An enormous jet-black sun stained the azure sky. It's rays fell, spun, spewed, in waves of thin tendrils. Beautifully, without a single flaw, it radiated a pleasant heat on Ayil's face. "...Here again?" he said with nostalgia in his voice, glancing downward. 

A corpse with a bludgeoned face lay beneath him, his hands crimson with its lifeblood. If Ayil strained his ears, he could hear the words, "Please, Son..." escape the orifice that was once a mouth in a soft chant.

This infuriated Ayil, but contrary to his past actions of crushing the man's face further, he let out a deep breathe. "You no longer have any influence over me." Standing, he stared ahead, following the wavy white dunes. At the highest peak, stood Desoll confidently. "And you will never have any influence over me. Disappear."

The red-eyed silhouette vanished. 

Ayil sat back down, next to the corpse. His eyes twitched uncontrollably just by being near the effigy. The sky groaned softly, eyes—or what seemed to be white and black circles—bubbled in and out of existence on the sun's surface. 

"You don't belong up there," Ayil said, scooping a handful of white sand, then pouring it back to the ground; creating a soft, soothing noise. 

The sun twisted, churning on it's core.

"I'm afraid my words hold true," Ayil continued. "Might I add, you aren't supposed to be that majestic."

This time, it trembled furiously, flaring with hateful flames.

"Well," Ayil said, holding up a hand to shield his face, "the truth is ever so bitter. If you don't enjoy hearing it, send me out. I refuse to partake in this charade."

Silence. Then, cold darkness dripped from the sun's depths onto the heavens, engulfing the white desert.

           

Ayil woke to an gentle glow streaming into his bleary eyes. Moaning, he sat up, brain throbbing against his skull. 

He emerged from the silken bed, observing the room he found himself in. It was rather simple; furnished with the most essential items. However, it all held an excessive amount of splendor. 

Entering the washroom, Ayil twisted open the tap, filling the basin with water. He gulped down a few mouthfuls of water directly from the tap, then washed his sweaty hair and face. 

"Brilliant," he said, running a hand through his moist hair, inspecting his oral cavity. His teeth that had been rotting, gleamed a pearly white in a small mirror on the wall. "White magic of is what they call Taramancy, isn't it? Quite fitting. Though I wonder how I'll keep them that way."

A knock came. Ayil broke into a panic, he quickly rushed out to open the door, but to his surprise there was no one waiting. And it seemed his flatmates all had the same mysterious visitor.

"What's this?" Ayil asked, picking up the strange object on his doorstep. The silver cube was small enough to sit flatly in the middle of his palm, and had numerous black inscriptions; which formed a complex symbol spanning it's entire surface area.

The cube pulsed with a small light, rearranging it's shape into a pointy triangle. The process was so fast and smooth, Ayil couldn't help but think he imagined it. Then into a netted sphere, before switching to another form.

'Hello,' a small androgynous voice whispered shyly in Ayil's voice. 'I'm here to s-serve...'

'Not a whisper,' Ayil realised. It was more like each letter 'pulled' and 'pushed' on very specific and indescribable emotions to articulate a single word. 'What an... angelic way of communicating..." 

'Thank you.' On his palm, the cube morphed vibrantly; vibrating with a gentle hum. 'Please, tell me, what is your name?'

Ayil entered his room and leaned back on a chair. "I thought you were to serve me," he said, leaning back into the plush sofa. "Isn't it only natural the servant introduces themselves first?"

'My, ho-how abhorrent of me!' the cube deflated. 'Forgive me... As for a name... refer to me as Pae.'

"Pae, is it? Quite the cute name..." Ayil said, nodding appreciatively at the subservient attitude. "You can call me, Ayil."

'A moment please.' Pae contorted into intricate runic shapes for a few minutes. 'Master Ayil. Yes, indeed, you are here. May I explain my purpose?'

Ayil bobbed his head.

'Thank you. You see, I am a special tool created by the Mother,' Pae explained rather proudly. 'In my cognitive nexus, I have a schedule detailing the next three years of your life. My job is to keep tabs on you and make sure you follow this schedule.'

"Oh?" Ayil breathed. "By that you mean, you're my warden..."

Pae splayed out into thin blue, metallic petals. 'I would prefer it if you think of me as your devoted caretaker.' 

