That night, Vermon summoned the servants responsible for Orb into his library to report to him. So Riecho informed her master that Orb did not sleep in his usual corner; instead, he had slept against the disciplinary pillar in front of the window without eating his dinner. As for Huhu, he confirmed that Orb was sleeping where the tree had been, which he could see while patrolling the room from the outside and looking through the window.

That did not surprise Vermon, who listened to their brief reports patiently, for he had doubts about Orb’s condition and thought he was being sulky and ill-tempered because of the punishment to which he had been subjected earlier in the day.

Vermon, therefore, instructed them not to wake Orb up in the morning and to relieve him of all his duties. He also stressed the importance of keeping the door of the isolation room locked while keeping an eye on the open window. Vermon also warned Huhu not to prevent Orb from using the washroom if he wanted to use it.

“Please, master, let me feed him his medicine,” Riecho requested.

“You are referring to the antidote,” he paused for a minute. “Fine. I’m not going to give it to him; you’re going to do it. Figling[1] should help you change his back bandages.” Vermon looked at Riecho directly and asserted, “You must report to me immediately after each dose, understand?”

“Yes, master,” Riecho responded quietly. However, she was secretly relieved that her master would no longer torment poor Orb because of the drug.

When the servants left, Vermon slowly leaned back on his hands and stretched his long legs under the low desk. Looking around the dimly lighted room, he scanned the bookshelves against the wall and thought of an idea.

He might like it here, he grinned.

***

So the following day, Orb was left to sleep undisturbed until noon, when he woke up in dismay at Riecho’s voice calling his name gently but repeatedly.

“Orb, wake up. Orb, you must wake up to take your medicine,” she said.

Orb sat up with difficulty, as sleeping for a whole night on the hardwood floor had made every muscle in his body ache. He rested his back against the pillar behind him while Riecho spoke slowly, “You overslept. It’s noon already.”

As soon as he comprehended what she was saying, he turned his eyes to her in agitation. “God! I overslept and didn’t do any task...” he exclaimed.

“Calm down, Orb. My master instructed us not to wake you up for work. He relieved you of your duties today,” she did not smile but looked relaxed.

“Why? Does he intend to punish me?” Orb was about to get up, even though he looked unwell. He wanted peace for at least one day by avoiding any traps Vermon set for him. However, Riecho held his arm gently.

“I don’t think so. Calm down, please.”

“Look, I do not fear him. I am just exhausted. I didn’t mean to oversleep ...”

“Orb, my master has relieved you of work for this reason. He believed that you were exhausted after yesterday’s occurrence,” Riecho saw Orb’s lips part slightly as he listened with furrowed eyebrows. “He also assigned me to give you your antidote. So would you please take it without putting me to serious inconvenience?”

“Master is unusually lenient with you, so accept his generosity for today, will you?” Huhu’s irritated voice came from outside the door.

“Mind your own business, Huhu!” Riecho scolded the noisy boy.

“I shall not cause you any inconvenience, Riecho,” Orb immediately promised.

Eyeing the tray of medicine, which was put aside on the ground for a while, Riecho smiled and said, “Thank you.”

She pulled the tray of his medicine closer to mix the drug. “I came to your room three times today to wake you up and give you your medicine, but I couldn’t. I don’t know what is happening with you, but you looked tired.”

She finished dissolving the white powder with water, handed Orb the bowl, and continued, “And as the time passed, my master scolded me for being overindulgent to let you oversleep and not giving you the medicine in time.”

“My apologies. It won’t happen again,” Orb genuinely apologized. He then sipped the dose prepared by Riecho slowly and cautiously, without delay or objection, and was left alone again with another tray of food he barely touched.

Orb remained locked up until the afternoon when Riecho came to the room and prepared the second dose for him, which he took quietly and without inconvenience. During the entire time, Vermon did not come to the isolation room and did not try to approach him stealthily in any way.

Huhu and Figling were doing the job on behalf of their master, for they took turns watching the open window and observing what Orb was doing inside. Sometimes, Orb rested in his usual corner without paying attention to them. At other times, he sat facing the window without exchanging comments with them or asking them what they were doing outside the window. They reported that to their master, who listened patiently but refrained from making any commentary about his slave.

***

In the evening, when Orb finished taking the third dose and was left alone, Vermon appeared in the middle of the room. For some time, he stood there without saying a word, observing Orb, who stood in front of the open window and watched the dark sky with a sorrowful face.

The two did not move until Vermon walked slowly across the cold room as if announcing his presence and said, “I was thinking about building a fireplace here.”

Orb did not move as Vermon stood next to him and said, “It would be nice and warm to spend time reading in front of a fireplace, with no other sound you could hear but the crackle of the burning wood.”

Orb’s eyelashes trembled lightly at that moment. He liked the thought. Imagining the feeling of warmth and coziness of reading by the fireplace brought him a sense of tranquility despite the threatening presence of Vermon.

