Raising Evzen - 3. The First Night

“What is that on my son’s plate?”

Sasha’s ears folded at the snarled question, his head bowed as he continued cutting Evžen’s food into bite sized pieces. Meat covered the young Lidikrys’ plate, mixed in with pickled cabbage and a small pile of mushrooms. A separate plate sat aside with a trio of strawberry dumplings glazed with grains of sugar.

“Jahodové knedlíky, Pane,” the Faro replied.

“I specifically said I wanted a healthy supper for my son.”

“Yes, Pane.”

“Are you willfully ignoring my commands?”

“No, Pane.”

The knife was set aside as the last sausage was cut, and Sasha backed away respectfully, hands folded in front of him.

“Then explain why there are sweets sitting on the table.”

“Pan Evžen asked for strawberry dumplings. They are for dessert.”

“My son’s requests do not supersede my own,” Bohdan snapped. “Take the dumplings away-”

“No! I want them!” Evžen demanded, his fist hitting the table.

“I don’t care what you want. You are not having sweets. It’s time you grow up!” Bohdan shouted over his son.

Sasha didn’t understand what not having comfort food had to do with growing up. But then, perhaps he was not supposed to understand. He had made the attempt, though Evžen likely wouldn’t care that the Faro had followed his order. All the young rat cared about was not getting his dumplings.

Still, Sasha had been given an order. Head bowed, the Faro reached for the plate, only to have Evžen’s hand slap it out of his grasp. The plate fell off the table and shattered, sending ceramic and pastries everywhere.

Sasha’s body stiffened. He backed away quickly.

“I will clean up, Pane,” the Faro breathed in apology, before fleeing the dining room.

Ducking around the wall, Sasha darted for the stairs, bounding down two at a time. He pulled at a chain, allowing light to flood the hall, and yanked open what he prayed was a closet door.

A bathroom sat beyond, and the Faro let out a curse, moving on down the hall. Bathroom… pantry… cellar… kitchen… there, a closet filled with various brooms and mops. He grabbed a handle, dragging the broom back upstairs and into the dining room.

“Took you long enough,” Radek hissed from the door. “Get sweeping, I’ll grab the mop.”

Sasha didn’t waste time protesting. He had spent long enough just trying to find the blasted supplies.

Sweeping the shattered remnants of the plate up, the Faro winced as a foot kicked his side. Evžen glared at the slave, his foot swinging back for another kick. Sasha relaxed just slightly as the kick landed, letting the force of the blow meld into his sweeping. Evžen was pissed. And the Faro would bear the brunt of his punishment.

Sasha scooped the pastries into a pan, ducking out of the dining room. He found a recycler in the kitchen, dumping the plate and food inside. A loud crunch followed, as the ceramic was pulverised into matter that would be reused to create new plates.

Carrying the broom and dustpan back downstairs, he set everything neatly away, before rushing back to the dining room and taking his place. The floor was dry and clean, Radek carrying his bucket of water out of the room. The Daknar returned a minute later, resuming his position beside Bohdan.

Yet all was not well. Sasha could feel the tension in the room, as father and son stared each other down. He had put himself squarely in the middle of their feud, earning the ire of them both, and the Faro wondered how his plan had gone so wrong.

Warm water filled the tub, Evžen waiting silently as his slave worked. This bathroom was much more appropriate for a noblerat, a porcelain tub with touch controls set to offer any temperature of water, a sink that had no rust, a mirror that wasn’t cracked, even a shower and dryer sitting in the corner of the room.

Sasha stood up from adjusting the tub, turning to help Evžen undress. The Lidikrys held up his hands expectantly, and the fox pulled off his shirt before working on his shoes. Once those were off, he carefully slid Evžen’s pants off, tucking them aside with the rest of the dirty clothes as the Lidikrys stepped into the tub filled with bubbly water.

“Will you require anything else, Pane?” Sasha asked quietly.

“I want my bed cooled and my nightlight on,” the young master said imperiously.

“Yes Pane.”

The Faro bowed, scooping up the clothes. He carried them through the house, setting them into a nearly filled basket just inside Evžen’s room. Lifting the basket, Sasha made his way out to the laundry room, watching a robot scrubbing at the small window in the room.

