Jerome paused for a bit.

Rihal? What’s got him all worked up, he thought. He was still a few hundred paces and two floors away from Kilian’s study, but his hearing had improved greatly ever since Pilgrims’ Keep. Not only that, his sense of smell and sight had also improved. Jerome honed in with his ears, wanting to hear more.

“The Elders say it’s dangerous to have him around since he had an episode during Pilgrims’ Keep. Please close the do—” and Kilian’s voice was cut off just like that.

Damn! Now he was curious. What are they discussing about me? Episode? What episode? They must mean the uncontrollable rage I felt almost throughout Pilgrims’ Keep. How did they know about that? Could they monitor my emotions during Pilgrims’ Keep? He remembered Rihal saying there were artifacts that monitored everything that happened during Pilgrims’ Keep.

Do they have artifacts that could monitor emotions too? He quickly shook his head. That’ll be absurd, Jerome racked his brain for an answer but found none. His mind flashed to Three, the kid he dreamt about during Pilgrims’ Keep, and all the other kids. They all had one thing in common as they grew older, rage which seemed to never go away. He began climbing the stairs that led to Kilian’s floor without even thinking to do so. His steps, fluid and graceful like he was gliding on air.

Do I have the same issues as those kids? But I was able to keep my rage in check…well, partly because of the mind-calming stone. Majorly, that is. If we’re having the same symptoms, did they dream the same dreams?

“...Jerome?”

When he came out of his musings, he was standing in front of Rihal. “...Yes. I have a request,” he said, quickly regaining his composure. Rihal said nothing, implying that he should go ahead and make his request.

“I need storage bags to carry my gifts for the children of the Orphanage to the slums,” he continued.

“How many?” Kilian asked from inside his study. Jerome could sense that whatever the both of them were discussing or arguing about — which definitely involved him — was very important and could change things for him. He could almost taste the tension in the air.

“As...many as I can get,” he answered.

“Very well,” Kilian said and quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper. “Take this note to the south end of this floor. You’d meet a guard there who would help meet your request.” He passed the note to Jerome.

“Why is the Palace so active today?” Jerome asked.

“The Sovereign is coming home,” Rihal said.

Jerome looked from one man to the other. Neither of them revealed anything with their expressions. But he also felt like they were hiding something from him. Perhaps something he’s not meant to know about. But it just made him want to know more.

Why were they talking about him? What did they know about him that he didn’t know? An ‘episode’? What the hell did that mean?

“Huh! Never knew he wasn’t in Farryn,” he muttered as he left.

~~~

“He may act mature but he’s still just a kid. I say we wait until the Patriarch gets home before making a decision.”

Kilian sighed. If it were left to him, he’d make sure Jerome got as much normalcy in life as possible. But some of these Elders were holding onto past grudges, none of which have anything to do with Jerome. The Elders had discussed Jerome’s removal from the Royal Estate and even though Kilian had tried his best to defend Jerome during the meeting, there wasn’t much he could do to change their decision.

“According to my research, Jerome isn’t supposed to start showing any negative signs until he becomes a Spirit Realm artist. Pilgrims’ Keep has brought out a side of him that shouldn’t have awakened, in a manner of speaking,” Kilian said with a sigh. “In the absence of the Patriarch, the First Elder makes all the decisions. It’ll make no difference how much we try to delay or argue, they’ve taken the decision they think is best for the Royal family—”

“Well, it’s a stupid decision,” Rihal countered. His voice, tight with tension. He had been watching over Jerome for thirteen summers and he felt responsible for him.

Rihal couldn’t quite decide if he saw the child as his own or not, even though he knew Jerome wasn’t. All that mattered was that he was Kaia’s son — at least that’s what he told himself. He couldn’t let Jerome be treated like he had no life or choice of his own. He had let down his mother, and now he was letting down her son too.

Kilian watched Rihal fume quietly in anger and sighed. He couldn’t blame the man for being angry. Jerome’s mother was the love of his life. Any sane person would feel responsible for the offspring of their dead lover. He wished he could do more but his hands were tied. He couldn’t go against the Elders’ ruling.

“We should prepare a place for him,” Kilian said, trying to compensate for not being able to sway the Elders. “Preferably somewhere close to the orphanage. What do you think?”

Rihal nodded silently, still not liking the decision.

“You should talk to him though. If he has any complaints, just let me know,” Kilian said.

“He won’t.” Rihal disappeared on the spot.