Yet that tranquility was shattered the moment Vermon spoke again. “I mean, it would be nice if you were obedient,” he said casually. Orb did not turn and continued watching the sky, thinking that Vermon was just trying to drag him into a new game of abuse.

When Vermon did not get any reaction from Orb, he added, “But I remembered it was a disciplinary room, so I changed my mind.”

Orb’s heart contracted to hear Vermon nonchalantly saying that since all the suffering Orb had endured was caused by him. So he chose to remain silent. Meanwhile, Vermon himself was unaware of what Orb was feeling and thinking.

He isn’t in a good mood, and I cannot help not noticing it. Vermon felt uneasy about this. He disappeared for a fraction of a second and appeared again next to Orb, holding the two books he kept in the corner where he used to sleep.

“While we are on the topic of reading, would you like me to read for you?” Vermon genuinely smiled as he waved a book in each of his hands. Orb, however, turned to him questioningly.

“Why?”

Vermon froze for a second, feeling a mix of shock and a little irritation, before placing one of the books on top of the other and with his free hand, he grabbed Orb’s arm, and both disappeared from the room.

Orb felt strange. The cold air that enveloped him earlier had stopped, and a very antique, stuffy smell of paper, wood, and dampness hit his nose. He felt warm and heard the distant crackling of wood somewhere around him. Realizing that Vermon was still grabbing his arm, he questioned, “What happened? What did you do?”

“I teleported you to my private library,” Vermon responded proudly as he released his grip on Orb’s arm. He watched Orb stand silently, astonished at the realization of Vermon’s moving him from the isolation room to his own library.

“Aren’t you happy about the change of scenery? I brought you to your favorite place!” Vermon added, scanning Orb’s face in the dim light with a smile.

This was the second time Orb had experienced teleportation or the feeling of disappearing from one place and appearing in another in the Uthusian way. Orb vaguely recalled the fateful night of his enslavement when Vermon teleported him from Awa Temple to the riverbank.

In its swiftness and smoothness, he thought this ability worked like the blinking of one’s eyes; one would hardly feel inconvenienced by the speedy move. He also realized that the Uthusians could move others with them at will by merely touching them.

Still standing in his place opposite Vermon, Orb was looking at nothing in particular. The chamber was rather dark at that time of the night, illuminated only by small glass lamps inhabited by Dopteira butterflies and distributed inside square-shaped niches in the chamber’s four walls.

In the middle of the chamber, there were five shelves containing a variety of books and manuscripts. Opposite the door, there was a small low desk with a large red cushion behind it.

“Why don’t you explore it? This chamber is quite organized and with minimum furniture to stand in your way, but watch for the low desk behind you,” Vermon spoke earnestly.

“Why are you talking to me like I’m blind?” Orb did not raise his voice but sounded irritated.

Vermon overlooked his reaction, moved back toward the wall, and stood by the closed window to allow Orb the space to explore the place. Vermon was strangely patient and reluctant to physically assault Orb, who seemed off since last night.

He watched Orb cautiously proceed forward with his hands feeling the walls. He was alarmed as he accidentally touched one glass lamp placed inside a niche. He also kept a distance when he sensed the heat and heard the intense crackling of wood from the fireplace.

When Orb reached the shelves, he stood there feeling the leather spines and hardcovers of books with both hands. Vermon could tell that his night guest enjoyed the musty smell of papers because he deeply inhaled them as he leafed through a few random books and buried his face there for some time.

***

This was the place that Orb wished to enter a few days ago to search among the books for the secrets of the Uthus Seal so that he could free himself and escape the dominance of Vermon. However, his heart was aching as he wondered who would help him select the titles of books. Who would read their contents for him without pestering him or considering that a favor?

Orb believed that Vermon would not allow him to enter the place again or use his books, yet he wanted to try his luck at getting Vermon’s permission.

“Can I come over here every day?” Orb asked quietly as he held one of the books in his hand and looked in front of him.

“Why?” Vermon questioned, secretly satisfied.

“I’d like to read.”

Still standing in his place, Vermon crossed his arms and responded, “Slaves should not neglect their duties to engage in work that doesn’t serve the interests of their master.”

“I’ll read in my free time,” Orb asserted, clutching the book to his chest.

“And who’s going to read for you?”

“I—will ask Jerboa,” Orb hesitated.

“Do you think Jerboa will leave his master to serve you?” Vermon smirked.

“He’s my friend,” Orb wet his lips and added, “He will help me, not serve me.”

That irked Vermon, who straightened up and walked slowly across the room to where Orb was standing. When Vermon faced Orb, he said with quite an authoritative tone, “This won’t do. I won’t allow you.”

