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It’s truly astounding how much England has changed since the age of Camelot. Perhaps this shouldn’t be surprising, with age comes innovation after all. But it’s another thing entirely to see that change for oneself.
That change can be best seen in cities, the bustling metropolises that seem to sprout up like weeds across the continent.
Though Hisirdoux prefers to spend his time in the rural countryside of whichever country he finds himself in, there is something intoxicating about the city atmosphere that he can’t help but be drawn to. So it is truly not surprising that he would find himself amongst the brick walls and bustling streets of London sooner or later.
London reminds him of Camelot in a way, filled to the brim with people of all walks of life, all blended together in a melting pot of ideas and cultures. He finds himself quickly slipping back into old routines and habits, it’s nostalgic in a way.
But as suited as he is for the city lifestyle, in his terribly old age, Hisirdoux finds he much prefers the calm and peace of the countryside. As much as London reminds him of Camelot, there is one distinct difference, the lack of magic. Though King Arthur had long since outlawed magic by the time Hisirdoux found himself on Camelot’s streets, the city still breathed and lived magic and sorcery. Witches roamed the streets, hidden to all but those who knew where to find them, and though Merlin and Morgana preferred to remain secluded amongst the walls of their wizard towers, their influence was nevertheless felt amongst all magical folk in the city.
London has a different sort of magic, one born from technology and scientific innovation. It impresses Hisirdoux to no end everything humanity has discovered over the centuries, the new machines and medicines that once seemed nothing but pure fiction now brought to life. But as much as he adores the technological wonders of the modern day, he can’t help but notice a few…drawbacks.
The air tastes different than it did a hundred years ago, and when he looks at the night sky there aren’t as many stars as there used to be. It’s sad seeing how much nature deteriorates with man’s innovations, but surely it won’t get much worse than it is now, and the two will come to a happy equilibrium. But till then, the city is no home for him.
So anytime he finds himself drawn to London, whether it be for business or for pleasure, Hisirdoux tends to keep his visits short, lest he sacrifice his sanity to the smog filled air and debris covered streets.
Well, that is, he used to keep his visits to London short.
Hisirdoux hadn’t been expecting for Walter to so firmly attach himself to his side. But perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising in the slightest.
When living on the streets and in the midst of poverty and destitution, kindness becomes not something to be expected but instead a rarity to be treasured. Hisirdoux remembers a time in his past, back when he was hardly a decade old, when any act of kindness, no matter how small, was so fiercely latched on to. For him to throw kindness around so recklessly is not a weakness, but a strength born from years of hardship and struggle. He knows better than most how cruel the world can be, so of course he takes the time and energy to be as helpful and kind to all those he comes across, for if he is able to help a single person over the course of his life, then the curse of immortality will have been worth it.
Naturally Hisirdoux extends his kindness most often to children, those who are most at risk and vulnerable to the hardships of life. So perhaps a child becoming overly attached to him was bound to happen eventually. And though this strange relationship was not expected, Hisirdoux finds he quite enjoys Walter’s company. Walter is incredibly bright and full of a welcomed energy. Yes he’s a tad pessimistic, but who wouldn’t be after their own parents turned them out on the streets. Hisirdoux just hopes that with his support, he can bring some childlike joy back into Walter’s life.
However, over the past few months, it has become abundantly clear that he is thoroughly unequipped to handle caring for a child. Hisirdoux imagines this is much how Archie felt all those years ago when he came across a much younger and more feral version of himself. And though Hisirdoux has the benefit of Archie’s guidance, well there’s really only so much a cat can do to help.
The number one issue that the pair face is how exactly to acquire adequate food and shelter for Walter. While the good old fashion Lad o’ Fortune routine is fine enough to support himself, Hisirdoux can’t quite rely solely on his magical tricks to secure enough food for a growing child. And even though the three of them are living in the East End of London, he still doesn’t have enough coin to buy lodging every night for two people and a cat.
And while he could always fall back on thieving, well it’s not as if the people of Whitechapel have much in terms of money and valuables in the first place.