"As you please," Ayil said. He fell silent in thought for a long moment, his gaze sweeping the room. "Ah, I'm starving. As my caregiver, tell me, what am I to do to fill this chasm in my stomach?"

Pae made a wriggling motion, its form slightly arboreal. 'That is most excellent. We can immediately leave for the cafeteria, and perhaps even explore the premises—with necessary restraint, of course.'

Ayil unwinded from his chair, turning to the door. "I'm assuming you know the—" 

'Wait! You can't possibly leave wearing that! Mother, it has yellow stains around the pits...!'

Overwhelmed by the strong force pulling down at his mind, Ayil fell back into the chair. He subconsciously squeezed Pae, but it's hard edges simply made for dull thorns.

"... What was that?" he asked as his breathing steadied. "Never do that again!"

The small metallic fiend deflated at the harsh tone. 'P-please forgive me...'

"I suppose it can't be helped," Ayil said, sighing, and observing his clothes. Yes, they were a tiny bit filthy, mostly from sweat patches. But he didn't really mind that, or the smell. Besides, he abandoned the clothes Claire gave him in the white cube. "...What exactly would you have me do for clothes?"

Pae perked her numerous branch-like appendages up. Slowly, it made a repeating pattern by morphing into three types of irregular runes at different speeds. 'Well, with your permission I can tell you a lot of helpful things. How to acquire clean clothing is among them.'

"Huh. And where are these fabled things?" Ayil asked suspiciously, narrowing his brick red eyes.

Pae fell static. Only faint vibrations undulated from it. 'For now, Master Ayil, I'll tell you if you open that cabinet beside your bed. You'll find that it is not empty. Nothing really is.'

Ayil stood and pillage the cabinets,  drawers and cases within the room, only to find that the statement held true. He found not only clothes and toiletries, but miscellaneous stationery like paper.

"I've never heard of using sorcery to make clothes," Ayil said, amazed as he inspected the clothes he wore. It all fit comfortably, too comfortably, down to the boots.

Pae flew infront of his face, using flat disks spinning at high speeds to hover. The black inscriptions on it's surface constantly changing arcane symbols. 'It's not magic. Lord Desoll simply has an endless amount of wealth, and highly efficient aides. Shall we leave for breakfast? I will guide you.'

It buzzed past Ayil's face and stopped before the door. 

You are reading story Mother’s Northside Under at novel35.com

"...Let's."

Using the exit, that led directly to a very long set of constantly descending stairs; which ended with large gate leading straight outdoors, Ayil stepped outside. 

He smiled, taking a deep breath, and letting the cool air caress his skin and muss his shoulder- length hair. 

Pae buzzed loudly in the distance. 'Master Ayil?'

Shaking his head, Ayil strode along, noting the bizarre architecture of the building he just walked out of. Not just it, the four other buildings around the vicinity were all strangely designed.

Additionally, they were not built from timber or even stone, but a lustrous blue material that gently glistened with an ominous miasma. It smelled familiar, yet it did not, tickling a very specific part of Ayil's mind.

'Here we are!' Pae flew happily in circles. 'Just sit anywhere... the staff will bring you today's breakfast.'

Breaking away from his thoughts, Ayil took a seat on one of the tables close to the door. He surveyed the hall, which seemed large enough to accommodate atleast fifty people. It was empty, safe for the petit girl sitting alone in the middle area. 

Seemingly noticing his gaze, the girl looked up from her meal, and smiled innocently, waving her hand.

Ayil immediately averted his gaze, skin tensing with countless goosebumps. The girl... she smelled of nothing. It was completely different from the scent normal people carried, as though she had died centuries ago and there was nothing left of her corpse. 

Absolutely nothing.

'Just...what is she?' Ayil thought, nodding gratefully at the man who just brought him a platter of food—loafs of brown bread, warm soup, strings of meat, and water. 'I better not...get...invo...'

The girl stood, and suddenly approach him. She was about fourteen, maybe fifteen. Her long scruffy strawberry blonde hair swayed back and forth, matching the rhythm of the loose fitting white gown she wore. Sitting directly opposite him, the girl did not speak. Instead her bright green eyes were strictly trained on his food.

"Yes?" Ayil asked, exasperated after a few silent moments. He dipped a piece of bread into the bowl of soup, then brought it to his mouth. "Can I be of help, little lady?"

