Today was an average day like any other. The only surprise was that Melissa came to visit. After a quick uncomfortable hug, she headed inside to talk with Henry and left Lark outside alone. Boredom set in quickly, and he searched for something to do.
After kicking the dirt for a few minutes, he sat down and just zoned out for a bit. It was at times like these that he wished they had books. He would bring it up to his father, but Lark knew how expensive literature was in medieval times, and by the fact that his father didn't know what a printing press was, it wouldn't be different here either. He wouldn’t want to be a bother.
‘No point in doing absolutely nothing, might as well get some exercise’ Lark thought.
So, with nothing else to do, he took a walk in the forest. While he was walking, he contemplated if there was anything productive he could do. They didn’t need any meat, and they hadn’t the storage for it, either, so hunting was off the activity list. They didn’t need water, so there was no need to head to the river, and their vegetable stocks were fine, so he had no need to forage.
This was, in Lark’s opinion, the worst part about being in a time analogous to the medieval ages.
Boredom.
For the most part, if you were well off, you had nothing to do all day if you weren’t working or drinking. And if you weren’t well off? Well, you would be too tired from backbreaking work to care.
Knowing that he shouldn’t complain about not having to do backbreaking labor, Lark set his thoughts in a different direction. Speculation. This was a world of swords, sure, but Lark had yet to see any signs of sorcery.
That was the thing, though, what isekai didn’t have magic? It was unheard of! Or maybe it wasn’t, but that wasn’t what Lark wanted to think about right now! ‘Besides’, Lark thought, ‘I literally have claws and sharp teeth growing from my mouth, and the other day I think I saw my eyes glow a bit, if that isn’t a sign of magic, I don’t know what is.’
Speaking of the claws and teeth, he may have been slightly exaggerating how prominent those really were. Sure, if you were looking closely enough, you might notice that his teeth are slightly sharper than the average person, and his nails the same, but you could hardly call them claws. The eyes, though, those were noticeable, and the glowing wasn’t his imagination, as he already knew.
All of that was beside the point, though. The point was that he was going to figure out how magic worked, and when he did, he was going to… well he was going to do something cool, and that was all that mattered.
With anticipation, he lifted his hand, pointed it towards a tree, and concentrated with all his might. After a few seconds of nothing happening, he heard a voice come from behind.
“Are you constipated or something?”
After a short jump and a very manly yelp, Lark turned around to look at his father.
“NO!” he shouted, and his voice cracked, “I mean… so what brings you out here father.” He finished.
‘Smooth recovery there, Lark.’ he thought depreciatingly at himself.
With an amused grin, his father said, “Smooth recovery there, lad.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Continuing on, he said, “I was just making sure my son doesn’t do anything too dangerous with his immense magical power.”
With a shit-eating grin on his face, he continued, “Make sure you're careful, alright? What with all that power, anyone might go mad. I know you’ll use it responsibly, though, won’t you?”
“I don’t know why I told you about wanting magic,” Lark said in a pouty voice, “The moment I get my first spell I’m using it to turn you into a troll. That would at least reflect your true colors.”
“Ow! How you wound me so! My own son, turned against me by the allure of foul sorcery! What shall I do!” His father spoke dramatically.
For a moment, they shared the most intense glare they could muster… and then broke out into laughter.
It was at moments like these that Lark was the happiest
But like all good things, It couldn’t last forever, and shortly thereafter the moment passed.
“What is it that you and aunt Melissa talk about, anyway? Why can’t I be inside when you talk about it?”
“Ah, it’s just us old folks reminiscing, don’t pay us any mind. What spell were you trying to get to work this time?”
“I was testing to see if magic was influenced by willpower, but I’m guessing it must some sort of rune system, like something that relies on knowledge, or perhaps it’s an inborn skill. Maybe it’s-”
Continuing to talk about how magic may work, Lark had already forgotten that this was his father’s attempt to distract him. Of course, Lark didn’t initially want to talk about magic with him at all, fearing suspicion about his origins, but something about being in a younger body made him more open.
There is perhaps another reason why Lark was being so open with his father, but that was something that Lark didn’t want to accept quite yet. The fact that maybe, just maybe, Lark really did trust his father, and there were no biology shenanigans involved at all.
“As interesting as all that sounds, Melissa and I were having a conversation before I came out here to check on you. I have to go entertain our guest, I can’t go being a bad host, after all. Love you, kiddo.”
“Mhm,” Lark hummed back, not quite having worked up enough courage to say it back. He would, though. One day. He was sure of it.
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Inside
“Have you spent any time thinking about what Larks going to do when he leaves the nest?” Melissa asked confrontationally.
“Of course I have, but I can’t think of anything that a ‘blind’ man could do! I’m a soldier, Melissa, not the king’s advisor! I don’t even know all the jobs that a normal man could get!”
“Don’t get snappy with me, Henry! I told you that this was going to be a struggle when you decided to keep him. Why are you so married to this “blind” idea anyway?”
“I know.” Henry spoke, sighing. “And I’m sorry for snapping at you”
“Do you have any better ideas besides covering his eyes?” Henry said, catching up with what Melissa said last.
“Don’t get mad at me for saying this, but maybe you could just… tell the church-”
“What! How could you even say that! I thought you-”
Interrupting his rant, Melissa said, “Wait, hear me out for a second. I doubt the church would kill him, especially with your title. I’ve been looking into church records, and when a cursed child is born to a noble family, they typically get a chance to prove themselves. This is usually by working with the church for a couple of years, and going through a few purification rituals. Nothing even close to fatal. This is the only way I can see him living a normal life.”
“That’s… not a terrible idea, but how can you be certain they won’t slay him? Is this a precedent at the church? I certainly haven’t heard of it before.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a great look for the Church if they were shown being lenient on the Cursed Children. After all, the working class hate them.”
“That is the crux of the issue, isn’t it? The hatred of those that are different from them.”
“Henry, I don’t know if you need me to tell you this or not, but you're very biased on this topic. According to the scriptures, Cursed Children tear at the very essence of the heavens. They steal it for their own nefarious ends! How can you blame those who’ve never met a Cursed Child for hating them? They have literally never heard a good thing about them.”
“But if they would just talk to one!-”
“You’re being unreasonable! Cursed Children are rarer than chickens teeth, for Kor’s sake! This is the first one I’ve heard of in centuries! The only reason people even know about them is because of the scriptures!”
They both sat in silence for a while after that.
Breaking the tension, Melissa said, “just… give the church some thought, okay? I’m sure he’d be much happier if he could go out without having to hide his identity.”
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll… consider it.” He said through gritted teeth.
“That’s all I can ask.”
“Goodbye, Melissa. May Kor guide your path.”
“And yours as well”
Watching Melissa leave, Henry was already considering her words. Within a few moments, he came to a conclusion.
I’ll leave the choice to Devon. When he turns fifteen, I’ll ask if he wants a chance at a normal life, and if he’s willing to risk going to the church.