What exactly is a "child of light"? How did they come to be? These are the questions that have plagued men throughout the centuries that have shaped human history, for whom the phenomenon has sparked curiosity and intrigue. Yet no answer has ever been found to these two particular questions. Even now, when it is said that no child of light has been born in the last few decades, those questions remain unanswered.
Arte's Master was one of them, one of these children of light.
He, like other children of light, was taken from his mother, father, and sister the moment the church learned of his existence, to be raised by noble parents who would provide him with the upbringing he deserved as a noble wielding the almighty magic.
Like in most cases, it was only years later that Arte's master discovered that he was not descended from nobles, but rather from commoners he had never met.
Arte Master looked for them, and it didn’t take him long to find out who his parents were, Arte’s Master was the son of Eleonora Blanche, the owner of the establishment known as the La Rose Blanche.
For years, his master watched over his mother and the establishment she was in charge of, but a few months ago, Arte’s master, as if knowing what would happen to him, delegated this watchful duty to Arte, who, after merely six months in the Paladin Order over which his master presided, became his disciple and the one who, if he was still alive, was the most likely to take over his position as Holy Paladin if deemed worthy by the next Pontiff.
***
"Today, he is finally out of detention, Matronne." Arte informed.
"We know," answered not the one he called "matronne," but the woman standing beside her. "Mother and I waited for his return."
"You waited for his return," Arte mumbled, not really sure what to make of the words he just heard.
"Yes, we owe him much more than you can possibly imagine, Arte."
"Even after what he did to them?" Arte asked.
That day, when Mael, his cousin, was accused of being behind the deaths of several commoners, Arte was there. He was there; he witnessed the blood, corpses, and carnage.
He was too late, but he saw everything.
"Even after what he did." The woman repeated herself, not wavering in the slightest. "But, most importantly, what about the task?"
Arte body stiffened the "task," which was mentioned.
"I still haven’t found a clue as to where they all vanished. But I’ll keep looking. I will retrieve them." Arte confessed, looking down in shame. "
"The last one was our eighth girl to vanish without a trace in three months; there will be consequences if we don't fix this as soon as possible."
"I know," interrupted Arte.
It has been two months since Arte has been working on the case. It happened right around the time Arte had heard about his master's death, and a few days after Mael’s detention, two flowers, two girls working for the Rose Blanche, went missing without leaving behind any words or anything. It was initially assumed that it was a case of a girl who couldn't handle the pressure of her work, but as similar cases occurred in the following weeks, Arte and everyone on the establishment's board came to a realization that this was not a simple case of flowers fleeing, but rather a series of abductions aimed at the Rose Blanche flower.
"I’m working on it. I will track down the person responsible for all of these disappearances and bring them to justice." Arte swore.
"Yet still, for the time being, this unsolved affair and the exaggerated rumors spawning from it are getting the other Flowers anxious," answered the other woman, unsatisfied.
"Emma." An old voice called.
"Yes, mother, I am sorry."
Raising her hand weakly, the woman called Arte over to her.
Arte approached and leaned in to hear her voice. "For those who profess in this line of work we profess in, the hardest part can be the first time, but it can also be easily be imagining when the last time might be. Many regard our "flowers" as tainted objects of nobles' lust and desire, but human as they are, as they remain, hope is what keeps our flowers alive, which is why I ask you, "Whom has he chosen to handle this matter?"
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"Understood, Matronne, I promise you."
"I intend not to ask you for more than the effort you're already providing, for I know you're already doing your best. And for that, you have our eternal gratitude."
"I promise in my master's name that this matter will be resolved soon." Arte swore solemnly not to reassure Matronne or Emma, but to strengthen his resolve to put an end to this situation.
With a nod, "I’ll be counting on you, child," the woman said.
Standing up, Arte was ready to take his leave when he was called yet again by the woman.
"Arte," she called, sliding a box onto him, "for the girl, her reserve of medication was about to run out, so please give this to her; you were about to go to her, weren’t you?"
Nodding, Arte accepted the box, despite knowing from whom it came, and proceeded to his next destination.
On the same floor, after having walked a certain distance away from Arte’s Master’s mother’s room, at the end of a deep corridor was a large door, upon which Arte knocked a few times before entering.
