stewardship
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The Steward of the House watched from a space no mortal could see. He had long overseen the safety and well being of the House and its land. Even after his first master had died, he had continued his stewardship. And he would not rest so long as the House still stood. For it was his sacred task. A task he would never fail.
But now the House was lonely. He was lonely. He needed a new master. The House needed new residents. New people he could swear his loyalty to. So far, the offerings had been poor. There had been people, known in modern times as real estate agents, who had tried to sell the House to inferior people. The Steward would never allow that to happen, and so he invoked his right as guardian to drive them off. Now he observed another group who sought to claim the House.
The agent came with two people, a man and a woman. Both were young and seemed fit. The agent spoke.
“Now, this is a real prize winner. A real piece of history. It’s literally older than the country, since it was built way back in the late 1600s. How’s that for historic?”
“Amazing.” The man said. “We’re both pretty big on history, so being able to own something that’s seen so much of it is like a dream come true.”
Learned people. That was good. Intelligent people were far better masters than those who were dim witted. And these two seemed to be able to appreciate the House and all that it stood for. The agent continued talking, telling the family about the House and the various rooms.
“Is it all original?” The woman asked.
“Most of it.” The agent said. “It’s been brought up to modern code, of course. You can tell that easily just by the electric lights. But just about everything you can actually see is either original or a refurbished version of the original.”
The woman let out a low whistle and ran her hands over the wood. The Steward had had mixed feelings about granting those men the rights to change the House. But he had to admit they had done a good job, and the newer installations did help keep its longevity intact. He nodded as he watched the tour, noting the couple’s reactions to the agent.
“So, you two have any kids or pets?”
“We have a two year old boy.” The man said proudly. “He’s home with grandma now.”
“We also have a husky.” The woman said. “He’s a total sweet heart. We know he needs a lot of space to run around though, and our old place was just too small. This is a lot bigger, so he should be a lot happier here.”
A, a fine thing. An heir, should they prove worthy, and an ever loyal dog. He had seen many with both of those things, but from these two he felt much more life and warmth. The Steward peered beyond the mortal world, and viewed their spirits.
They were not perfect. But even his previous master was not without flaws. The man had a deep seeded violent streak, but the Steward could tell it was well tamed. Probably by those modern fictional combat methods, or athletic endeavors. The woman held others to standards that were too high for most. Not quite a perfectionist, but she seemed to want to bring out more than most people could give. That could be an issue, but it did not seem she did so out of malice, but a sincere belief that those around her could live up to her lofty expectations.
The Steward of the House considered. These two were not perfect. But no man ever was. And they were the closest thing to being worthy of the House that he had yet seen. Perhaps they would do. Perhaps they would be worthy masters for his Stewardship. Should they obtain the House, he would watch and see if they were worthy. If they were, he would reveal himself and swear his loyalty. If they were not, he would drive them out and return to the search. That was the way of it, and that was the way it would always be. Until he found a new master of the House.
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After writing this story, I get the feeling I've written something similar to it in the past. Oh well, it's written now and I'm not changing it. So there, ha ha.
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