“What If I asked one of the servants to—”

“I SAID NO,” Vermon cut him off with a sharp tone that stung him a little. Orb imagined the shadow of Vermon grow at that moment, his angry eyes wide open and his mood about to turn sour.

“So will you read for me?”

“Of course not,” Vermon snapped but immediately regretted that and wanted to correct himself. Yet Orb was faster when he questioned him quietly, looking confused.

“Why did you bring me here, then?”

“Err—just to let you see the place,” Feeling Orb’s words like a slap on the wrist, Vermon responded without thinking. When he eyed Orb holding a book to his chest, he added, “The books here are not for you, anyway.”

No. This is not what I wanted to say. Damn it!

Feeling flustered at himself and the nonsense he was spouting, Vermon snatched the book from Orb’s hand, put it back in place, and yanked Orb by his elbow away from the bookshelf.

He led him to where the desk was and forced him to sit on the floor. It annoyed Vermon that Orb was not fighting back or saying anything. He allowed Vermon to pull him around the place and practice his authority like always.

Sitting to his left, Vermon placed the two books of Akinos on the desk and said, “You are not allowed to touch my books. However, I will allow you to read the Crown Prince’s books since he lent them to you.” With his fingers, he tapped the surface of the first book. “I would never disrespect his wishes.”

Orb looked at Vermon and asked a question that hid some of his tension and anxiety, “Did you bring them here?”

“I brought them with me from the isolation room. Can’t you see?” Vermon mocked. “Shall I read for you tonight?”

“Why am I worried? What do you intend to do?”

“What do you mean? What do I intend to do? The two books are on the desk, and I’ll read them to you, of course! Do you think I’m illiterate? Or that I’ll hit you with them?”

Vermon grabbed one of the two books and questioned, “Hmmm, The Complete History of the Descendants of Uthus. Why would you want to know about our history?” He stared intently at Orb’s neck.

“No specific reason,” Orb replied quietly.

“I must cut your nails. Look at you! What have you done to your neck!” Said Vermon suddenly as the bright red scratches on Orb’s neck caught his eye.

Orb flinched. He recalled the night when Vermon tore his bandages and clearly told him with vicious mockery to rip his neck and that he likes it when Orb bleeds[1]. Orb believed that even though Vermon did that because he was angry at that time, the fact of his being aggressive by nature was undeniable. However, Orb was unsure whether Vermon derived pleasure from the pain and resistance he got from Orb or others. He could not ask Vermon that for fear of starting a new confrontation with him.

“That’s because you removed the bandages and didn’t give me the ointment,” Orb contented himself with this casual response.

“You don’t need the ointment. I’ve decided it, and my decision is irreversible, understood?” Vermon decided firmly.

There was a moment of silence. Sitting on both knees, Orb shifted his body uncomfortably and stretched his legs a little to the side, but it seemed to Vermon that he was struggling with the space and fearing that he might touch Vermon.

“You can stretch your legs in front of you, beneath the desk,” Vermon suggested.

“It is fine,” Orb was hesitant.

“It is not! I order you to stretch your legs now!” Vermon demanded.

 Vermon quietly held the desk with both hands in the air, hoping that Orb would not notice. When Orb slowly and cautiously stretched his legs, believing that he had placed them under the desk, Vermon put the heavy piece of furniture with both books back as slowly and carefully as possible.

“Why— did you move the desk?” Orb had his doubts while staring in front of him.

“What? I did—not!” Vermon picked the book again, and nervously added, “You should not trust the poor vision of your left eye in the dark.”

“…”

***

Another moment of silence followed.

“Aren’t you going to read for me?” Orb asked cautiously.

Vermon glanced at him, then opened the book’s first page, saying, “You did not answer my question. Why would you want to know our history? I thought you were going to look for a book that would prescribe medicine for your partial blindness.”

“...”

After a few seconds of silence, Orb swallowed hard as he fixed his eyes on Vermon. “I still can see,” he said slowly, “So far I see you as an obstacle that gets in the way of my freedom.”

Vermon’s eyes widened in astonishment as soon as he heard Orb’s outspoken insult. “‘An obstacle’ you say?” He stared hard into Orb’s face.

“I’m glad that you see me as something,” Vermon mocked as he noticed beads of sweat coating Orb’s upper lip and forehead, “Fear not. I will not hit you, but you will never get rid of me,” He smirked.

Orb, who expected to be struck by the heavy book, was startled by the sound of the pages turning roughly. “You don’t have to treat other people’s property roughly. What are you doing?” He sounded worried.

“Shut up! I’ll read for you,” Vermon said levelly, his eyes intent on one particular page.

Orb thought that Vermon, despite his savagery, was trying to distract him by bringing him to his own private library and reading something for him, either because he felt guilty about what he did to him the previous day or pity for Orb’s deteriorating vision.