Now Hisirdoux would gladly leave Whitechapel without a second thought considering the poor living conditions. But Walter has a strange attachment to this part of the East End, and refuses to leave regardless of how much better his life could be anywhere else in the city. And it’s not as if Hisirdoux can just abdon Walter here. What kind of person would he be if he just left a helpless child to defend himself on the worst streets in London? And even though London will never be his home, Hisirdoux isn’t cruel enough to force a child away from the place they have so clearly determined to be their home.
But Hisirdoux is nothing but adaptable, centuries of travel and changing cultures and languages will do that to a person. And so Hisirdoux quickly finds himself donning a pair of canvas trousers and joining the toshers down in the sewers beneath London. It’s grueling work, and he despises it with a passion. But a job is a job, and money is money regardless of where it comes from. The grind truly never ends. But it hardly matters how much he loathes the work if it means he can save Walter the burden of having to grow up faster than a child should in the name of survival. Plus Hisirdoux has survived worse than toxic fumes and swarms of rats.
But despite his efforts, Hisirdoux finds himself still not earning enough money. He isn’t quite sure what to do. Compared to the other men who slosh through the sewers in search for bits and bobbles to sell, Hisirdoux has the advantage of his magic to use to find the most valuable of objects. And still, he finds he hardly has enough coin to purchase adequate food for a growing boy.
Hisirdoux could perhaps begin purchasing food of a lower quality and smaller quantity. But after Merlin took him in and he began eating regular healthy meals, Hisirdoux felt his body change as he was no longer fighting for survival each and every day. For the first time in his life he could devote energy to music and magic, the hobbies that he loves and lives for. Hisirdoux wants that for Walter, for him to discover his own passions in life.
And so if Hisirdoux goes hungry every now and then, well, what Walter doesn’t know will not hurt him. Sure Archie may be worried for him, but Archie can be quite overprotective at times. Hisirdoux is old enough to make his own choices without consulting his familiar, even if those choices come at the expense of his own health. So as long as Walter remains none the wiser, then there are no consequences to his choices.
This facade is going quite well if Hisirdoux says so himself. He’s gotten quite good at this whole lying business.
But when Walter comes back to their makeshift hovel one night covered head to toe in soot from the chimneys he had been cleaning all day, proudly carrying his earnings of a single shilling, Hisirdoux realizes that he has not been as successful as he had thought.
He sighs as he takes in Walter’s appearance. While his clothes hadn’t been the cleanest before, they were outright filthy now. Luckily Hisirdoux has his magic which will get the soot out in no time at all, as no amount of scrubbing will help in the slightest. Though he will have to find a time to clean the clothes in secret, which is not a problem he can find a solution for at the moment. Besides, he has much more pressing issues to attend to.
“I truly appreciate the effort you have gone to Walter,” Hisirdoux says, careful of his words. “But chimney sweeping? You’re far too old to start now! You could get seriously burned or stuck inside a chimney. There are far too many dangers for this to ever be a worthwhile job.”
Walter frowns and Hisirdoux mentally kicks himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. He doesn’t control Walter, and attempting to do so will only make the situation worse. “To begin with, I’m more than aware of the risks but I am also capable of taking care of myself thank you very much,” he huffs. “And second, I have to do this. I know we’re running out of coin, and I refuse to let you support the both of us alone.”
Hisirdoux sighs. “The point isn’t that we are not in need of coin, but rather that it shouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re a child, Walter.”
“I am not a child,” Walter, only a few weeks into his twelfth year, deadpans.
“Alright, fine not a child,” Hisirdoux concedes, “but you are still young! You should be out..oh I don’t know what do the youth do these days?”
“They chimney sweep, or sell matches, or I don’t know, they work? Exactly as I am doing.”
Ah. Right, poverty. “Alright I suppose that is fair.”
“Exactly! So why then, is it so unreasonable for me to be working as well,” Walter says slowly as if talking to a particularly stupid child.
“Because if all you are bringing in is a single shilling then it would be best for you to not be risking your safety in the first place!”
