Michael

A week has gone by since Michael awoke from his coma. The days have been difficult, he had continually tried to walk further and when he failed, he was bored out of his mind. He had little to do in his room aside from thinking and the only thing keeping him sane were the visits of his siblings.

Today he was finally allowed to leave his room, but he had to always take a guard. The man following him wherever he went was a knight of the house, named Sir Lance. He was young, and probably just became a knight but he was Michael's new guardian knight. Michael didn't care though; he didn't need a guard anyway.

Sitting in the courtyard watching the training of the squires, he appreciated the fresh air, the sun on his skin, and the show of martial prowess in front of him.

The commander of the knights Sir Godfrey was leading the training and to be honest he was mostly just beating the squires up. He was currently in a duel with a tall boy armed with a wooden shield and sword. He battered the shield with his two-handed sword and the squire could barely even keep on his feet.

He tried to counter after parrying a strike, but Godfrey was faster than any normal man should be and rammed his raised elbow right into the head of the squire. The boy stumbled back from the strike and couldn't gain his footing before Godfrey delivered a kick against the wooden shield and the squire fell and hit the ground hard.

“Jeffrey,” the commander bellowed, “You really have learned nothing, have you? You always try to take that thick skull of yours and head straight through the wall”.

Michael could hear Sir Lance shift uncomfortably next to him at the display, but Michael paid him no mind.

“I am stronger than you, have more experience than you, and I am an aura-level augmenter,” the commander continued tearing into the squire. “How do you think a direct confrontation will go? I am really losing patience with you.”

“What is an aura level augmenter,” Michael asked Sir Lance.

“Aura level is the highest rank for an augmenter,” the knight answered.

“And what is an augmenter,” Michael followed up.

“A physical type of mana user,” Lance didn't seem to be paying attention and just automatically answered.

“Sir Lance,” Michael said forcefully. The man seemed surprised at the tone and realized a second later what had happened.

“Milord?”

“Is there a problem with my questions or why are your answers this lackluster,” Michael scolded the knight.

Lance looked increasingly more confused at the whole situation and stuttered, “No milord, I just ....” Michael cut him off and said, “You didn't think a child would understand?” He stared down at the knight, who seemed very uncomfortable with the situation. After a moment Lance seemed to wisen up and started to explain, “Augmenting is one of the three forms of mana usage. It describes the practice of using mana to enhance one's body and mind, like being stronger, faster, or having better reflexes. Everyone can use it but how well depends on the size of your mana well and your expertise.”

Michael was happy about the more thorough explanation and followed up with, “What is a mana well?”

Lance was still standing in full attention while answering stiffly, “The mana well is around your heart, and it stores all your mana while you don't use it.”

Michael nodded and said, “Okay, better,” then he turned back to the training. He could hear Lance exhaling like he had been holding his breath.

There is so much I know nothing about, Michael thought. Maybe I should ask Lance more questions.

He frowned at the thought of having to order him around to get sufficient answers and decided to look for someone who would be more enthusiastic about teaching him things. A moment later he realized what he had just done. The whole exchange was not really like him since when could he be so forceful? He frowned and was about the dive into the thought but stopped himself. It doesn't really matter.

Michael stood up and turned back to his escort, who instantly tensed up the moment he did.

“Can you bring me to Father Albion, please, I don't know the way.”

The knight gave him a slight bow and led the way. He brought him inside through the wooden hallways, past multiple guards in chain mail and servants hectically running around. Most took the time to show their respect for the young lordling in passing but for some reason, Michael didn't like it.

Lance had to slow down a few times to allow the boy to catch up, but they finally arrived in front of a door, in one of the side corridors.

“This is the study of Father Albion, he is here most of the time as far as I know,” the knight said and stood at attention again. Michael inspected the knight for a moment, wondering if he was playing a joke on him, he then nodded and gestured to the knight that he would like to enter. Lance then knocked on the door and after a second a voice came from inside, “Enter.” After Lance had opened the door Michael ordered him to stay outside and entered the room.

The room seemed small, with a couple of books and paper scrolls lying around. He had seen them before when Father Albion was teaching his siblings reading and writing. He once heard Oska say that books are the most horrible thing that had ever been created, one reason to like books to be honest if they make the life of the twins hell.

At a small and chaotic table sat an old man, wrapped in the clean white cloak of the priesthood. He had always scared Michael a little, his haggard face tended to throw frightening shadows but now he didn't seem as frightening anymore to Michael. His fallen in eyes were following the young lord as he entered the room, judgment streaming from them, but Michael didn't know why.

“You missed the last sermon,” he said, the disapproval clear as the day in his voice.