~~~

Rihal had been watching over Jerome since he was born, and he had taken a liking to the brat ever since. It didn’t matter to him that Jerome was the fated Dark One, he was still a child nonetheless, and a good one at that. He had his bad moments and he was far from perfect, but that just made him want to protect the little devil even more.

And he had hopes for Jerome that maybe…just maybe he would be different than all those who came before him.

At this period of Jerome’s life, they had to help him as much as possible to achieve clarity of mind, but this was probably his own bias. He didn’t go through what those Elders who lost family members to the previous Dark One went through.

Rihal sighed and was about to knock on Jerome’s door when his communications rune glowed on the back of his palm. He quickly activated it only to hear Kilian telling him to abort. He disappeared on the spot, reappeared outside Kilian’s study, and walked in.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice filled with urgency and hope. There was no reason for the Elders to change their minds except the Sovereign changed it for them.

“It sure is nice to have the ability to jump chunks of space, isn’t it?” Kilian grinned sheepishly at him.

“Get to the point,” Rihal said impatiently.

“The Sovereign sent a message,” Kilian said.

“And?” Rihal tried to hurry him.

“The Sovereign said he can stay here, as long as we find out how he was able to reign in the beast?”

A catch. Of course, there’ll be a catch. This had never happened before. No fated Dark One had demonstrated the kind of skill and mental fortitude Jerome had. But wait…

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Reign in the beast, what do you mean?” Rihal asked, clearly confused. He couldn’t be blamed for his ignorance as not many among the Royals knew the details of what it meant to be the Dark One. Most of the younger generation didn’t even know there was a Dark One.

“I don’t know much about it either,” Kilian said. “Apparently, none of the others before him were able to rein in their rage — the rage being the beast, or so the Elders say.”

“The rage is a… beast? What the hell does that mean?” Rihal muttered, frustrated. But soon, it dawned on him what he just heard. “You mean to say his predecessors were never able to quell their rage, but he did?”

Kilian hummed his answer and smiled. Rihal laughed. “The kid never stops to amaze,” he brightened.

“Kid?” Kilian asked with a raised eyebrow. He understood that Rihal was talking about Jerome but why use the term ‘kid’? A baby goat. Did he think less of Jerome?

“Don’t mind me.” Rihal chuckled. “Jerome has a way of getting on one’s tongue with his strange use of words sometimes.”

Kilian waved it off. “So what do you think about how he did it,” Kilian asked as he popped a fruit into his mouth.

“No idea, but now I’m curious to find out,” Rihal said as he reached his hand into the fruit basket on the table. He had thought Jerome was weird but now he was downright mysterious. “He only revealed Adama’s gauntlets and the Sunfire stone to me.”

“There’s no rush. The Sovereign never specified haste.”

“Hmm. Let’s give him this period to go enjoy familial company. I’ll find out when he gets back.”

~~~

Weird, Jerome thought. He had sensed someone at his door a few moments ago and went to check, hoping it was Rihal, but they were gone like they were never there.

Jerome had finished his preparations. All he needed now was to head to the slums. The maid, Seventeen, was very efficient as well. She was able to gather everything on his list in very little time and very neatly arranged them to fit inside the storage bags he got from Rihal. All that was left to do now was wait for tomorrow but in the meantime, he practiced wielding Suzie.

The next morning came quickly. The maid, Seventeen came to help him with any last-minute preparation before he left and they got talking about her.

“I know very little about my home kingdom. I was only five years old when we arrived in Vorthe, because of the war,” Seventeen said.

“Pathuma, you say.”

“Yes, disciple Jerome,” she answered. “From what little I know of it, it was a war-torn kingdom at the north-western edges of Vorthe. It snowed almost all year round and food hardly grew there. Sailors crossing the sea to find new lands usually land on our shores. And they never came to make requests.”

“They came to seize land and resources,” Jerome finished for her. “It must have been a great ordeal.” His gaze shifted once more to her with a new kind of respect.

But he couldn’t quite understand why a land that was cold all year round would attract settlers of any kind — even if they were there to take it for themselves.

“I wasn’t born there.” She shrugged. “I was born on the way to Vorthe. My parents live and work in the Royal Estate too so I see them whenever I’m off duty.”

“On the way to Vorthe? That must have been tough on them. I can’t imagine.”

Seventeen looked at him with curiosity. As if she never expected him to show any concern. Jerome smiled at her. “I admired your parent’s strength.”

“Thank you, disciple Jerome,” she said with a slight bow.

“It takes a strong mind to not only survive a war but also leave home to unknown lands. What if one wasn’t welcome there? Your parents conquered great odds, seventeen.”

She gave him the same look again but her eyes lit up a moment later and she smiled. “Thank you, disciple Jerome,” she said. Her words of thanks this time around were different. They came from her heart. Jerome could tell he had given her a good impression of himself.

Her story reminded him of himself during his past life. Weak and suffering. The doctors had said he was going to live a short life, yet he lived to be sixty. It was a grueling sixty years, nonetheless. And he had to depend on his parents and relatives throughout his life — even for the little things, the embarrassing things.

Jerome clenched his jaw pushing the thought away. He had made up his mind years ago never to be in that situation again.

“Pathuma must have had immense resources that were worth killing for if wars were fought over it constantly.”

Seventeen shrugged. “All I know is someone very powerful perished at the border between Vorthe and Pathuma.”

“Ah! Makes sense.” Jerome nodded in understanding as he remembered Rihal’s words about dead sacred artists and the treasure trove their corpses could become.

“Ahem,” Rihal interrupted his musings from outside the room.

Jerome got up slowly as he said, “Well, have a great day seventeen, and make sure you don’t get too comfortable with your level of advancement.”

“Yes, disciple Jerome,” seventeen said, as she gave a slight bow.

