Evin scrubbed at the last bits of oil stuck inside the tall tal container in his father's workshop, sniffing occasionally. The cold and wet kitchen cloth would send pangs of sharp pain through his nerves, a fact which irked him constantly and ceaselessly.
'Co on! Just co off already!' he complained in his head, as he scrubbed at the final shard of oil harder and faster. This was his dozenth fight against the thing. Finally, the thing fell off, making a small ting inside the pot. Evin sighed with satisfaction, and pulled himself out of the giant pot.
He did the sa act once every few months, when his father decided to change the oil he used to quench his tals.
Evin sighed tiredly, finally done with this task which ended up taking him his entire morning to finish. He wiped the sweat off his slightly tanned forehead and scratched his ssy hair furiously to refresh his head sowhat. But right after he was finished, his father's voice called out to him.
"If you're done with that, go and wash the dishes in the kitchen."
It was sothing he did every day without complaints, but today, the order vexed him to no end. Maybe it was the cold piece of cloth in his hands, maybe it was the fact that his nose was slightly clogged. Whatever it was, it almost pushed Evin to snap back without regard for the consequences. But of course, he wasn't going to snap back in reality. The only thing he could do was to say nothing.
Silence. The only form of resistance he could show towards his father. But… it seed that that too wasn't going to last long, as his father's stern command echoed across the house.
"Co over here."
a mocking voice appeared in his head.
Dropping the wet cloth to the floor, Evin slowly waddled over.
"Hurry!" his father ordered, and Evin walked faster.
Evin's father was a man with a huge, frightening appearance – legs as thick as logs, a hand the size of Evin's torso, and a grizzled face with a burn scar under his eyes. Well, it was expected, as he was a blacksmith by profession and worked with many heavy-duty items.
The man looked at Evin dead in the eye and asked, alcohol reeking from his breath,
"What are you supposed to say when I tell you to do sothing?"
"Say 'Yes, sir'…" Evin murmured.
"And what did you just do now?"
"I said nothing…" Evin whimpered.
The next mont, Evin fell to the ground with a thud, feeling a sharp sting from his cheeks. He quickly grabbed at it, hoping to forget the pain enough so he didn't start crying.
"Little shit… can't even take a slap on his feet," his father cursed, as he picked Evin up, "I'll let you off with that, since we're going to be visiting those fucking mages today. Now do what I told you."
"Yes, sir…" holding the tears back from his eyes, Evin picked up the wet cloth from the floor and dragged himself towards the kitchen.
the voice in his head said mockingly.
"Shut up…" Evin whispered in the smallest voice he could, careful not to let his father hear the remark. But alas, today really wasn't his day.
"Did you speak to that voice again, you freak?" his father shouted at him, "If I hear you talking to yourself like a lunatic again, I swear to the Empress, I'll beat you till you're actually insane, understand?"
Evin could only nod silently and hurry towards his next task.
"I won't let a lunatic live in my house, you get it? You either fix your head, or find yourself a new house to live in," his father shouted from behind.
Entering the kitchen, Evin closed the door behind him, and put the wet, oily cloth to his cheeks. The pulsating pain seed to die out a little as he groaned softly and sat down on the ground.
"Shut up."
"Shut up."
the voice cackled in delight,
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