“I am sorry,” Michael replied distracted by the books which caused a weird amount of intrigue in him. He didn't notice the old man frown at the disrespect and changed the subject, “You are teaching my siblings, right?”

“That is right, I am teaching them reading, writing, math, and religious virtues,” Albion said, still fixating on the boy.

Michael bowed down to pick up a scroll. The priest shot up and shouted, “Do not touch that, that is a valuable scroll containing the teachings of god and not a toy!”

Michael looked at him startled and took a step back. “Why is a valuable scroll lying on the ground where anybody could just step on it,” Michael asked baffled.

Michael could see the old man getting more and more irritated by him, so he quickly tried to change the subject before he had any chance to irritate the man even more.

“I was just wondering if you could start teaching me stuff too, I would like to learn,” Michael said enthusiastically.

Father Albion was not so quick to forget his earlier remarks though and replied while staring at the boy, “The first thing I would have to teach you is manners and respect it seems.”

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Michael just stood there keeping eye contact with the priest for a couple of seconds while thinking about the whole exchange, and then he said truthfully, “I am sorry, Father Albion. I have shown you disrespect, and I apologize, ever since I woke up my mind seems to be somewhat unfocused. I would appreciate you teaching me, be it manners or everything else.”

After his explanation, he bowed to Albion and held that position while waiting for him to speak. The room stayed silent, after half a minute Michael rose and looked at the man to see why he hadn't responded.

Albion was standing there as if he had suddenly become a statue, his eyes were wide open, fixated on Michael, his mouth pressed shut and he seemed to be trembling slightly. After Michael had risen, Albion's right hand quickly moved to his sun pendant, and he started to whisper something.

“Are you alright,” Michael asked and took a step closer, Albion moved back at the same time and said with a shaking voice, “You must leave here now, this is a holy place.”

“But I …”, Michael tried to argue but Albion shouted, “NOW!”

Michael was startled by this and wanted to say something but then just shook his head, turned around, and left the room.

Hmm, what did I do, Michael wondered.

----------------------------------------

Sola

“He is not normal!”

Sola could hear the shouting before she even entered Lord Rowan's study. Once inside she could also see who it was that was trying to convince Lord Rowan of something unnatural, it was the court priest of House Rowan, Father Albion. Sola couldn't stand the priest, to describe him as conservative and superstitious would be an understatement and to have him as the teacher for the children of Lord Rowan was akin to a crime.

Other than the priest only Lord Rowan, Sir Godfrey Pyke, and Viscount Sygnus Telp were present. The viscount was the chancellor of Lord Rowan's council of advisors and probably the second most powerful man in the Rowan domain. He was halfway through the room when she entered seemingly just arriving himself and turned his head to see who had entered behind him. He then greeted the priestess with a smile and a respectful nod.

Lord Rowan was looking relieved when he saw Sola enter, an expression she would have expected from the stoic man after the end of a battle and not because of a rambling priest.

“Milord, you have sent for me?” Albion turned around; it seemed he hadn't noticed her arrival. He didn't look pleased that he had been interrupted.

Might just be his face, Sola thought and shrugged mentally.

“Yes,” Lord Rowan answered, “Father Albion has quite the accusation to share about Michael and as you have spent some time with him and are probably well educated in these fields, I wanted to hear your opinion on it.”

“Accusations? He is a six-year-old. What kind of accusations could you have against a boy,” she asked the priest sarcastically.

He was looking completely serious as always but seemed a little out of breath, he had probably tried to talk Lord Rowan into submission for some time already. He spat out with pure hatred echoing in his voice, “The boy is a tenfold cursed demon child, may Idas give us strength to smite this foul spawn!”

Sola blinked once, looked at Lord Rowan, and then back, finally, she asked Albion, “Are you kidding me?”

Sola waited for a moment for someone to tell her this was a bad joke. No one did, so she turned to Lord Rowan and said unbelieving, “He is not serious, is he? That is complete rubbish, demon children are just a crazy fairy tale.”

“They exist,” Albion protested and took another deep breath.

Viscount Telp raised his hand before the court priest could start a sermon and said, “Can someone please explain to me, in words I can understand and without too many mentions of smiting and god's wrath, what exactly a demon child is supposed to be and why the timid Michael is supposed to be one?”

Sola quickly jumped in before the court priest could, and started to explain, “Demon children are an old theory in some of the more superstitious parts of the Inquisition. The theory is that the soul of a child is pulled into the demon realm through his dreams.”

Lord Telp raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything while Sola continued, “Once in the grasp of the demons, the child will be tortured and broken until it submits to the demon. It will then be educated and trained in the art of seduction and manipulation and then sent back. Once returned the demon child will manipulate other children into doing evil or just do it itself.”

“Demon children form cults, murder their families, and slaughter the followers of Idas,” Albion added.