~~~

“Some people will never advance beyond Sprout, you know?” Rihal said as they walked out of the Palace.

“Hmm, but one should still feel motivated to do so, right?”

Rihal shrugged. “Some are just content with where they are.”

“Or they lack the resources to push forward,” Jerome rebutted.

“She has all the resources she needs, Jerome. Are we gonna start an argument early this morning?”

“You started it,” Jerome said with a chuckle.

Rihal looked his way saying, “Well, you’re excited.”

Jerome was grinning from ear to ear and he couldn’t help it. It felt like years since he’d been to the slums. Now, he couldn’t wait to take off in the direction of the slums.

“You know you’re very famous, right?… and little,” Rihal said.

“I’m not…little,” he scowled. Being in the body of a child was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need to be reminded of it!

Rihal chuckled. “Either way others would try to take advantage of you. Keep your head down and be the smartest person in the room…or in the streets. Probably should have compelled you to wear your uniform.” He muttered that last part to himself.

“Yes, yes, father walrus, baby walrus would stick his nose in the snow.”

“Father walrus? I see myself more like an eagle,” Rihal complained, expecting a retort from his dearest disciple but got nothing. “What are you doing?”

Jerome didn’t respond. He just stood there as though in thought.

“It seems I’m taking too much of your time, aren’t I?” Rihal said.

“No, no, no, just want to test something out,” Jerome replied. He’d been practicing all night and wanted to see the fruits of his labor.

“What?”

Jerome didn’t answer. He just stood there nodding and smiling as he observed the sky. Moments later, something silvery started bleeding out of his robes at his back. It covered most of his back and soon started taking shape.

“Is that…what I think it is?”

“Yes!” Jerome said excitedly. Wings sprouted out of his back. Wings like a bat’s, but a lot broader and shinier.

“How are you doing that?!” Rihal exclaimed in shock. Jerome could tell by the look on Rihal’s face that he had accidentally blurted that out. He laughed out loud in exhilaration.

He spread his new wings and admired them. Each wing spanned six feet, as long as the height of a full-grown man. He began flapping his new wings clumsily, generating a strong wind in the process.

“Don’t overexert yourself, Adama’s gauntlets will take a lot out of you if you task it too hard,” Rihal said, shielding his eyes from the wind.

“Adama’s gauntlets?”

“Adama was the name of its previous owner, but he disappeared during Pilgrims’ Keep two decades ago, so everyone calls the flowing steel gauntlets, Adama’s gauntlets.”

“Really? Well, it’s Suzie now!”

“What sort of a name is that?” Rihal asked, befuddled. It sounded feminine, like something a girl would name a doll.

“Hey, be careful out there!” Rihal called out to him. “The reason I allowed you the leeway to wear plain leather is because of your dispute with Hedon. Don’t make me regret it!”

Jerome didn’t answer. He just kept flapping his new wings hard as he rose off the ground. “Hahahaha!” He laughed out loud, “This is so amazing!”

His altitude increased a few feet at a time until he began riding the wind. It was difficult at first but as time went on he got the hang of it, stabilizing the skeletal frame of his bat wings. Jerome flew in circles around the Palace as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

He’d never felt anything as thrilling or as exhilarating as flying. Nothing could compare to the feeling of the wind breezing past him, the feeling that he was on top of the world and everything and everyone else was beneath him. He felt free and powerful.