The Conundrum in the Keeper's Boot

My boot is rumbling.

The Keeper’s brow lowered as he analyzed the situation. He was in his master suite and just finishing his morning routine. The last step was to put on his boots and grab his coat. The day was already ruined by the expected morning meetings. He did not need the unexpected.

A meticulous review of the room assured him of his solitude. The bedroom door remained locked. Wards of Shadow and Light were visible from where he stood, the contrasting tendrils unbroken, indicating a lack of intrusion. Shadows veiled the windows, serving as extended security. He sent a brief sweep of power through the room, verifying that Balance was maintained. The few items stationed around the room were precisely where they were meant to be. Nothing was out of place.  

Except the boot.

Turning back, his gaze fell once more to the puzzle before him. One boot remained upright and obedient next to the door. It’s match lay tipped and angled away, continuing to rumble with far less obedience.

The Keeper contemplated the possible risks of the oddly behaving boot. It was unlikely it was his mind playing tricks on him. He was young, but not so young to have a child’s imagination to battle. That battle was fought and lost well before childhood ended.  

There was no reason or previous history to point to delusion and though there was an empty bottle beside his bed from the night before, one bottle was hardly enough to impact him the next morning. Shades knew he was capable of consuming far more without effect.

The possibility of malicious intent was low enough to dismiss. Anything intending to hurt or disrupt in any way would fill him with a buzzing urgency that would stay with him until it was taken care of, either by prevention or counteraction.

Pausing to think a moment, he came to a conclusion.

“A prank.” 

His statement punctured the air with confident finality. His head tilted in consideration.

Taron’s men, no doubt.

The Keeper and his brother may choose to rarely cross paths, but that did not lend immunity from the antics of his brother’s two colleagues. Disrupting the mutually maintained tension between the Keeper and his brother seemed to be a goal of the duo. A prank from them would no doubt be harmless, if not annoying, and unlikely to trigger the Keeper’s sense of Balance. The timing matched as well, since he knew Taron and his team were expected to arrive the night before.

The old familiar sensation of loss rose up, and he was quick to shove it back down. There was nothing to be gained on thinking of his brother, who was already an unwelcome item on today’s schedule. Their meeting was in less than an hour.

“Light save me, I have no time for this.”

The Keeper continued grumbling at the empty room as he swiftly yanked the boot from the ground. Preparing his Balance for whatever effect he was about to unleash, he shoved his hand down to the inner heel.

The rumbling stopped.

A high pitched shrieking took it’s place, accompanied by the lightning sting of multiple punctures piercing him from forearm to fingertip.

Needles of fire stabbed into his hand as he yelped and yanked back, suddenly desperate to abandon his search. He stumbled back a step as his power suddenly surged, hand still trapped within.

The boot instantly disintegrated.

The pain did not.

“Gah!”

Incoherency was not something he remembered engaging in very often. Not lately at least. He was having a hard time remembering most things at the moment though. His usual rational breakdown of the issue at hand, quite literally this time, had fled. Instead there was pure, physical reaction.  

Baring his teeth, he quickly righted himself and moved into a defensive stance. Bracing himself, he drew back his unaffected fist, ready to rain down a multitude of punches.   

His eyes widened at the sight of bright orange fur wrapped tightly around his hand and wrist. He immediately forgot his instinct to punch the threat into submission. Rather, he made the equally irrational decision to swing his arm wildly from side to side. 

So much worse!

The sharp stinging in his hand turned into searing agony. Molten pain shot up his arm in waves. He swore everything up to his shoulder was being melted from the inside out. Shades knew what poison was being driven into him!  

The orange fur doubled in size.

How is this thing defying the Balance?!

He raised the unaffected hand, palm up, and blasted every scrap of power he could at the other. With determination, he pushed the hand closer and closer, as though being nearer the threat would concentrate his attack. It did not.

Instead his power bounced back at him, blasting him across the room to crash into the farthest wall, knocking a mirror to the ground and sending reflected rays of light straight into the Shaded windows. The Shadow it contained fought back against the unexpected light, expanding dramatically out, absorbing the light and consuming the surrounding carpet, dresser, and half the bed. The mirror imploded with a resounding crack.

Bewildered, the Keeper surveyed the damage as the Shadows receded. His dresser reemerged, it’s shine slightly muted. The carpet appeared darker as if cast in twilight. His bed creaked ominously, before one side collapsed, knocking the empty bottle beside it to the ground with a dull thud.

