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Wight

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The sound of something breaking wakes me up. Looking around I see that Dad is sitting right beside my bed, sleeping in a comfy looking chair. Why’s he sleeping in my room? I look at him for a while but then get bored, so I reach over and poke his mustache. He lets out a grunt as he sits up with watery eyes.

Dad starts to talk to me with a tired voice. “Wight! How are you feeling, lad? Anything hurt, any aches?” Why is he asking me so many questions? I’m not hurt. I lift my blanket to make sure my legs are there… Yep, they are. So why’s he so scared?

“What’s wrong, Dad? I feel good and nothing hurts, so why are you upset?”

His mustache wiggles a bunch, like a caterpillar, while he changes his expression really fast. Eventually he stops looking so worried and changes his expression to the one he uses with other adults.

“Well, Wight… Coil fell asleep suddenly, and you’ve all been asleep for almost a week. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He tries to smile but it comes out weird.

I lean over and give him a pat on the head. “It’s alright, Dad, I’m okay!” I smile at him to show how okay I am, but he still looks sad. “Why are you still frowning, Dad?”

His face doesn’t change this time, instead staying that flat one he uses with the maids. “Wight, do you remember the forest?”

I think for a bit, eventually remembering the one where that granny was hurt. I feel my scales light up on my shoulders as I get mad. “Yeah! The stupid monsters hurt granny! I squashed it, and a voice from nowhere fixed the granny!” Remembering the granny is okay, my scales settle and disappear again. I look back up at Dad. His frown is still there.

“What about after that, Wight?” After fixing the granny? Well the voice said something, and then I fell asleep… does he mean that?

“I fell asleep! The nowhere voice called me a good kid and I fell asleep.” I nod, happy I remembered that much. Dad doesn’t look as happy though.

“Wight, something very bad happened after you fell asleep. The voice from nowhere hurt good people by using you.”

“Why would I hurt people!? They can’t do nothing to me, so I can just ignore them. I wouldn’t hurt them!”

Dad shakes his head with his dark face. “Wight, it wasn’t you who hurt them. It was the voice, using your body.” The voice from nowhere took my body?! I stare into Dad’s eyes, to make sure he’s telling the truth. He looks back at me for a long time before I decide he is. “Would you be willing to wear something to make the voice not able to use you again?”

My eyes get big at his words. “Yes! I don’t want someone using me to hurt people!” I feel my scales light up with my feelings, brightening the room.

Dad doesn’t say anything for a while. “Bud, if you do, your blessing won’t work either.” Dad is frowning, big type frown, not a little one. He never big frowns.

“What does that mean?” He’s being confusing! Just tell me!

“That means your scales. bud. You’d be able to be hurt too. You’d be a mostly normal boy while you wore it.”

I jump up on the bed, my scales lighting up all over me. I can feel wings of light open up behind me, flapping with my anger. “NO! Not my scales! You can’t take them!” Why would they want my scales!? They can have the voice but not my scales!

Dad’s face is brightly lit by me, so he’s squinting. “Your scales will come back after you take it off. You’ll only wear it for a while.” Dad is using his nice voice. I feel the wings close up behind me and vanish, dimming the room.

“So they'll come back?” I glare at him, but he still nods. “Fine, I’ll wear it.” The rest of my scales go out one by one and disappear. I plop down on my bed. I don’t really want to give my scales. But Dad said the voice hurt people, and I don’t want to hurt people… My vision goes blurry as drops of water fall onto the bed.

Dad moves to sit on the bed, and pulls me into a hug. For some reason my scales don’t push him back, and I bury myself against him.

I think I’m crying.

】〓〓〓〓【

Cleave

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My heart aches as the small, impish form in my arms finally relaxes into sleep. Gently I place the boy back into bed and cover him up. After leaving his bedroom, I slump to the floor. I throw a basic privacy bubble skill around me so that the maids won’t see me in this pitiful state. I hold my head and try to get a hold of myself.

This is better for Wight, it makes sure he can’t hurt anyone again. It’s not permanent, just until things get figured out. Rationally I know I’m doing the right thing, but my heart is filled with guilt all the same. The sound of the small boy crying is still in my ears, trying to drown out any reason I have. With a loud smack, I whack my own face a few times before standing up again.