It didn’t take long to get the washer started, and the Faro headed downstairs, to the slave kitchen. Opening the freezer, he pulled out a large metal pan, bits of ice sitting on the flat surface. A steel scraper ran across the metal, cutting the ice off, and the Faro rushed back upstairs, tucking the metal into Evžen’s bed sheets.

Turning around, he flipped the switch on a small black Daknar statue, the current gladiatorial Imperial Champion if he remembered correctly. A soft red glow emanated from the wooden sword in the Daknar’s hand, filling the room with a soothing light.

The Faro left the room, heading back to the ground floor kitchen. Selecting a clean platter, he opened a cupboard and pulled out a trio of dowels. The scent of fruit wafted off the wood, apple, pear, and pomegranate filling his nose. They were rare on Země, a tradegood from Narax that took nearly six draks’ flight to deliver to the Lidikrys homeworld. The only proper edible wood that grew on Země was maple, and it tended to be a flavour many Lidikrys grew weary of, especially when they had other options.

There were other woods, other planets that had been cultivated to provide wood for the Lidikrys, but they were few and far between. Still, buying goods from Narax was insanely expensive. There was no way the Nováks could afford this, and Sasha was starting to understand how they were so poor. Pan Bohdan was wasteful with his spending, and far too spoiled himself to give up luxury goods. The clan would be lucky if they weren’t forced to sell themselves into slavery to support Bohdan’s habits.

Habits that Evžen was picking up.

Sasha carried the tray of dowels to Evžen’s room, setting them on the dresser beside the Lidikrys’ bed. He returned to the bathroom, certain his master had finished with his bath.

A sudden whimper came from the bathroom, and the Faro winced. Opening the door, he found Evžen backed against the wall, dripping from his bath. A dowel was stuck in his butt, the Lidikrys trying to pull it out desperately.

It took a second for Sasha to shake his surprise off. Hurrying to his master, he knelt and wrapped a hand around the dowel, before carefully working it out of Evžen.

“Pane… what… what were you doing?” the Faro stammered.

“Father said… Father said I need… need to learn to be a good wife…” the rat whimpered, sitting gingerly on the ground. “He said it was all I’d be good for, so I was trying to be good…”

Sasha fought back a shudder, carefully picking up the young Lidikrys.

“Come on Pane. Let’s get you dried-”

A sudden fist caught him in the gut, Evžen’s face twisting into grotesque rage.

“Don’t ever tell anyone you saw this!” the Lidikrys snarled, kicking the Faro between the legs.

Sasha dropped like a brick, a strained gasp escaping him as the rat beat him. Evžen grabbed the back of the Faro’s neck, dragging him to the toilet. Sasha’s face submerged in water, his lungs burning as he fought the urge to gasp.

“Are you going to tell my father?!”

He gasped as his head was pulled back, struggling for air before being pushed back into the toilet.

“Are you going to tell him?!”

“No Pane-”

An agonizing pain blossomed in his head as Evžen slammed him into the side of the toilet. Sasha fought back a cry, retreating into himself as he was punished. He wouldn’t let Evžen break him. He couldn’t. The Faro would do anything to help his master, and that meant teaching him that pain was not the way to solve his problems.

Slowly he came back to himself, his body screaming at the abuse he’d suffered. Evžen was nowhere in sight. Water soaked the floor, mixed with the Faro’s blood, and Sasha groaned as he reached for a towel. The master’s floors had to be cleaned. He would get in trouble if they weren’t cleaned…

“Sasha.”

Strong arms lifted the Faro, scales rubbing against broken fur.

“Come on, Pan won’t like it if his 200k credit Faro was killed by his son on the first storm.”

Sasha stumbled through the house, his legs howling and his ribs burning. He gasped for breath, blood dripping from his muzzle as they walked down the cement stairs. Before he knew it, the Faro was nude, a covering on his face forcing oxygen into his lungs as he plunged into a thick blue liquid. He was forced to float for an entire storm, as his body slowly healed from Master’s punishment.