Edmund Florian was in his study, his lunch half eaten in front of him as he went through the documents of the day. Trade reports, tax reports, budget sheets, complaints, letters, and countless other papers sat on his desk, organized into neat piles by his aide. His territory was larger than the average Baron’s, thanks to the first Baron Florian who expanded it rapidly, and his descendants who have meticulously maintained it for generations. Not to mention, Edmund himself had expanded trade and alliances. But that did leave him with a mountain of work almost every day.

Baron Florian was a workaholic. Everyone knew that. He could single-mindedly focus on his work for hours on end without getting up, sometimes days, uncaring of anything but his children. There was gossip among the staff that the Baron was not always like this. He became so after his marriage to the Baroness. Such gossip was quickly hushed, lest they should be punished.

Today, however, the Baron seemed distracted. However, that was to be expected, with how Young Master Emilio had been unconscious for 10 days. He woke up for a short amount of time the previous day but fell asleep before the Baron went to see him. Healer Straut was called to check up on him and informed the Baron that the Young Master was perfectly fine, albeit a bit weak. He prescribed bed rest and no stress for a week. The Baron had forbidden any training or work to be assigned to the Young Master. Emilio would be in for a surprise when he went to the training field today.

“My lord?” Dave Lauber, his butler, called hesitantly, drawing the attention of the Baron who had been frowning at the paper in his hand for the past five minutes.

“Dave,” he looked up. “When did you come in?”

“A minute or so ago, my lord. I have been calling you.”

“Ah.” Edmund put down the paper. “What’s the matter?”

“Archmaster Loren is here.”

Edmund sighed. “Gods, I almost forgot that I invited him. Where is he?”

“I have guided him to the drawing room and instructed for refreshments to be brought.”

“Thank you, Dave.” This was why he liked Dave. He was fast, efficient, and knew exactly what needed to be done without being told. “Let’s go. It wouldn’t do to keep the Archmaster waiting.”

Edmund strode out of his study and toward the drawing room. When he reached there, he found the familiar man sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. He wore dark purple robes that came down to his knees, white trousers underneath, and knee-length boots to match his robe. His long, silver hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. He sat with a cup of tea in hand, violet eyes scrutinizing it carefully.

“Archmaster,” Edmund greeted with a shallow bow before sitting down opposite to the man, Dave standing behind him.

“These cups are so gaudy,’ the man said instead. “You should get rid of them, Florian.”

“Please don’t break them, Archmaster.” Edmund was only half joking.

He sniffed as he put the cup down on the low table in front of him. “What do you take me for? I have gotten rid of that habit ever since I became the Principal.”

Claude Loren, an Archmaster, a pioneering expert in the Healing Arts, and the current head of the Irantha Academy of Magical Education. A shallow yet very talented man with the arrogance to match.

The man looked up at the Baron. “So? What did you call me here for, brat? Your son woke up just fine. You could have just sent me a message and said that there was no need.”

Edmund sighed. The man looked to be in his early thirties, but in fact, he was closing in on his eighties. He had been a Senior Professor when Edmund was a student and had become Headmaster a year before he graduated around 20 years ago. He had a bad habit of treating all who passed under tutelage - directly or indirectly - as his bratty students beyond their academic life. Something that no amount of pleading could change. So, Edmund ignored that and got to the point.

“Yes, he did wake up. Just yesterday. He’d been unconscious for ten days. But he fell asleep soon after. I felt it would be better if you examined him to see whether ….” he trailed off.

“Whether he’s about to die?” Loren raised an eyebrow. Edmund frowned but stayed quiet. The man hit the nail on the head.

Loren scoffed. “You called me here for this pesky matter that you could have any Imperial or Academy Healer for?”

“Imperials Healers won’t come down here for a Baron’s Laik child. And Academy Healers won’t be as good as you.”

“True,” Loren smirked smugly. “Chances are, they won’t check thoroughly either. What need is there to waste magic and energy for a Laik.”

Edmund clenched his fists. “I know this is probably a waste of time. But please, take a look at my son, Archmaster.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Don’t jump to a conclusion so fast,” he smiled. “I am sure it won’t be.”

He nodded. “Dave, find out where Emilio is and bring him here.”

“No need.” A white object blurred in through the window and settled on the Archmeaster’s shoulder. A familiar sight. That white phoenix was as majestic as the day Edmund had last seen her. There was a pause, and then Loren looked back at Edmund.