"Meat," she said sweetly, pointing at Ayil's platter. Curiously, four of the fingers on her right hand were missing. "Please?"

Ayil turned to Pae. "What, can't she ask more from the cooks?"

It made soft clicking sounds that sounded a little too much like the mating call of lika roaches. 'No, I'm afraid... Each of you only get one serving of a specific meal. One Breakfast. One Lunch. One dinner. Everyday.' It paused, flying around the strange girls head. 'But that doesn't mean you can't spare a little for the lady here. Mother says sharing food to one in need is the purest of acts. '

"Girl," Ayil said, picking up a strip of meat, "do you know when the last time I tasted real meat was? Four years ago."

The young woman fell silent, perhaps sensing Ayil wasn't done talking.

"I remember one day, I craved grilled beef so badly it burned my stomach. The filth I usually dined on, tasted even more pungent than usual that day," he said, chewing the meat, letting it's flavour fill his mouth. "So, just like you are doing now, I went out and begged an old man to spare me a taste after wandering into a festival. It was large city-wide celebration for the Eighteenth Emperors Coronation. The man, in his drunken stupor glanced at me once, then, for ruining his buzz, he—"

Ayil slammed his fist on the table loudly.

"He plunged his booted foot into the pits of my gut! Forcing me to spewed out the weeds and rat guts I downed minutes before on his friends shirt..." Ayil felt his face, it was smooth, free of scars. "I got what I deserved that day. How dare I ask someone for his hard earned food for nothing? That just isn't sane."

"I understand..." the girl said, her apathetic gaze sweeping up. "Then... please give me the rest of your meat, and I'll give you any meat I attain in the future for as long as you live."

Realizing he wasn't going to get rid of the strange girl by telling scary stories, Ayil pushed the platter to the middle of the table. "You're lucky this isn't my hard earned food," he said with a bitter smile. "Eat. And I'll be holding you up to your promise."

"You have my utmost gratitude," she said, slowly nibbling on a strip of meat. "My... my name is Eira, in case you were wondering."

"I was not. But if need be, you may call me Ayil."

Eira nodded, and they ate their breakfast in silence. Slowly, the cafeteria filled, and by the time Ayil food was finished, half of the tables were in use. 

"Thank you," Eira said, standing up. Just as she said, she only ate his meat and that was long gone. "I will take my leave now."

"Wait," Ayil said, preparing to leave for his room. "You're going to beg for more meat aren't you?"

A brief nod.

"I see," he said, letting his heavy gaze sieve the room. "Not that it's my business, but keep your distance from some of these people. Most of them are pretty normal, however, others... just smell wrong." Mentally he added, 'You're one of them.'

"Is that so?" Eira asked, slightly tilting her head. She hummed in thought. "I don't really understand... but I will keep that in in mind."

Then she was off to the table closest.

"Why did I say something so meddlesome?" Ayil murmured, whistling Pae over. He left the hall. "Well, if she dies, I can't collect my debt. I guess that's enough to spare her a few words."

Pae flew near his shoulder, chirping with synthetic cooing noise. 'Are we heading back already? Do you not want to explore the premises?'

"No," Ayil said, thinking briefly on it. "I would like to ask you a few questions in 'private' first..."

'Very well.' It transmitted, rotating it's base clockwise; the opposite direction of it's spinning disks.

In the room, Ayil brushed his teeth before collapsing on the bed. He groaned softly, the headache from when he woke up still persistent. 

"Pae," he mumbled face down, "what is my schedule? Tell me what exactly this place is and what I'm going to be forced to do."

It made small metallic ringing noises.

'That is a difficult query. I can't tell you about the scheduling until about thirty minutes before a specific appointment. As for what this facility is and what purpose it serves... it is a program Lord Desoll recently introduce to pick his most optimal Claw."

"Claw?" Ayil asked quietly, peeking towards Pae. It's surface tessellated with incomprehensible geometry and runes.

'A retainer of  sorts. To attain this position you must do one thing only...'

"I can guess," he said, closing his eyes to thought.

'Yes.' For the first time Pae's presence became cold in his mind. 'You must survive.'

You can find story with these keywords: Mother’s Northside Under, Read Mother’s Northside Under, Mother’s Northside Under novel, Mother’s Northside Under book, Mother’s Northside Under story, Mother’s Northside Under full, Mother’s Northside Under Latest Chapter