This is the 36th time joining @flashfictionfridayofficial! Thanks for the interesting prompt! This is the modern AU of The Song of Wind. (first time writing an AU story!)
Ari (they/them): Arrogant rich kid
Ross (he/him): Gloomy gardener working at Ari’s mansion
‘You miserable beings! Why the hell all my housekeepers are useless!’
A shrieking voice from a young person dressed in a visibly expensive suit echoes in the guestroom.
‘We are sorry, young master Ari.’
However, this apology from the caretakers angers Ari even more. Ari shakes their head in disapproval.
‘You are all dismissed, petty servants! And remember, you can’t call my name like that, idiots!’
They give a death glare to the trembling caretakers as they slip out of the room. Ari throws a jacket worth a bag full of gold carelessly on the leather couch, looking at the empty space where the flower vase was. It was made of pure crystal, decorated with intricate carvings. It was massive and magnificent, adorned with ever-lasting artificial roses. Arta sighs deeply, complaining and cursing not only the caretakers who mistakenly dropped it, but also everything about this old, unfamiliar mansion. It is their possession now, but it looks too strange to Ari, who grew up in the high-rise tower in the middle of the city.
‘How did I end up in this dirty, depressing shed?’
This ‘disaster’ started 3 months ago. Ari was enjoying luxurious city life. But an unexpected email turned their life upside down. Their estranged relatives told them that Ari inherited a billion worth mansion in the countryside because the brothers who were supposed to inherit it were all ‘illegible’ - the older one was disowned by choosing his partner without approval, and the younger one decided to choose his own path and left the mansion. So the old lady of the mansion had no choice but to reach out to her most hated daughter, apparently refusing to get involved in any sort of family issues. However, in the end, a letter written by the old master was ‘discovered.’
‘And according to that bloody letter, you are the one to inherit that ancient stinky mansion and some billions.’
Karen, Ari’s mother, said indifferently.
‘Now, you gotta deal with it. You can be super rich.’
She shrugged as she passed the letter from the lawyer.
‘And you can get rid of me from this flat, huh? How fortunate!’
With a sarcastic smile, Ari replied.
‘It’s not how a child talks to their mother. But yes, and you’ll get a mansion of your own. It’s not a bad deal.’ And that was the last conversation between Karen and Ari.
Standing in the middle of the uncomfortably spacious guestroom, Ari still stares at the empty space. They do not miss the flower vase worth a thousand quid.
‘Huh, that disgusting, old-fashioned, thing should be in a bin. And those sloppy idiots, too!’
Ari believes that everyone working or living in the mansion deliberately irritates them.
‘They are talking on my back, mocking me when I’m away…just like others.’
Ari sits on the couch angrily. They know that there is a rumour that they are not related to the family by blood because of their unusual appearance - fluffy silver hair, lean-built, and eyes with shade of purple. They look like a fairy as long as they shut their mouth…which they never manage to do. Ari’s hand reaches out for a cigarette and a silver lighter. It is prohibited to smoke in the guest room, but so what? Ari traces the mysterious patterns the smoke creates in the air. They are so fragile, so ethereal, so dreamy. Their gaze moves to the empty space again. There was not only the flower vase - but also a small bird made of glass. Ari recalls its blue wings, and their beady, crystal eyes. It would be a lie if Ari said that they would not miss it. It was the only gift they received from the old master, their grandfather.
‘That stupid, f*cking flower vase!’
Ari breathes out, then finds something shining under the coffee table. It is a blue shard, definitely a piece of now-gone bird. Without thinking, Ari reaches out as if it is something so precious that must be salvaged.
They feel a sudden sharp pain on their palm. The shard slips from their hand with a drop of blood.
Their high-pitched scream and relentless curse are intercepted by a deep, grave voice.
‘No smoking allowed here.’
A man with long dark hair staring at them from above.
Caught off guard, Ari asks without a usual insult.
He replies nonchalantly and that irritates Ari.
‘Ha! That muddy, dirty rat running around the shitty garden?’
His indifferent calmness reawakens the anger in Ari.
‘You, petty servant can’t tell me what to do.’
Ari crosses their legs, looking at him with a mocking smile.
‘Then, what are you doing, miserable being? Stealing some stuff for your rotten dinner?’
‘No. But I know coming here was meaningless.’
Ari is so upset - they have never come across such a blunt, unwavering person before.
‘You b*stard! How can you be so rude to your young master?’
Ari grabs the collar of gardener’s shirt. A streak of blood runs from their pale hand, staining the gardener’s shirt. Stunned, Ari stares at the stain spreading on the shirt.
‘It was not useless, after all. Does it hurt, yeah?’
The gardener takes Ari's wounded hand carefully.
‘No, it doesn’t. I’m not a coward like you, shocked by the sight of a mere cut.’
‘Good, then you can take this.’
He replies with nothing but a small laugh.
Ari manages to tolerate the burning sensation of disinfectant spray. The gardener makes his way to the door, without making any comments on his stained shirt.
Ari grabs the fringe of his sleeve. They are confused by their own actions, but somehow, the words flow out.
Bewildered, the gardener looks at Ari’s surprisingly naive face.
And that is the first name Ari comes to know after spending 3 month in the mansion.
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