Orb also was aware that Vermon disliked the idea of Jerboa coming to his home and reading books for him. He knew no apparent reason for it other than Vermon’s being possessive and disliking others to approach his slaves. Moreover, when Orb thought about Vermon accepting the Crown Prince’s favor of hosting Orb during his illness, he believed that Vermon did that out of courtesy to His Highness.

“Historians stated that when the commander of the Uthusian battalion descended the land of Garlabardi, he surrounded it for 100 days until its people surrendered and opened its only gate. When the commander entered the city, he destroyed its forts, houses, and all the thirty-three wells of the city. The great commander abandoned the land after burning 10,000 of the city’s inhabitants and hundreds of thousands of livestock ...”

So Vermon began to read that page all of a sudden while holding the book with one hand and leaning back with the other. He read quickly and sounded scuttling across sentences to get to a particular piece of information. Orb sighed, wishing to have enough energy to withstand Vermon’s constant provocations.

Orb’s curiosity to know the book’s content was piqued and he proceeded to stop Vermon. “You are reading a new chapter Jerboa never read to me. Would you please reread the last part?” Orb requested.

Vermon stopped reading as soon as he heard the word ‘please’ coming out of Orb’s lips for the fourth time since he returned home. He lifted his eyes from the book and feigned annoyance to conceal his feeling of euphoria, in which he had become convinced he could conquer the defiant Orb.

“Again? Why?” he asked.

“Your reading is too fast, and I cannot follow you.”

“That’s because you’re stupid!” Vermon was harsh and realized that too late again. Looking down at Orb, he saw an expression on his face he could not understand; for a while, Orb’s lips parted a little. There was definitely a look of disappointment on his pale face. Vermon thought.

Orb, who was looking at Vermon, said nothing afterward. Vermon, on the other hand, felt angry for allowing himself to say something he did not intend to and for Orb’s receiving that insult without fighting back. Hence, to distract himself from that disappointed look on Orb’s face, Vermon proceeded to read very slowly.

By the third page, Vermon stopped reading completely, closed the book, and carelessly cast it on the desk. “How boring!” He yawned. “To read books slowly is killing me!”

Orb was unsure whether Vermon was trying to annoy him or express himself bluntly.

“I feel a little remorseful for suggesting reading to you!”

Hearing this, Orb believed that Vermon regretted wasting his precious time reading for a useless slave he hated so much.

He felt hurt because of Vermon’s irresponsible words. He was already scared of losing sight in his left eye, and, consequently, his ability to read books himself. He was also scared of living his life a completely blind, useless, and hated man in this household.

Orb was inwardly trying his best to calm himself.

“I’m seriously thinking about forbidding you to read,” Vermon straightened up and took Orb by the elbow, “This is not what a slave should do. This is not what a master should do. What was I thinking? I must have gone mad!”

Vermon abruptly teleported himself with Orb back to the cold isolation room, released his elbow and quickly stood up. Meanwhile, Orb knew that he was teleported back the moment Vermon touched him, and the cold floor beneath him touched the thin fabric of his pants.

He looked up at Vermon and was unable to say anything. Being overwhelmed by that feeling of despair again, he thought he heard Vermon’s voice in his head complaining, If I knew you liked to read books, I wouldn’t have kept you alive! I should’ve killed you a long time ago. Vermon did not say these words in reality, but Orb could infer them in his moments of silence, his clear boredom, and his taking Orb out of the library.

“Since you’re feeling better, I expect you to resume your duties tomorrow morning. Don’t be late,” Vermon spoke firmly. When he spotted Orb’s dinner tray by the door, he added with the same voice, “Riecho left your tray by the door. Have your dinner and go to sleep,” and instantly disappeared.

Orb did not react but realized Vermon’s absence only when he could not smell his fragrance. “Vermon?—Are you still here?—Vermon?” he called with a forlorn look on his face.

Some time had passed. Orb stood up and walked across the room to the door. Slowly, he sat on both knees and felt the floor cautiously until he found the tray. The small bowl was filled with cooked oatmeal again, but he did not complain. He held the spoon and started eating the cold food slowly, without feeling hungry.

Like always, he left his food unfinished and returned to his cold corner where he used to sleep, then lay down on his right side and drew his feet together before wrapping his trembling body with the only quilt there.

Thinking about what happened in the library, Orb hated Vermon for dragging him to the library to pretend to read for him. He hated him for confiscating Akinos’ books and preventing him from reading altogether. He hated Vermon for coming to him every time to find fault with anything he did or said and unjustly punishing him.

Orb felt a severe headache sweeping his head, along with tears sliding down his pale face, tears he did not bother to dry because they meant that he was painfully living with unending suffering, and all because of Vermon.

***

End of Chapter (25)

[1] Figling. [Pronunciation Guide: Fig-Ling (the g sound in both syllables is the initial sound in the English word gun)]