“To be honest the theory is really unclear about what demon children exactly do in the end,” Sola countered. “They can do what we have described or become ruthless crime bosses or influential traders or a dozen other things.”

She then turned to Albion and said in a confrontational tone, “And that is the main reason why this theory is not supported by the church, it is just a convenient explanation for people that are evil with which people can pull themselves out of the responsibility. Also, there has never been any case where a demon child could be brought to confession without explaining what a demon child is and how they are made.”

“The demon worshipers are more afraid of their masters than us,” Albion argued.

“What a convenient explanation but how do you explain to them admitting it after they have been explained to them what it is, the knowledge that we know makes them more afraid of us all the sudden?”

The priest wanted to reply something, but Lord Rowan stopped him and said, “Okay stop. Please, Father Albion, explain your reasons why you believe Michael to be a demon child, you can argue after that.”

Albion cleared his throat and then began, “Well, obviously my first indicator is his long sleep, I believe that this was the time when he was being broken and educated by the demons.”

Sola rolled her eyes and wanted to counter but a strict glance from Lord Rowan compelled her to keep silent for now.

Albion continued calmly, “Secondly when he visited me today, I noticed that his whole character has changed, he is way too mature, he talks like an adult, and his eyes.” He shuddered. “His eyes seemed to pierce through me, he completely changed, he suddenly asked me to start teaching him when only a few days before his unconsciousness he couldn't care less. The last reason is the blatant disrespect he had for me and the holy scriptures when he visited me, but after I confronted him with it he noticed and instantly tried to pull back as if he tried to mask his behavior. That is not normal child behavior."

“Sister Sola what do you think,” Lord Rowan turned to her.

“Okay, first of all, his coma was most probably caused by a violent magic affinity awakening of ...,” Sola started.

“Ha, see! He already is starting his road to damnation,” Albion interrupted her with an arrogant smile.

“Father Albion, would you mind keeping your tongue in check, I didn't interrupt you either,” she snapped at the priest, to which the man wanted to reply something, but Sola just kept talking. “If you had let me finish you would have heard that he awakened the light affinity and I presume you will not suggest that the light mages are inherently evil,” Sola gazed at the priest, but he didn't seem to want to say anything.

“In respect to the other two points, I also believe that Michael has changed from how he has been described to me before to how he acts when I was with him. In contrast to the honorable court priest, I do not believe that he was changed by demons or anything. It is not unheard of that people change after traumatic events, like a soldier losing his mind after a battle or a mother becoming suicidal after her children die. This also happens with children and from my experience is that children with hard lives tend to be more mature earlier than children with sheltered lives. I propose the explanation that due to the stress of the affinity awakening his mind had to mature at a rapid speed to survive.”

“That is complete rubbish, do you have any proof for this theory,” Albion said while throwing his hand up in disbelief.

“Well, there are enough examples in this world, that a person can change completely because of an event, but not that much proof for him being pulled into the demon realm,” Sola replied smugly.

Viscount Telp chuckled and said, “I would agree with the sister on this point.”

Albion frowned and turned to Lord Rowan who had listened quietly and said, “Milord, I suggest we call upon the Inquisition to send someone to ascertain the truth. We all here do not have the proper experience to pass an informed judgment.”

"Suddenly we don't have the experience when you lose the argument. You seem very quick to change opinions. Were you also this quick in condemning Michael or did you take a little more time there," Sola's anger began to break free.

Lord Rowan raised his hand signaling them to be quiet. He just sat there lost in thought. Sola had no idea what he would decide. She guessed that he loved his son, but he also hadn't visited him since he had awoken so maybe he didn't.

He then looked up at Father Albion and said, “Request denied,” without further explanation.

“Milord, this is a risk for the family and maybe even the whole county,” Albion protested.

“I made my decision Albion,” he growled.

“I will still have to report this to the church,” the priest insisted.

Cedric Rowan rose from his chair and a sudden pressure fell on the room. Sola's breathing got laborious, and she pushed mana into her body to defend herself from the pressure. Before anything could escalate Sola jumped in, “Milord, I suggest both me and Father Albion write a report and send it to the holy mountain. From there the church can decide what to do.” The pressure immediately lifted, and Lord Rowan's attention shifted towards her; after a brief moment, he nodded in agreement.

Albion didn't seem happy with this and said, “I will not have anything to do with him, so keep him out of my sermons and away from my study.”

“If that is the case, I will also request from the church for me to be placed here long term to guide and educate young Michael, which you will also probably not do, right,” Sola gave Albion a cold smile.

He shook his head in disbelief but didn't say anything.

“Good, now that that is settled, I have work to do,” Lord Rowan said, his mood visibly foul.