Solk walked closer to Kenneth, presenting the object that fully had Kenneth’s attention.
Of all the things Solk could have brought with him, a painting was the last thing he expected.
Even in the light of many candles, Kenneth could see the beautiful dark wood frame expertly carved with what appeared to be illustrations of, as far as Kenneth knew, blue flowers all interconnected by one stem.
However, it was not the dark wooden frame or the pattern carved into it nor the solid gold plack at the very bottom center of the painting that filled Kenneth with a burning rage.
It was the person in the painting.
A black-furred Aki with a white-tipped tail wielding a giant shield, not unlike those of the roman people during Julius caesars time, as she charged into battle.
In her other hand, she was wielding a long sword against what Kenneth recognized to be a black Nok with a spear who charged at her. Thrusting its weapon with all its might against her shield.
“Jasha,” Kenneth muttered so silently. He barely managed to stave off his primary instinct to strike the very illustration before him.
“Huh? Did you say something?” Solk asked.
Kenneth quickly snapped out of his trance and relaxed his body.” No, I said nothing.”
“Are you sure I could have sworn you said… well, never mind,” Solk said dismissively as he let the painting rest on one of the floor juice barrels. “So, are you interested?”
‘If you only knew,’ Kenneth thought as he restrained himself from acting like he normally would whenever he saw Jasha.
“It is quite something,” Kenneth said in a fake cheery tone of voice. “Just out of curiosity, what was the other item you thought I would be interested in?”
“Some of the slaves,” Solk said casually.
‘Remember, you just need the vinegar,’ Kenneth told himself, not wanting to ever be a slaver as he stared down the painting.
“Forget I said anything, and let's talk about the masterpiece here,” Kenneth said biting his tongue.
“It is one of my most prized possessions,” Solk said proudly with only the slightest hint of something else in his voice.
“Well, it’s just if it is so prized, why would you have brought it to trade with me?” Kenneth asked, unsure if he asked because he wanted to know or just looking for an excuse to get it out of his sight, even though he just wanted to get the vinegar and be done with everything.
Solk lowered his gaze slightly, letting out a sigh. “It is not an easy thing to trade, but to keep it in my family would be an insult to my brother once I eventually meet him again.”
“How so?” Kenneth asked.
“Do-does the words engraved on the gold plack confuse you?” Solk asked.
As Kenneth took a closer look for the first time, he noticed some engravings in the gold plack. They seemed like letters, but none Kenneth had truly ever seen nor in any way understood.
“Sorry, but I can’t read that,” Kenneth responded.
“Really,” Solk exclaimed slightly. “But you seem like a learned man, one who’s been taught like us royals.”
“I can read; I just can’t read your language,” Kenneth clarified.
“My language. Does that mean you speak another aside from this?” Solk questioned curiously.
“Yes,” Kenneth answered.
“I see. Well, the engraving reads as follows,” Solk said, clearing his throat. “Perfection gifted to me by the gods to be created by mortal hands so we may witness the closest thing to perfection Aki-kind will ever achieve. ”
“Well, the painting is undeniably beautiful and so life-like,” Kenneth complimented while adverting his eyes a little away from Jasha. “But I don’t see how the words would confuse me.”
“Really. It doesn’t strike you as odd that the gods would give my brother a vision of the past just so he could paint this thing,” Solk said, slightly spiteful.
Solk became a little quiet after that. The only thing Kenneth heard for a little while was his breathing. It was calm, but at times it would slightly get louder.
“The value of this painting is quite hard to measure,” Solk suddenly said. “ Not only is it more detailed than any other I know of, but the sentimental value is equally hard to measure.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“In truth, I have had others who have offered vast sums of gold for it, but it always seemed too cheap to me.”
“Cheap,” Kenneth repeated. “I must admit I don’t quite follow you. If you think vast sums of gold are too cheap, then why would you trade with me? I only have some unique items and blue flowers.”
Solk looked at Kenneth for a short while silently before he started to chuckle.
“Did I say something funny?” Kenneth asked.
“No,” Solk answered, letting his chuckling naturally subside. “your words simply reminded me of something similar to what I said many summers ago.”
Kenneth raised an eyebrow.
“I apologize for asking this, but would you let an old man tell you a story of the past and why no gold would ever be enough for me to trade this painting?” Solk asked.
“Sure, just go ahead,” Kenneth responded, feeling strangely intrigued by what Solk had to say.
“As kids, my brother and I were always close to one another. We used to play from the moment Ki appeared in the sky to the moment he was going to trade places with Di,” Solk started as he looked at the painting slightly fondly.
“However, as we got older, I started to notice he’d space out more often, looking into nothingness with a dull expression. He’d look at trees, furniture, buildings, even just mud and dirt,” Solk sighed.
“Sometimes he’d even just hold a stick or rock and drag them on the ground.”
