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(This is no.11 "Bond" in the list of 20 fanwork fiction themes.)
Yzak's Not Weird
Dearka sat in the backseat of the car with the seatbelt taut across his chest, his forehead pressed against the window, not really watching the passing scenery. His nanny never let him sit in the front seat with her and normally concentrated only on her driving. But now he could feel her eyes on him in the mirror frequently. It was just another example of the weirdness that had surrounded him for days now. Everything around him seemed strange, and everybody was weird, and he felt cold and tired all the time and he didn't know why.
Maybe Yzak could tell him what was happening. Yzak – he hadn't seen him in four days, and that was only a glimpse. There had been a lot of people at the cemetery; Yzak and his mother had been there in the crowd, but too far away for Dearka to even see their faces properly, let alone talk to Yzak. Dearka had stood there with his hand clasped by his father, right there in the front, while they put that thing that they said was his mother into the ground. People said a lot of stuff, but Dearka didn't listen. It was all just a sort of hum; the wind in the trees and the distant sound of birds was more real to him.
His mother was dead; she wasn't coming back. He understood that, but what he didn't get was why everything around him seemed to have changed as well. He didn't have to go to school; people, servants, even his father, seemed to talk in slow muffled voices. Nobody looked him in the eye, but he could often feel their eyes on him when he wasn't looking in their direction. He didn't like it. He tried to not be around people; kept in his room as much as possible, playing with his toys or computer games.
And then this morning his nanny said that he'd been invited to spend the night over at Yzak's place and wasn't that a good idea; his father had agreed to it and she'd already packed his bag. It was like there was a clear plastic bubble round him, cutting him off from everybody; they didn't need him to say yes, it was just going to happen, like everything else around him just happened now.
His nanny reported them at the security gate and the car began its slow crawl up the Joules' driveway. She never drove very fast on the gravel driveway; Dearka had sometimes wondered what it would be like to arrive at speed and spin to a stop at the bottom of the steps in a spray of loose gravel. Some day when he was big enough to have a car he was going to do that.
The car finally arrived at its destination and Dearka got slowly out while his nanny fetched his bag from the boot. Together they made their way up the steps; Dearka's shorter nine-year-old legs making slightly harder work of the climb, but keeping up with her easily enough. They had made this trip quite a few times together in the three years that he had known Yzak, but everything seemed different today. For once he felt no sense of anticipation at seeing him.
A servant met them at the door, took the bag, ushered them in. Dearka walked slowly into the foyer, and hesitated. Normally he would have dashed up the stairs to Yzak's room on the next floor, but suddenly he was afraid. What if Yzak was weird too? What would he do then?
"Where have you been? You're late! You were meant to be here half and hour ago!"
Yzak was standing at the top of the stairs, glaring down at him. "What are you mucking about down there for? I've got a new computer game to show you! If you don't shift yourself we won't have time to get in a full game before lunch. Come on, stupid!"
Yzak was loud, not muffled. Yzak was looking straight at him. Yzak was mad at him, not worried or sad. Yzak wasn't weird....
Dearka sucked in a deep breath. It felt like the first true breath he had taken in days.
"OK, Yzak. Just hold your jets! I'm coming...!" And feet flying, he dashed up the stairs as fast as his legs could take him....
