A handful of people basked in the glow of the dimly lit street as they hurriedly walked off to their homes. The sound of joyful families and rowdy drinkers at the pubs echoed through alleyways and onto the central streets of the town. The few remaining citizens in the streets ventured across the stone brick bridge, over the murky water full of fish, and trickled into a small backstreet bar called "The Silver Note".
Moments after the street cleared, the wind suddenly picked up, blowing a large pile of leaves into the air. The streetlamps began to flicker as the brittle maple leaves danced upon the wind currents, climbing higher and higher until suddenly disappearing, leaving a dark figure in their stead. The tall masked man dressed in the darkest of black came out onto the street from where the pile of leaves previously was and began slowly walking towards The Silver Note.
He made his way onto the bridge, stopping to lean back against a weathered metal railing, as his gloved hands gripped the cold steel. He raised his head and looked up at the moon, its light illuminating the sky. The masked man rummaged through the pockets of his trench coat to find a brown leather wallet with the initials A.G stitched into the side with a faint golden string, filled to the brim with dollar bills. Seeming satisfied with the contents of the wallet, he made his way to the entrance of the Silver Note, the rubber sole of their black leather dress shoes clacking on the cobblestone pathway.
Once at the door to the tavern, he was met with a tall, muscular man dressed in a completely black two piece suit coupled with a dress shirt of the same color tone, and if not for his bright pink bow tie, then he would have blended into the night. He was leaning against the weathered brick wall, lit cigar in hand. Yet once he noticed the masked man approaching he quickly straightened his posture and stepped in front of the entrance to the tavern, blocking the masked man's entry.
"Are you here for the concert?" asked the bouncer, to which the masked man nodded as he withdrew a creased ticket which read: 1 ticket for the violin performance by Caspian Sinclair, and showed it to the bouncer. "One last thing, please take off your mask. It's a security concern." the bouncer asked.
The man breathed an annoyed sigh as he withdrew a pistol from his coat and pointed it at the bouncer's forehead. "You're threatening me? I could crush you with my fingers, yet you dare aim your gun at me!?" asked the cocky bouncer.
"I'm not threatening you, I'm threatening her" the man said as the bouncer looked at where his pistol was aimed. Rather than aiming it at the bouncer, he was pointing it at a window right behind him, where a woman holding a child slept peacefully on an antique sofa. "You wouldn't dare, She's my wife! She's innocent!" yelled the bouncer, shaking with anger.
"So then let me in," the masked man said calmly. "I-I really can't, my boss will kill me!" the bouncer protested. "And I'll kill your wife" the masked man said as he cocked his gun. "Fine, just don't tell anyone I did this, or I'll lose my job" the bouncer said, still shaken from the man's threat. "My lips are sealed" the man said as he swung open the door to the tavern and walked inside.
Nearly devoid of people except for a handful of smokers, illuminated by a few barely functioning light bulbs, and a central stage surrounded with tattered red velvet curtains, it was obvious that the Silver Note tavern had seen better days.
The man looked down at his silver wristwatch, which showed the time to be 6:59 pm. Just on time, he thought as he took a fresh bottle of beer from a nearby cooler and sat down at a small table. He propped up his legs on one of the table's steel legs as he lifted his mask to take a sip of the cold beer.
Shortly after he had taken his first sip, a fat, black haired man wearing a torn brown sweater emerged from behind the curtain. "Ahem" he said, clearing his throat. "Hello everybody, my name is Alfred, and tonight playing violin for us will be Caspian Sinclair! And as always, please tip to show some support to the lad!" Alfred boomed as he ran off stage.
Moments after his departure, a boy no older than 11 walked onto the stage, white violin in hand. A stray breeze from a nearby window ruffled his ghostly white hair and swept up the coattail of his deep blue suit as he put his violin below his chin, removing his bow from inside his suit jacket to rest it upon the violins strings. The audience held their breath in anticipation as Caspian stood completely still, eyes closed and not a hair on his head moving.
The room was filled with a somber melody as Caspian began to play, each movement of the bow string was calculated and precise…scarily precise. The beautiful yet gloomy tune echoed all over the bar and out onto the street, moving through each alleyway and crevice in the bricks in order to stretch throughout the entire town. It was as if the notes themselves had gained sentience and yearned to explore the world before fading and being replaced with the next perfectly timed flick of Caspian's bow.
Despite his perfect execution of the piece, he didn't show any satisfaction while playing, quite the opposite actually. His face was completely devoid of emotion as he performed, and the only place where he displayed any emotion was in his deep blue eyes. The masked man could tell that Caspian felt one, intense feeling. The feeling of utter despair.