Everything turned silent and still.

The Keeper drew in a breath and froze, his blood running cold to counteract the lava running through his still throbbing arm. The arm that he suddenly realized was held firmly to his chest. Ominous vibrations broke the quiet.

Slowly, he lowered his head to the insidious fuzz.

Shocking electric blue eyes stared back.

The pain was tolerable at this point, falling to the background as he finally took the time to study his new malevolent accessory. The orange fur contrasted brightly against the black of his shirt. Belatedly he realized the magic infused in the threads had also failed in preventing this event.  

What the Shades is this thing?

As his mind slowly turned over the mystery of it, he registered small puffs of breath on the skin of his wrist and the jolting sensation of a tiny, rapidly beating heart on the back of his hand. The fur remained expanded, fluffed out in a shag that appeared both comical and terrifying considering the overall size.  

Tentatively, he brought up his other hand.  

Blue eyes narrowed menacingly and he halted. The beating heart increased in speed, and the Keeper swallowed against the sudden memories it evoked.  

Another set of narrowed eyes holding his. Another rapidly beating heart against his hand as he held it over the wound in the chest of his brother as he lay dying. Their father humming a song to soothe them both, the decision made. Regret and defeat battling the buzzing under his skin that told him what needed to be done. Telling him what was right. Telling him his brother wasn’t supposed to die. Telling him to fix it.

“The Balance must be kept.”

It was defiance fueled by fear that sent that heart racing. A fear that eventually faded from his brother’s eyes, replaced with confusion accompanied by a smile that shattered the Keeper’s soul as his Balance finished the task. The racing heart slowed. The humming of their father faded, then stopped.

They forget.

The Keeper remembers.  

The brother lives

The father ceases to exist.

Balance.

He lost his brother anyway. His obliviousness quietly grating at the Keeper, the distance expanding with the inability to explain why it was there to begin with. Dutifully he watched for this great importance that required their father’s sacrifice, hoping and dreading the relief it might bring.  

Today’s meeting made him wonder if his watch was finally at an end.

Shaking himself internally, the Keeper pulled himself from the past and focused on the blue eyes before him once more. Eyes filled with defiance and fear, he realized, and the expectation of losing a battle it was helpless to prevent. Tiny in a world that was big. Another life clutched in his hands, seeking to defy Balance. Only this time, there was no buzzing beneath his skin. It appeared to the Keeper that this time his hand was his to control.

Taking a quiet breath, he began to hum a song. A song weaved with Light and Shadow, holding Balance securely in place. Everyone knew the melody, though no one knew the words. Not even Keepers.

The song had the desired effect, slowing the beating heart, the orange fuzz settling into long wispy strands that gently waved around it’s calming form. Triangular, velvet ears emerged atop it’s head, one darkest black and the other stark white, both tipped in orange.

Carefully, as to not ruin the spell of the song, he continued the movement of his other hand. His skin remained calm as his fingertips brushed lightly over the soft fur at it’s back.  

A kitten.

Continuing to hum, he carefully flexed his other hand. The kitten’s tiny claws and sharp opalescent teeth loosened their hold until the Keeper was able to shift the body to settle more securely in his cupped palm.  

Rising, he made his way back to the door, gently swaying in time with the song as the tune carried on. With amused exasperation, he realized the kitten was now gently licking his wrist, rough tongue dragging abrasively over a thousand tiny wounds that now marred his skin.

Bleeding while I dance with a cat. Not the way I pictured this day starting.

He gently blended the tune with the returning purr of the kitten until it was no longer sound, but a lingering promise. Positioning the boot, tipped and slightly angled, he tucked the now lulled kitten inside.

Straightening, he waited, nodding to himself as the boot began to rumble once more. Quietly he grabbed his hooded coat, easing it on over his stinging marks. Disbanding the magic around the door, he slipped out to join the guards stationed outside.

“Your boots, sir?”

The Keeper paused, glancing down at his socked feet, sticking out casually from the ends of his black pants. 

“They are currently occupied. I will be needing another pair”

The guard blinked and nodded.

“Yes, Keeper. We can make a small detour before we arrive at the Hall.”

At his nod, the guards moved forward.  

Holding back a moment, the Keeper paused to turn and wave his hand at the door. Wards made of Light and Shadow protected the door once more.

As he set off to meet with the advisers and Taron, he thought on the tiny, ferocious beast, sleeping soundly inside a boot in a destroyed room growing further and further away. He found himself hoping it would be there when he returned.