A young man with short light-brown hair and pale pink eyes stared silently at the carpeted floor beneath his feet.
“I am very disappointed in you, child,” Spoke a female voice in front of the young man.
“I’m sorry, Mother…” the young man said in a hushed voice.
A sigh escaped the woman’s lips, “As my child, you must be perfect. You must be at the top of your class by such a margin that the other children would not even think of looking at your feet.”
“But mother, I have scored perfectly on every test, assignment, everything. I even excel at hand-to-hand combat, which most Alchemic Race cannot do.” The young man said, but he never dared to lift his head.
“That is only to be expected from my child,” The woman said in a scoff, “And lest you forget you have not been perfect, remember your first exam from every semester you have missed one question. Although disappointing, I would have understood if it had only been once, but every semester is unacceptable.”
The young man threw his head up, staring at the woman with indignation, “Mother, those tests were only to see if we retained the information from the semester prior. The questions that I missed were to see if I knew the information that would be covered in the coming semester. How am I to know what I have not learned?”
“Those are only excuses.” The woman stared at the child calmly and solemnly, “You should do better.”
“How am I to do better than I already am? I am top of my class and have set records on my scores.”
“That is only in this generation..”
Cutting off the woman, the young man screamed, “This generation! Mother, I have broken every record at this academy!”
“No, you have not.” The woman said calmly, waiting for the child to calm down before continuing, “You should look at the academy archives and look at my generation, and after you are finished with that, you should look at your father’s… your real father’s generation.”
“What does that have to do with anything! Those records have been broken, and now I have broken those! What is the point!”
“You will not understand until you look. That is all I will say about this.” The woman spoke quietly, staring at the child with her cold, piercing gaze, “Now, onto the other reason why I have come to see you. Who is the girl?”
The young man jumped at the question, “W-W-What g-girl…”
“There is no reason to react like that. I am not here to chastise you about your social life. In fact, I hope you will interact more with your peers. They are all of an acceptable standard and pedigree that it is fine to befriend them now.”
The young man looked at the woman with wide eyes before the woman continued, “It is only a joke, child, interact or do not. I could not care less. Just do what you want and make sure that your standing in the class does not drop, understood.”
The young man stood rooted, unsure how to react to the woman and her joke.
“Oh, and the next time I see you, bring that girl you like with you. I need to see if she is fit to be your future spouse.”
The young man jumped, his eyes growing large, “MOTHER!”
…
Many hours had passed since his mother had left, and the young man had finally returned to the room he had called home for the past fifteen years. Upon opening the door, he was met with a barren room. Aside from the essential furnishings of a desk and bed, there were only two pictures and a solitary piece of paper affixed to the wall adjacent to the desk.
At the top of the article on the paper, it read in bold letters, ‘Head Butler of the Erlminin Manor, Alim Brook, Found guilty of his charged crimes!’ The young man had read that paper daily for the last year.
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The young man rubbed the light green earring that adorned his ear. It had become a habit to do so at some point as he reread the article. He wasn’t sure at what point it had come to that or if it was something he had done before; he had no friends or people close to him to tell him. Even that girl his mother teased him about didn’t even know that he existed; he wanted to let her know, but he was more scared of what might happen.
The young man sat in the desk chair as he placed the article down next to his pile of books. He wasn’t sure if he enjoyed his time here or if it was just motions to keep his mother happy. The young man gave a dejected laugh when he thought of the woman from earlier. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her; it was a strange emotion, something he just couldn’t put his finger on.
He had lived most of his life as an orphan raised by the Divine Race that stayed in the orphanage. His life had moved so fast since that birthday that everything seemed to blur into a single, never-ending nightmare. Then, at some point, time passed, and he had been at the school for fifteen years.
The young man looked at the stack of books. Was it really a nightmare or a dream? He loved being a student and learning all the things that he never would have had the opportunity to learn as an orphan. But what about the price he had to pay to be like this? Did it matter at this point what was done was done, and no one could go back? He didn’t know; everything was just so confusing. Maybe it would have been better if everything was kept a secret from him then; maybe he could have enjoyed his life a little bit more.
Cherese left the academy as silently as she had arrived; the students around her seemed to not even realize she was walking by. She walked through the gated guard entrance with a sigh as the guards bowed to her; it was surreal. Cherese had never imagined that she would ever have anything to do with this place again, let alone have a child attend here if he could be called that.
Her memories of this place were never the best, but now that she looked back on all those memories. Maybe they were better than the memories she had made since she left.
Cherese climbed into her carriage with the driver's help, “Madam, will you be heading to your lab? Office? Or the manor?” the driver asked as he held the door.
“...None of those. I have a meeting here,” Cherese said, handing the driver a folded paper she was holding.
“Of course, Madam, we will arrive just before your meeting.”
Cherese sighed sadly as she watched the academy grow smaller, her memories of her time flooding her mind, “What a simpler time that was…”
Alim sat silently in his dark cell. He had no idea how much time had passed since he arrived or where here even was. He pulled a small necklace from under his shirt, staring at it with a small smile. This necklace was the memoriam of his wife and son that his Madam, Cherese, had crafted with a friend from the Smith Race just after he lost his family.
Alim remembered thinking this was a strange practice when he was young, but now he understood why so many of the Alchemic Race did this. It always gave him a bittersweet taste every time he looked at it, but he could not help but smile at the sight of it now.
“It won’t be long now…” He said, kissing the green jewels on the small medallion.
“So you are finally letting someone speak to you after all these years, Alim.” The sound of a female voice echoed in the barren prison.
Alim smiled after hearing the voice, “Madam… It has been quite some time, has it not?”
Cherese glared at the malnourished man on the other side of the grey metal bars, “Some time! Some TIME!” she yelled.
Alim stared with his usual calm smile as Cherese yelled and ranted about all the trouble since he left. It felt great to be needed and even better to be missed. It also made him wonder what his wife was thinking and if she missed him.
Alim started to laugh when he thought of a dead woman missing someone.
“What is so funny, Alim? You should be listening to me!” Cherese chastised.
“Sorry, Madam… but I just thought of something and…”
Cherese sighed as she sat in a chair that a guard had just brought, “You have caused such a mess, Alim; I have no way to clean this up. Or did you do all of this knowing that?”
“You gave me a task, and I must fulfill it, Madam,”
Cherese glared, “I never meant for this. So why did you choose such a path that not only dirties your name but mine and all of Elrminin?”
Alim rested his head against the cold wall with a reminiscent smile, “Do you know much about me, Madam? Of how I came to be here? Or how I meet your husband? How I came into his and, by proxy, your employment? And so many other things. Do you know?”
Cherese opened and closed her mouth. She had never thought about anything like that, not of Alim or anyone else in her employment. She realized at this moment that she never saw any of them as Seedlings only property.
Cherese stared at her once head butler's calm but sad eyes, “No… I never thought of asking and never really cared.”
Alim smiled, “As honest as always, Madam. Well, let this be my memoir then.” Alim sat up as he stared solemnly at Cherese, “So let me tell you the story of not Alim the butler but Alim of the Shadow Race.”