Chapter 4

Kenny’s heart was still pounding from the events of the morning, and his mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. His legs moved on autopilot as he followed his uncle back to the blacksmith shop. But the air in the workshop felt heavy now, like the space between them was filled with something unspoken, something he couldn't quite shake off.

Kenny barely acknowledged Orvin’s presence as they entered the dimly lit workshop. He just wanted to escape, to hide from the nightmare that had unfolded. The weight of what he had witnessed gnawed at him, and the thought of speaking more about it made his throat tighten. His uncle’s voice broke through his thoughts.

"The thing that you want me to take to that rich client, is it General Locke?" Kenny asked.

"Let's talk about this morning", his tone sharp.

Kenny winced. He didn’t want to talk about that—he didn’t want to talk about anything. He just wanted the day to end, to forget. “Not now, Orvin. I can’t.”

Orvin’s eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Not now? We need to talk about Wang. Someone is dead, and your story doesn't line up”

Kenny stiffened at the mention of the old man. His mind flinched back to the gruesome image of the attack, the final, cryptic words from Wang’s mouth. He swallowed hard.

“Can it wait till you get home?” Kenny asked, trying to avoid the conversation for a little longer.

“Spit it out now!” Orvin’s voice was demanding, unyielding.

Kenny’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he didn’t know where to start. It all seemed too unreal, too absurd. How could he explain the chaos, the inexplicable magic, the tattoo? He wasn’t even sure what he saw himself, but he had to tell Orvin. He had to make him understand.

Taking a deep breath, Kenny began. “I went to see Wang this morning, like usual. Then two people came in—a man and a woman. They seemed to know him. Wang… he—he froze them in place, like with magic or something. I don’t know. It was like they couldn’t move. Then… then Wang brought out this stone did something with his hand, something strange — the stone became liquid and he gave me a tattoo... with the liquefied stone.”

Kenny hesitated, his voice faltering as he continued. “The two people—they broke free, attacked Wang, and I ran. Wang told me to leave, said something like, ‘Find Hernie.’ That was the last thing he said before…” Kenny trailed off, the words catching in his throat.

He looked at Orvin, half-expecting disbelief, but what he saw was something worse. Orvin’s face was unreadable at first, his eyes narrowing in skepticism. The silence between them grew thick, and Kenny realized just how ridiculous it all sounded. Magic? A tattoo that no one else could see? It was mad. He couldn’t blame Orvin for not believing him.

Orvin’s expression shifted, his patience clearly wearing thin and let out an exasperated sigh. “Show me,” he said, his voice low and controlled, but the anger simmering beneath was clear.

“Show you what?” Kenny asked, his confusion palpable.

“The tattoo!” Orvin’s voice grew louder, a dangerous edge to it. He stared at Kenny with burning intensity. “You’re telling me you have a tattoo, so show me.”

"Oh", Kenny extended his arm quickly, it was the only evidence that he has, but his uncle’s response was not what he expected.

“What? Where is it?” Orvin’s voice was barely a whisper, but the disbelief in it stung. !!! Kenny’s heart skipped a beat. Why is he asking. “Here!” Kenny insisted, feeling his breath catch in his throat. He pointed to the spot where the faint, intricate mark had settled just moments before, his voice trembling. “It’s right here.”

But Orvin’s eyes darted over the skin, a frown deepening on his face. “Are you kidding me?” he demanded. “What are you playing at, boy?”

Kenny’s stomach churned. His uncle’s rage was evident, but it wasn’t just anger. It was the kind of frustration that came from not understanding, from being caught in the middle of something completely inexplicable. Kenny felt the weight of his uncle’s stare, and it crushed him.

Kenny’s heart raced. “It’s here! I swear to you, Orvin, it’s right here!” His voice cracked, the frustration rising in his chest. He could feel it, the tattoo still there beneath his skin, faint but unmistakable. He doesn't know why his uncle can't see what was so obvious to him. "You have to believe me, I am looking at it now. You have to—"

“Get out!” Orvin’s voice cut through him like a blade. His face was red with fury. “And don’t come back until you’re ready to have some serious talk. Enough of this nonsense.”

Kenny recoiled, his chest tightening in shock. He hadn’t expected this, not from Orvin. He had never seen his uncle this angry before. He wanted to say something, anything, to explain, but the words failed him. Orvin’s glare silenced him before he could form a single syllable.

Kenny’s confusion deepened into panic. How could Orvin not see it? Orvin had no sense of humor—he wasn’t the type to joke around or pretend. Kenny’s mind spun. He felt his pulse quicken as he fought to keep his voice steady, but he was lost for words. Without another word, Kenny turned and left the shop, his mind spinning, his emotions in a whirlwind. What was he supposed to do now?

As he stepped out into the cool air, a sense of emptiness settled over him. The cool air outside did nothing to calm the heat in his chest, and as he walked away, the weight of his uncle’s anger seemed to press down on him, making it hard to breathe.

Kenny’s gaze wandered absently, and he noticed Orvin emerging from the shop, carrying a delivery bag. The older man didn’t spare him a glance as he passed by, his footsteps sharp and purposeful. Orvin wasn’t even pretending to acknowledge him.

Kenny’s heart sank.

Orvin, in his silence, had already made his decision. He was angry, disappointed, and maybe even afraid. And Kenny? He was lost, completely and utterly lost.

Orvin headed off toward Mr. Kanti’s shop, the cobbler’s place just a few doors down. Kenny heard the faint exchange between them as Orvin told Kanti he would handle the delivery himself. The words, though muffled, were clear enough: Orvin had decided to do things alone, without Kenny.

“Oh, doing delivery now?” Kanti’s voice drifted over from the workshop. “Why not let Kenny handle it?”

Orvin waved him off, his face a mask of grim determination.

Kenny stood there, a knot of despair twisting in his stomach. What now? Where did he go from here? His mind raced, but he couldn’t find a single answer. He looked at the door to Orvin’s shop one last time, as though hoping to find some sign, some solution. But there was nothing.

He turned and walked away, his feet taking him aimlessly down the street. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his uncle’s disappointment pressing on him like a mountain.

For the first time in his life, Kenny felt truly alone.