That’s right, he’ll get his scales back. We aren’t ripping them off of him, just covering them up. It's temporary. I start my journey back to my office, thinking about what paperwork I have left. After doing that, I’m going to write that Pope. I must be involved with the sealing device, and a no will not be an option on that. There is no way a standard one will work on Wight without hurting the other kids.

With a start I realize I’m standing in front of my office, and have been for a while. I glance around the hall. Hope no one saw that. Going inside, I immediately notice a flashing green light from my desk. A communications from the church! How? The signal hasn’t been getting through for weeks! I rush over to my desk and pick up the small green stone. Giving it a good squeeze, I place it back on the desk, and a square of green light appears in the air before me.

At first the square is full of nothing but random colors, but slowly the colors order themselves into an image. The image of an ancient old man, wearing holy garb. Pope Raken. I give the image a sight bow before speaking.

“Your Holiness, to what do I owe the pleasure of receiving a call from you?” I keep my face still, calming my nerves. This guy always creeps me out a little. The image of the old man shifts a little, while making a slightly distorted sighing sound.

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“Count… I’m contacting you about your… child. I’ve received your letter about it, and the communications priest informed me the moment things were working again.” The old man’s face screws up as he stares at me. “Your child must be shackled, Holdings! The ability to wipe out an entire forest?! It does not matter if the blessing is from one of the gods or the demon king himself! A child should not have that much power! What happens when the brat gets mad that he can’t have dessert before dinner and blows your manor off the townheart?” He glares at me sternly before letting out another sigh. He rubs his face before continuing. “So let's hear what you want to say.”

I jump at a chance to speak, I have to get out in front of this man’s rambling. “Your Holiness, I agree that his blessing is too much for a child. However… there are extenuating circumstances that must be addressed!” I continue quickly in fear of being cut off. “You know of his situation. If we place a shackle on him, and one of his siblings wakes up, that will cut off their blessing and possibly their head!” My face is a cold mask, hiding my bubbling feelings beneath.

The Pope mulls over what I said for a moment. “You’re right, Holdings, we can’t have your children’s heads coming off when we’re trying to protect them.” He rubs his eyes before speaking again. “I have the child’s… Wight? I have his status stone. I’ll have the priests work with a mage to bind the shackle to the boy’s existence, separately from his siblings. That should address your concerns… Is that sufficient, Count?” The old man’s eyes flicker briefly with compassion.

I bow again to the Pope. “Thank you, your Holiness. That does relieve my worries.” I feel some of the weight on my heart lift, but only a bit. The Pope coughs to get my attention.

“Holdings… I expect double your typical donations this year for keeping quiet about everything you’ve thrown on my desk in the last six months.”

Before I can even respond, the stone turns off, leaving me in a dark office.

【〓〓〓〓】

Over the next few days I inform each of my children of the situation as they awaken. Luckily I’m able to speak to the whole roster of kids well before the shackling date arrives. There’s been no news from the knights, no reports on the dungeon team. The team monitoring the recent domestic attacks has been silent as well. After a couple mostly uneventful nights, I head to the Church with Wight.

The usually bombastic child sits across from me in the carriage, sullen and withdrawn. The boy is lost in thought, oblivious to the rocking of our ride. Occasionally the space is filled with golden light as his thoughts cause his scales to flicker into life for a few moments before dying out again. His suppressed demeanor digs at my heart.

“Boy, things will be alright. I won’t let anyone do anything bad to you.” My voice startles Wight, causing him to light up once again. My words seem to give him no confidence as he silently stares at me before returning his gaze to his shoes. A sigh escapes me, seeing him like this is painful. I decide not to bother him any further and instead look at the town clunking past the window.

My small section of Wornsbirth slowly crawls to a stop as the carriage comes to a halt. I look at my son and see that he’s covered in golden light, luminous wings flapping nervously behind him. I slowly wrap a cloak around him, wings and all. The small boy allows me to dress him, looking up at me glumly.

“Can I carry you, Wight? It’ll be easier for you to keep your wings hidden.” I feel my attempt at a smile falter slightly as he nods. After wrapping him a bit tighter, I hoist him up and step out of a carriage. Either I’m out of shape or this kid is heavier than he should be. Possibly both.

