Enjoy!~))
It seems like such a long time ago, since I ever looked back at my life. But if I had to describe my life thus far I would only use one word. Adventure. From the beginning, adventure was in my vains. My father was a traveling entrupenour. His home may have been England, but to him he had no home. The world was his home. In truth, he only wanted to travel. To see the world was the only reason why he choose his profession. He didn't care that he was selling merchandise that could kill people or effect the economy. As long as he was happy, that was enough for him. He traveled monthly to new places. Spain, France, Portuguel, Russia, India, Italy...these were a few of the places he grew to love. He idolized these places and loved each place he discovered.
And then he found a new love of the world. He saw that he wanted to share his love with another. It happened when he traveled to Japan. He saw her, a poor, farming girl just tilling the field. It was with the union of them, that I was born. At first, they were happy. They charished every moment of my existence. But like a toy, they grew tired of taking care of me and desired something new. They saw me as more of a hinderance to their carefree life then anything. So, it was when I was three years old that they decided to leave me in the care of my uncle.
~~~
I barely remember that day. It was a cold, rainy day...I remember I had on church attire, or so I thought it was church attire. When we reached the manor, a butler greeted us and took my luggage inside. That should have been the first sign.
My uncle looked down at me and smiled as my parents approached him. But that smile quickly shifted to utter disgust as he saw my father. I never asked my uncle the relationship the two had. It was never my buisness to ask. But from what I have witnessed between there exchanges, their relationship is always tense. Though the two love and care for each as brothers should, they always would greet each other with an arguement rather then a hardy handshake.
But I suppose that was as far as their relationship could go. After all, my father's obsession caused me to be born and forced on his brother, my uncle. It was not until the arguement sub-sided, that my father left and did not say a word to me. My mother, in the other hand, weeped and held me in her arms before she departed. This became a common exchange between us during their brief visits.
After their departure, I found myself alone and with my uncle. He said not a word, and allowed the butler to handle me. And for a month, I barely heard or saw my uncle. It was a strained relationship.
But that changed one day, when he saw me in his private library, reading a book. At first, he was going to yell at me for sneaking into his private study. But once he saw that I was trying to read a difficult, philosophical book, he cracked a smile and chuckled at me. I suppose he saw a little of himself in me. He sat next to me and started to discuss the contents in the book. After which, he began to tell me about the ideal future he had for me. To be a professor, and to teach all around me the beauty of the world. At the time, I agreed with him merely because I was too young to think for myself. And from that day on, he began to home school me in the arts.
~~~
Literature, Science, Mathmatics, these were my play things growing up. And unlike my father, I never grew bored of them. I loved the social studies and desired to keep moving forward. But my uncle feared that people would become envious of my natural ability. So by the time I was ten years old, he began to instruct me in the style of fencing. At first, I did not care for fencing. I only desired to further my education and one day take an entrance exam for college and earn my degree. But something quickly changed my perspective of fencing, an event that changed my life forever.
To Be continued...
