Chapter 4:

  The final delivery of the day was to the orphanage. In his last life, he had begun accompanying his mother on trips to the institution only after his first break from the academy. He’d been closer to 11 years old by then. That was more than three years in the future from now. He had, of course been aware before that time of the many House Rodrigo initiatives for the poor and underprivileged. Charity work along with balls, galas, and socials had been some of several mandatory ‘socialization’ duties that the young and talented scion of House Rodrigo had been burdened with. Visiting the orphanage, however, was one of the few tasks that he'd neither resented nor dreaded being asked to do.

  At the door, he greeted the orphanage director, who met him with none of the personal recognition in his eyes that he reserved for Aria, but all of the warmth that he knew the man held for children. The unguarded kindness in his eyes and ease in his demeanour did not prevent the man from offering Eli a deep bow of respect. Despite not recognizing Eli, he obviously recognized the insignia stitched nearly imperceptibly onto the lapel of his surcoat.

  Eli's eyes had narrowed at the gesture before a small but genuine smile had bloomed onto his face. He hadn't truly remembered the man being this perceptive. In all honesty, he didn’t remember this man much at all as most of his interactions had been with the man’s adult daughter, and the deputy director of the orphanage, however Eli’s lack of real interaction didn't necessarily mean he couldn’t start getting to know him better. All he really knew of the orphanage director was that he had been exceedingly competent at his role. However, something in his core told Eli that mere ‘competence’ was underselling the man’s value.

  He'd need competent people in the coming years. Finding competent people who were also compassionate and trustworthy was so rare that Eli couldn’t pass up the opportunity to at least try and work something out with the man. This in mind, Eli decided he would petition his mother to begin his orphanage visits earlier this time around. It wasn't like age had a monopoly on philanthropy after all. Or on recognizing value where it was left to be found.

  ~

  When the deliveries were finished, a resounding sigh escaped Eli as he raised his face to the sky. He noted the position of the sun and dragged his hands over his face. Then he turned to Aria and grinned. It was a crooked thing that had her hesitantly smiling in return. He looked at her, the sun illuminating half of her face, her expression so open and earnest.

  “Worth it,” he said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’m going to be in so much trouble when I get back.”

  “What, why? It wasn’t me, was it?” She asked, her smile fading. Eli shook his head and groaned, grin still plastered on his face.

  “It’s because I’m missing my lessons.”

  Her eyes widened. “You missed your lessons… to help me?”

  “Yep.” He laughed, carefree.

  Aria stared, half-appalled, half-bewildered. And then, against her every instinct, she laughed too.

  Eli felt it then, with both of them being so in tune with each other. Her power stirred faintly rippling in concert with her joy. The frequencies of their energies resonating in a sympathetic echo that both energized and delighted Eli. His grin softened into something more grounded and infinitely sweeter. He’d missed this.

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  From the first time they’d met even in his old life, their energies had been so compatible that they’d nearly fallen into friendship. It had always been so effortless with Aria. By then, of course, she’d been contracted to a 2nd step house, and there was nothing he could do about it. However, that hadn’t stopped them from being friends. He didn’t think anything could have.

  The pair were silent when they reached the butcher’s residence. The closer they’d gotten to the place the more Aria seemed to shrink in on herself. It was like watching a flower wilt in real time, or hearing a beautiful melody fade out with discordant notes. Eli hated it. Hated leaving her here where she was so obviously distressed. In that moment, she was the starry sky, all her light fading away as the storm rolled in.

  Mr. Cleaver stepped outside, his arms folded over his broad chest, and Eli didn’t know that Aria’s shoulders could slump even further, but she seemed determined to show him. The large man had mean eyes the same hazel as his daughter. His lips were thin and pinched. He might have been handsome, once Eli thought. But cruelty, and something deeper had carved ugliness more thoroughly into him than age and hard living ever could. Eli felt it was somehow wrong that his appearance wasn’t as unfortunately weathered as his personality. Time did him more favours than the man deserved if Aria’s reaction is anything to go by.

  “Who’s the boy?” The first words out of Cleaver’s mouth were sharp. He hadn’t actually taken more than a fleeting glance at Eli. If he had perhaps, he would have noticed his fine dress, or the emblem on his chest. Maybe it would have tempered his attitude… Or perhaps not. Either way, while ignorance could be forgiven, the slight had to be addressed.

  Eli stepped forward, shifting slightly to shield Aria from the man’s view. His tone was flat and even when he introduced himself. “You’re speaking to Young Lord Elijah Rodrigo, Mister…” He held the last word deliberately. Sure, his voice had the childlike tenor of any boy his age, but his tone held the unmistakable authority granted to him by his position, and the presence gained through centuries of experience.

  Cleaver stiffened, his jaw visibly clenching and unclenching. There was obvious hostility the man was poorly masking, but the attempt at civility was made, and so Eli was forced to stay his hand at the near disrespect.

  “Mr. Cleaver,” the man said at last, sketching a bow just deep enough to fit propriety before standing up. Eli did not incline his head. “I’m this one’s father,” he continued after a silent beat.

  Father, Eli thought coldly. A very generous interpretation of the word if this brief interaction was anything to go by.

  After the tense exchange Eli was forced to acknowledge that preventing Aria from returning wasn’t really an option at this point. Well, kidnapping certainly was an option, but the consequences would be quite inconvenient at this juncture. He watched as Cleaver herded a morose Aria inside under the butcher’s watchful eyes, and rough guidance. She turned to face him as she went, her bright eyes catching Eli’s over her shoulder.

  “Don’t forget you are coming over for breakfast tomorrow,” Eli said evenly. Had he discussed it with her yet? No. Would he make it happen anyway? Absolutely. It was as much a promise for his new-old-friend as it was a declaration to the man.

  Cleaver froze, bowed stiffly again, mumbled an “of course Young Lord.” Then shut the door before anything else could be said.

  As Eli turned, he caught Aria peeking through the wooden shutters. Something unreadable in her expression. Eli met her gaze head on, smiled, and then turned away.

  He reached out with his senses as he walked, sending a pulse of barely perceptible spatial mana radiating outwards in a directed cone focused on the Cleaver house. It would be risky to do this if he wasn’t more than sure there was nobody awakened in the house.

  In his mind, a clear enough picture of the Cleaver residence was burned into his memory. A single bright spot blazed more radiantly than anything else, and he couldn’t stop himself from focusing his perception, feeling the faint, familiar press of her power against his.

  Looking once more into the sky, he lamented on the nature of time, and on the truly formidable excuse he was going to have to come up with before he got home. He reminded himself to look on the bright side. He was about to have an excellent opportunity to train his self healing on himself during the absolute thrashing he would receive from his parents. Training that night was going to be interesting.