He could tell, for Caspian's eye's were not of a child who experienced joy, rather the opposite. He probably was a slave, most children away from the capital were, as these areas were extremely underdeveloped compared to the rest of the country. These children had a tough life, even assuming they didn't get beaten by their masters, and he was betting that Caspian did, as he glanced at a deep scar on Caspian's left hand.
Just as the masked man was thinking about that, Caspian suddenly stopped playing and abruptly dropped to the floor, coughing intensely. He began twitching and rolling around on the floor in pain, grabbing at his hair and screaming in intense pain, his shrieking echoing throughout the tavern. However, instead of helping him, the few spectators began throwing their empty beer bottles and remains of food at Caspian as a chorus of boos erupted from the crowd.
"Hey little shit, would you be quiet and do your damn job!?" a voice yelled from backstage, who emerged from behind the curtain to be Alfred. Alfred rubbed his temples, boiling with so much rage he could pop the veins in his face. "I-I'm so sorry folks, please excuse this" he said as he dragged Caspian off the stage by his hair.
"What a shit show" a drunkard laughed as he took a sip of his beer. "The kids good, but to collapse on stage like that…disgraceful" another man at the table added. "No wonder Alfred beats the shit out of him, that brat should care more about these things. Most slaves would be lucky to even breathe the same damn air as us!" one more man said as he drank the last of his beer, to which the others nodded in agreement.
Moments later, the masked man got up from his table, put his coat on and exited the tavern, slamming the door shut behind him.
"So riddle me this little brat!" the fat man yelled as he slammed Caspian into the wall. "Why the hell did you stop playing!?" he asked Caspian, anger flowing through him. Yet Caspian didn't respond, an expressionless look painted on his face as he looked into Alfred's eyes.
"Y-you don't care do you? You are my slave and the only thing you are useful for is to play the damn violin and get me tip money, yet nobody tipped, quite the opposite in fact!" Alfred yelled, centimeters away from Caspian's face. "I am going to make you regret ever showing your face in this bar" Alfred said as he raised his fist.
"You are perhaps mistaken," a man said from the shadows, who turned out to be the masked man as he emerged to restrain Alfred's hand. "I have come here to tip the young boy, quite generously if I might add." the masked man said as he held up a large stack of hundred dollar bills in front of Alfred's face, which made Alfred's eyes gleam with greed.
"Why thank you" Alfred stuttered as he took the money from the masked man's hand. "He is your slave, correct?" the masked man asked, pointing to Caspian. "Yes indeed he is, quite a talented one at that, as you can see" Alfred responded while counting the bills in his hand/
"How much for the boy?" the masked man whispered into Alfred's ear. "Well I mean it would take a considerable sum for me to part with him, seeing as he makes me money and all" Alfred answered, still confused. "Well you see, unlike you I am quite wealthy, so please do name a price" the masked man said as he put the nozzle of his gun to the back of Alfred's head.
"A-thousand dollars!" Alfred stuttered in fear. "Ooh too much, I'm pretty poor honestly" the masked man said as he tapped his gun on Alfred's head. "B-but didn't you say you were rich?" Alfred rebutted. "Taxes hit me pretty hard this year, so how about just giving me the kid for free" he shot back as he cocked his gun.
"Y-yes of course, please take him!" Alfred stammered, sweating bullets. "Hey kid, get your things and come outside" the masked man said as he walked out of the bar. Despite not showing it, Caspian was shocked, or rather…afraid. Yes the man had saved him from being continuously beaten by Alfred, but why? Caspian was doubtful, to put it mildly. What did that man have planned for him? He wondered as he picked up his violin case and followed where the man went.
As Caspian opened the door and exited the tavern, he saw the masked man leaning on the bridge railing, tapping his foot on the pavement in anticipation for Caspian's arrival. Once he noticed Caspian approaching him, he stood upright and threw a sandwich into Caspian's arms. "Huh? What's this master?" he asked, confused. "Well it's 2 pieces of bread in between ham and cheese, it's called a sandwich" the masked man answered simply as he began to walk down the road that leaves the town.
"Yes master I know what a sandwich is, however why did you give it to me?" asked Caspian. The masked man stopped and turned around to face Caspian. "Because you're starving obviously" he said as he pointed to Caspian's stomach which was audibly grumbling.
"Oh and cut the "master" crap. I'm not your master, and I have a name. I'm Andrew Grayson, and I'm your new guardian" Andrew said as he removed his mask, revealing the face of a man around 23 years old, with brown hair and equally brown eyes. His face was perfect, except for a painful looking scar under his right eye.
"G-guardian?" Caspian stuttered. "Wow kid, you need a dictionary. It means I'm going to look after you" he said as he began walking along the path. What a strange man, Caspian thought as he joined Andrew in his descent down the road.