I walk up to the church, meeting Father Rex again. The priest's eyes are filled with fear of the child in my arms, and he’s not trying to hide it. Wight’s facing behind me, unaware, so I give Rex a withering glare. The holy man snaps out of it and wordlessly leads me around the side of the massive church. Soon we get to a small set of stone stairs that winds down to a heavy metal door. Father Rex pulls a key out and unlocks the door, which opens with surprising ease.

I walk into the darkness on the other side of the doorway. The only light is coming from my arms, Wight’s scales beaming gold into the blackened room. With a loud thud, the room is filled with a gentle light. The entire room is made of simple and smooth stone. The windowless walls are painted a light gray to match the drab floor. In the center of the room stands the Bishop with two others behind him.

The two people standing behind Father Wood are wearing smooth white masks with eight dashes around the outer edge. Adorned in heavy, ornate cloaks that hide their entire bodies, the two are clearly Vicars. I narrow my eyes at Wood.

“Father Wood, why are there Vicars here? You told me no one else would be told of the situation.” I give the two masked men a glare before looking back to the bishop. The man’s face twitches at me in annoyance.

“Of course I have Vicars here, Count! The boy wiped out half a forest. And the Vicars can’t be counted as being aware of the situation, they’ll forget everything that happened here within a few hours.” The short man waves his hand dismissively, causing my blood to rise.

“Let’s get this over with then, Father.” My words come out almost a snarl as I place my child down. The moment the boy’s feet touch the hard ground the cloak wrapped around him shreds into tatters. Wight’s scales are so bright I have to squint to be able to even look at him. His usually transparent plates are completely solid, hiding him from view. A glimmering tail of light whips behind him, like a cat waiting for a fight. His shoes are obscured by the impression of clawed feet, his hands surrounded by the same. The only part of him I can see is his face, which is twisted into a stoney glare. He looks like one of the illustrations from the books I read as a child, like he had just walked straight out of its pages.

The bishop gives me a glare, as if asking me to reign in my child. I just smile at the elder. “Here he is, Bishop. He knows why we’re here so he should be ready, right, Wight?” The small golden figure nods.

With a grimace, the bishop motions to the Vicars. The two tall figures move slowly, revealing unnaturally long limbs beneath their robes. One of them makes its way behind Wight in only a few steps. Attempting to hold the boy, the Vicar grabs his arms. Cracking sounds echo in the stone room as the Vicar recoils, its long fingers twisted at unsettling angles.

Wight finally speaks up, in a near snarl. “Just put it on, don’t touch me.” His words reverberate in the small room, rattling my head. The first Vicar retreats as the second pulls a small silver loop from beneath its clothes. Making sure to not touch the glowing gold surrounding Wight, it clicks the ring around the child’s neck.

The moment the shackle is closed, something feels off. Wight collapses to the floor, his golden lights disappearing instantly. He cries out in pain as black lightning flickers around the silver necklace. I reach out for him, but a tendril of shadow shoots from the boy’s own and pushes me back onto my rear. Several more tendrils shoot from beneath him, coiling around the electrified metal. The two Vicars move quickly towards the boy, pulling swords from somewhere. Before they can even take a step, though, their legs are wrapped by more shadows.

Wight screams again, shaking the entire room. The gem lights flicker for a moment. The momentary darkness is lit by black light from the arcs of lightning surrounding the boy’s neck. Eventually the shadowy tentacles are burned away by the ripples of dark lightning, and the small boy slumps to the floor.

The moment the energy disperses, I run to the child’s side and lift him up. I whirl around and glare at the bishop. “Remove it, now!” I snap.

Surprisingly the bishop nods at me, and motions at the Vicars. The one with still-functioning fingers quickly moves forward and removes the small necklace. The golden lights do not come back, and the small boy remains unconscious in my arms.

The bishop takes back the godforsaken shackle, assuring me that the Church will find out what went wrong. I immediately take my son back to the carriage and tell the driver to hurry. I lay the small child down on the opposite bench before clutching my head.

He has to be alright. He has a pulse, he’s alive, there’s no burns. I try to calm myself by breathing deeply. As I methodically breathe in and out, the small figure in front of me slowly fades into nothing. I panic momentarily until I see small scraps of cloth pop off onto the floor.

It’s Luna, just Luna. They’re okay. I spend the rest of the ride home slowly calming down. My attempts are sadly in vain, because the moment we get out of the carriage I see Captain Jet walking towards us. In the larger man’s arms is another of my children. I tell the nearest maid to get me booze.