"Arisa, it’s me, Arte. I’m getting in."
Having announced himself, Arte entered the room, which at first glance looked empty, but then, from behind him, he felt a pair of frail arms reaching out for him.
"I got you today," a girl's voice rejoiced from behind him.
"I suppose you did." Arte followed, not being bothered in the slightest by the girl's teasing.
"Good morning, Arte," the girl warmly greeted, before letting go of him.
"Good morning, Arisa,
With ashen hair, from appearance alone, one could imagine this girl to be roughly 13 years old, but Arte knew, having spent more than 3 months taking care of her, that the girl was no less than 14 and just about to turn 15.
"How are you feeling today?"
"Great, don’t I look?" She exclaimed, joyfully jumping around, only to almost trip. Arte caught her just in time.
"Yes, you look to be in great shape, which is why you must be careful not to hurt yourself," he said, escorting the girl to sit on her bed.
"Did you already take your medication?"
Despite her reluctance, the girl shook her head negatively, so Arte reached into the box that he had been given earlier and retrieved a single vial of blood from among the dozens of them neatly arranged inside that he then handed to the girl.
The girl, who was more than used to it, accepted the vial and gulped down its contents in one go.
"Good." Arte praised the girl, patting her head.
And, like a cat, the girl slowly rested her head on Arte's lap.
Until 3 months ago, Arte knew nothing of this girl; in fact, even two months and a half ago, the two of them were still pretty much strangers to each other. Arte only knew she was someone living within the Rose Blanche Headquarters at the time; it wasn't until he got to see how she was when she wasn't fed her medications and learned what she was and who she truly was that a bond formed between the two of them.
As previously stated, Children of Light are nobles born from commoner parents; it is not known what factors are taken into account for that phenomenon to occur, but it just occurs in a rather random manner, and that’s how it went for centuries, even millennia.
For that long, the number of children born across the continent once made up a percentage of the overall number of nobles born across the world, at least up until very recently. Among nobles, rumors had it that, in almost two decades, no child of light was ever born. Arte was very well placed to know that this was not just a rumor, for it was confirmed by his late father, who, along with his mother and his cousin Mael’s parents, dedicated a major part of their lives to researching about children of light and what could be the cause of the sudden halt in their birth. Arte was told and believed that, indeed, across the continent, no child of light had been born over the past 16 or 17 years. That's at least what he believed until he met this girl, Arisa.
She was about to turn 16, implying that she was born a year or more after the aforementioned halt in "child of light birth."
In other words, if no one else is accounted for, she was one of the latest known children of light, if she did qualify to be called a child of light.
"Arte?"
"Do you have any news about Big Brother?"
Arte wanted to lie but couldn't bring himself to do so in response to this question.
Arte's initial reaction to learning of her existence was ecstatic. Because he knew that with it, someone out there might be able to figure out the answer to what his parents and Mael had spent so much time searching for. Her mere existence itself was proof that their efforts were in vain, and that an answer could yet be found, yet as he grew to learn the girl's condition and history, he decided, just like the person who took care of her before him, to keep her existence a secret for the world and especially for the church.
" … he is back." Arte mumbled.
"Really, is Big Brother Mael really back?" With a childlike, cheerful demeanor, the girl rejoiced.
"Yes," Arte replied bitterly.
"Will he soon visit me?"
"I… I don’t know. Arisa, do you want to meet him?"
"Of course I want to see; we haven't seen each other in a long time." The girl started counting on her finger.
"Three Months."
"Yes, for three months. It has been three months since I last saw Big Brother. I really miss him."
"I see."
Mael's name was mentioned once more, because he, too, was related to that girl in the same way Arte was; in fact, Mael was closer to the girl before Arte's arrival than Arte ever was, because he was not only the one taking care of her in the same way Arte currently did, but he was also the one who personally made these medications for her.
Mael, just like Arte—or maybe it would be more accurate to say, Arte, just like Mael, upon knowing more about the girl, chose to keep her existence a secret from the church. A secret shared by him, Arte's late master, Emma, and, of course, the Matronne.
Mael was to this girl, as she said, a big brother, but Arte also knew, for he was there that bloody night, that Mael was the one who had the girl’s veritable brother blood on his hand.