Saturday, October 3, 2015

Rusty's Story

I wanted to write a short story about Rusty, a minor character from The Spectra Unearthed (Keita's Wings book 1) but he was not cooperating. He did at least give this interview to little Mason Smelt.



Me? What do you want to know about me for? I haven’t left this place in forty years—nothing interesting happens to me. Sure, I’ve heard plenty, seen plenty, and I can tell you about those. Want to hear about your uncle’s escape from the dungeon he grew up in? What do mean, he’s already told you? Well, you’re not hearing anything more interesting than that from me.


Yes, that’s true, I haven’t always lived at the hidden palace. I started out in the capital city. I was the youngest son of the Nome king. Ha, didn’t know we’re related, did you? Yep, we’re… let me see… your father’s father’s father’s brother… oh, forget it. I wouldn’t want you calling me uncle anyway.


What do you mean, finish the story? I told you already I don’t have much of a story. My parents wanted to make sure they had plenty of spare princes, just in case, and so I ended up the youngest of six boys. And what do you know, every single one of them lived. Good for them, not so good for me. Some of mixed with the nobility. One bought a mine down south and became the richest of all of us… oh, the fights he had with your grandpa… great-grandpa… whatever… all about taxes and regulations and all sorts of big words. Nah, that wasn’t for me. I liked playing nobility sometimes, but all the time? I don’t think so. Now that was power. I could play nobility like the best of them, looking down my nose and talking big and wearing the right fashions. And inside I’m laughing my head off at the ridiculousness of it all. I could play servant pretty good too. Acted as Seven’s butler one day and he didn’t even notice the difference. Seven? That’s Clayton the Seventh. My oldest brother. You’re lucky they lost that tradition, eh? Want to be Tanner the second? Steiner the third? Oh, right… that is awkward… well, never mind.


Some other old geezer ran the hidden palace back then. Don’t remember his name at all, he was the kind of guy who didn’t do anything, just told everyone else how to do it. But when I was in my twenties, he passed away, and I saw an opportunity. To manage the palace would be perfect. I could play nobility in front of the visitors, a servant behind closed doors, and then have long quiet stretches without any visitors at all when I could be whatever I wanted. And the stories I hear! The people I’ve met! I tell you, this is the perfect job. Convincing my parents wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that. I couldn’t just outright ask, not them. You think your Pa’s bad with the formality, you should have seen mine! Tanner’s a cushion next to the old rulers. So I had to go about it very carefully, putting hints in all the right places, very carefully…


Wait a minute, what am I doing? Teaching you to manipulate your elders? Oh no, I don’t think so. Going to get me in trouble, that’s what you’re going to do. No, no, not another word. Not a one. Not unless you want to hear some other story. Want to hear about when I entertained a pair of Stygians under this roof? What do you mean you’ve already heard it? And don't call me uncle.

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