“Even as a child, I had heard some rumors of what happened to those who were misshapen, and I was worried my brother might be as well. I did my best hiding it from my father, mother, and sisters as well as the servants.”
“At times, some noticed it to some extent, but a few lies here and there about him being tired seemed to work just fine.”
Solk lowered his head and said in a somber voice. “Being that young, I truly believed I could keep my brother safe forever, but eventually, while I was sleeping, he wandered out of his room and started to act like he always did.”
“Even now, I clearly remember the feeling of pain I felt in my body when I learned my father had commissioned a local healer to heal my brother.”
“Soon thereafter, my brother was gone. I searched every nook and cranny of the house, but I never found him.”
“And worst of all,” Solk growled slightly. “When I confronted him and my mother about it, they played the fool. Denying his existence as if he was never even born.”
“After that, I hated my father with all my hearts. I wanted to get revenge no matter the cost, and I knew just how,” Solk said in a slightly menacing tone.
“His pride and life’s work was being a trader traveling to outpost selling and trading merchandise. I knew if I wanted to make him suffer, I needed to ruin it all.”
“Summer after summer, I pretended to be the perfect son, the one who wasn't misshapen, who listened to him when he explained and taught me about the family business all the while I waited for my chance.”
“And that day eventually came when my father fell ill just before his next trip to all the outposts. With his blessing, I traveled to each one of them, letting myself be the fool. Selling any and all items for almost worthless sums of coins and items.”
“I knew my father wasn’t going to get any better, and I just wanted him to know how he’d failed before he died.”
Solk took a deep breath as he let the painting down and turned around. “Even as I walked into his bedroom, I could barely contain my smile, but what I was met with was not my ill father, but my mother, sisters, and a healer.”
“If I had run, I would have made it, but I didn’t, and so my father died believing his life’s work and pride would be in safe hands.”
“He was my father, so it was expected of me to be sad, but unlike so much of my life, I didn’t lie or hide my feelings.”
“My life’s goal. The one moment I had been working toward. Gone… snatched from my hands in the final moments.”
“His death left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I knew I would get everything I wanted once I met him again.”
“ However on, one night, when I was just relaxing in my room, my mother brought me a letter. It was my father's last words if he died before I got home.”
“I expected it to contain words like how I would do great things for the family or that I had to remember the family and marry a good, royal woman.”
“But when I read it, I was in shock. My father confessed to me that all those summers ago when my brother was taken away, he hadn’t been killed. He had been brought to a secret facility made only for misshapen royal children.”
“At a moment’s notice, I forgot about my plan to destroy the family business, and I spent no small amount of time and coins to find out where the facility was and get him out.”
“I was overjoyed to see him once more again, but he was different. Quieter than I remembered, and he spaced out more often.”
“He only talked to me and only stayed in his room, but one day when I arrived in his room, I found that on one of the walls, he, with the use of cutlery, had drawn an image of us when we were still together.”
“He was a true marvel to behold when he got to work. He was no longer spacing out, not while he was painting.”
“He was more focused than even some swordsmen in a fight, and his paintings alone were so beautiful that all the work I had done to ruin the family business just disappeared and was forgotten by all after just selling one of his works.”
“However, the good times didn’t last forever as eventually; my brother grew dissatisfied with selling his paintings.”
“He said to me, gold is too cheap a price to pay when you could share it with all, high and low-born alike, instead of locking it away forever.”
“Of course, I laughed at this and reminded him that his work was too good for the eyes of a low-born. He grew angry with me after that and locked himself in his room.”
“For a long time then, I can remember we didn’t talk, but he still painted, and of course, I showed them off and sold them.”
“However, after so long of not talking with each other, my brother burst out of his room yelling, the gods have shown me perfection.”
“I was confused, but before I even had a chance to ask anything, he started to paint working while Ki and Di traded places many times.”
Once they had traded places for the third time, I grew very worried and got some of the servants to force the door to his room open.”
“All I remember after that,” Solk said in a saddened tone of voice. “Was him lying on the floor as servants lifted him up on his bed and rushed out to get a healer.”
“I didn’t move or react. I only watched as my brother slowly died, saying his last words, the ones I’ve engraved in his final work.”
“Wow… I…. that was kind of heavy,” Kenneth said, not knowing what else to say.
“Do you now understand why it’s hard to sell?” Solk asked as he turned around and picked up the painting. “My brother wanted his work to be seen and not just sold off and hidden away.”
“I get it,” Kenneth said, crossing his arms. “You can’t just trade it for gold like all the others he made, but at the same time, you can’t just keep it hidden away.”
“I don’t know If I’m the ideal person to buy this painting, but I’ll try to honor the memory of your brother.”
“I truly hope you’ll do better than I have,” Solk said shamefully.