“Caladrius knows where he is. Let’s go to him.

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

Emilio found himself listless.

It had been a long time since he’d had a day where he was allowed to just… be. When was the last time he had relaxed a day without worrying about training, about work, about Jeremiah, about his future? When was the last time he had not dived head first into his given schedule? When was the last time he took more than few moments for himself?

He could not remember.

Today, however, he had nothing but time for himself. He had been kicked out of the training grounds by Captain Killian the moment he stepped inside. Apparently, his father had forbidden any training or work for Emilio for a week, because he needed rest. It was ridiculous, in his opinion. He was perfectly fine, if a bit weak. All the more reason to build his strength up. Not to mention, his work would pile up. But everything had been cleared off his schedule and Ronald politely but firmly told him that he was not allowed to do any work for the next week, Baron’s orders.

What was he to do?

Resigned and perhaps a bit delighted at the break, he made his way toward the woods.

“Back, back, human’s back.”

“Where were you?”

“Play, play!”

“Sweet! Sweet nectar!”

“Hey, hey, my food! Don’t run away!”

He was trying very hard to ignore the fact that even though these animals and birds were just clacking, cooing, and chirping at him as they normally did, he could understand what they were saying. At least… the ones closest to him. It was like walking into a crowded place full of people. He could filter out most of it, but they stayed there in the background. Annoying. A word he never thought he would use for the woods. Gods, if he lost even this… this small haven he had found…

He sighed and closed his eyes. Stop, please stop.

To his surprise, the voices were muted instantly. Not completely gone. But they didn’t buzz consistently in his mind anymore. He sighed in relief, opened his eyes, and kept walking. He could still hear them chirping and growling and purring and cooing. But they were all far away and whatever they meant, it did not reach him.

He reached that old Banyan tree in the middle of the woods.

As always, he sat and leaned back against it, hoping to relax. Immediately, he felt like a large soft blanket had been put over him. He saw himself, walking closer and closer before turning around and leaning up against his body. His body …. which felt a hundred times bigger than his own size and rooted into place. He couldn’t move and there were countless thick threads slithering all over him. He felt the hair on his neck stand and shuddered before moving away from the tree. He fell back on his ass, his elbows on the ground to keep himself from smashing into it.

“What the heck?” He whispered, still twitching from the experience. “What just happened?” He panted loudly, his pupils trembling as he looked up at the banyan tree as if he was looking at a monster instead of the old friend he had come to consider it to be.

And then he heard a hiss to his left.

“Are you okay?”

He looked down to see one of the snakes sitting by his hand.

Was the snake talking to him? Why could he understand it even though other sounds were still muted? Due to proximity?

Not the time to speculate. He shook his head and sat up straight. “I think so.”

“You can talk?!”

He let out a soft chuckle, sounding tired. “Yes. I can talk. I have always been talking to you guys.”

“Yeah, but gibberish!” The snake turned his head and hissed louder. “Hey, hey, guys! The human can talk!”

He absently noticed that their speech had much clearer wording and syntax than most. Snakes were supposed to be intelligent creatures. He guessed it was true. Soon enough, the snakes swarmed around him, excitedly chattering away, or hissing away, to be exact. He wanted to understand them… and he could.

“Talk to me, talk to me!” Was the most common.

“Give way, give way!”

“Hey, how come you never pet me?” One of them hissed at him.

Some of the crawled up his body. “Play, play with us!” Those, he supposed, were the children.

One huffed. “What’s so good about this human?” That was the one most angry and reluctant to take pets from him, though it did give in sometimes.

“Calm down, the lot of you.” He sighed. “You are going to give me a headache at this rate.”

“What’s a headache?” The one on his lap looked up at him.

“Stop hogging the space around his neck!” One of them hissed right beside his ear.

He groaned. “Quiet, please!” He demanded. A moment later, they did go quiet. He sighed.

“I’m still the same human who came here all these days.” He said. “It’s just that you guys can understand me now. If you want to talk, calm down first. And then talk slowly one by one.”

This was the longest he had spoken to a creature. He did not expect them to actually follow what he said. They slowly settled down, either on the ground or on various parts of his body.

“Now what do you-”

“Emilio!” The panicked voice of his father came from behind him, hurried footsteps accompanying it. “What are you doing?!”