“At least I have a shilling! That’s more than you have to your name,” Walter scoffs. “Considering we are in such dire straits, I am already quite unsafe. What does it matter if I climb through chimneys if I bring in a bit of coin?”
“It matters because you should not be working and you should be enjoying your childhood!”
“Well I can hardly enjoy my ‘childhood’ while living in an alley,” Walter rolls his eyes.
Hisirdoux sighs, running a hand down his face. He knows he hasn’t been doing a fantastic job, but maybe what little he has done isn’t enough.
“Plus,” Walter continues. “I am well aware that you are running yourself ragged while trying to care for me. You are woefully unsubtle.” Walter crosses his arms, and looks off to the side, purposefully avoiding Hisirdoux’s gaze. “Besides…I somewhat care for you…despite how unbearable you can be. You are only human, there is only so much you can do. And I…appreciate the efforts you have gone to care for me, but you should not do so at the expense of your own health.”
“Oh,” Hisirdoux pauses. “But you still-”
“I know I shouldn’t have to,” Walter grumbles. “But this is the life we’re living! You shouldn’t, I don’t know…” he trails off, waving his hand in the air as he searches for the right words. “You shouldn’t run yourself ragged to chase after some ideal childhood for me that is not possible to achieve. You’ve done more than enough.”
Hisirdoux blinks as he processes Walter’s words, his heart swelling with warmth and love, so much so he can’t help but sweep Walter up in a hug.
“Gross, absolutely disgusting,” Walter grumbles. “You still smell of the sewers.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Your’s,” Walter says, to which Hisirdoux laughs.
The two are quiet for a moment, the noise of the city life filling the air. “I didn’t know you cared so much,” Hisirdoux says, voice soft.
Walter pushes back against Hisirdoux’s chest to give him a surprised look. “Of course I do. How dense can you be?”
“Apparently much more than I realized,” Hisirdoux says as Walter laughs.
It’s not late at night, the stars have yet to come out to twinkle in the sky, but the weight of the conversation pulls at Hisirdoux’s bones, tiredness easing into his muscles. He gently eases the two of them onto the small cot they have tucked into the alleyway. It’s not the most comfortable of beds, but it’s more than Walter had before. Perhaps it’s the small improvements in life that makes his efforts worth the trouble.
“I’m not going to tell you to stop chimney sweeping,” Hisirdoux says, surprising himself. “It’s a smart decision on your part to secure income, no matter how much I would rather you didn’t have to.”
“Of course it’s a smart decision,” Walter huffs. “I’m much smarter than you are.”
Hisirdoux laughs. “Oh I don’t doubt that for a second.”
Walter snickers and snuggles into Hisirdoux’s side. “You know you still smell awful. You realize that don’t you? Have you ever heard of a bath?”
“Oh my apologies your highness, I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of the king himself. Besides, have you smelled yourself recently? Chimney smoke is a far cry from eau de toilette.”
Walter wrinkles his nose.“For your information I smell wonderful,” he lifts his arm to his face and gags at the smell, “I could walk into Buckingham palace myself and have the guards throw themselves at my feet for how clean and prim and proper I am.”
“Well while you are galavanting amongst the royals, I best be getting to sleep,” Hisirdoux stretches, shifting around to get comfortable. “I have a long day tomorrow with the toshers.”
“I suppose I should sleep as well,” Walter says. “Since I don’t live with the family I’m working for I’ll need to be up early to make it for the first cleaning.”
“Smart boy, you are,” Hisirdoux says. “But don’t you dare overwork yourself. If I catch wind of you spending day and night in the chimneys, I don’t care who you’re working for, I will drag you home and you will never work a day in your life.”
“Fine,” Walter rolls his eyes.
“And if I see too many scrapes and scabs or god forbid,” Hisirdoux gasps. “If you come home covered in burns you will never see the light of day.”
Walter throws his hands up in the air in mock frustration. “How did I find the most annoying mother hen in all of London? Fine yes, if I get too injured I’ll stop and I won’t overwork myself. Are you happy?”
“Perfectly pleased,” Hisirdoux smiles.