“I don’t know what you mean! I… What does that even mean…? I’m sorry… Sorry to offend you… It’s just that no one ever speaks to me. I am a freak, you know? I am unclean. I was born this way… I was born to be a sinner!”

A boy would wake up from a slumber in his room. It was well decorated and spacious: a fireplace, a king-size bed, a working table, a walk-in closet, hardwood floors with expensive rugs, plush furniture, and, of course, soundproof walls for any ... screaming that takes place inside these chambers. It was all paid for by his Holy Mother.

Speaking of which, today was a big day, and he was still wrestling with his consciousness as he tries to wake up.

Did he would stroll to the left of him as he went to the bathroom.

He had long brown hair that was a bit of a mess, and he had bluish purple eyes with bags under them. He felt like garbage, but he had to suck it up and get ready for the day.

Moments later he would come downstairs in his room having breakfast with the Holy Mother Maria Boutonniere.

Sitting around the dining table, Maria was talking to the tired boy, “I’m glad you decided not to sleep in as long as you did. We want you at full dress today as a part of your coronation.” She explained.

“It has been decided over a month ago. Why the flowers?” He complained in a feminine voice.

“Because, Ralphonse, we want to bring all four of you here. And we want to do this on a Sunday.” She giggled with excitement. “I am proud of you, Ralphonse, you have done exceedingly well.”

“I was just following orders…” The boy named Ralphonse grumbled.

“Sometimes you have to toe the line and follow orders in order to get anywhere in life. Rebellion leads to chaos, Ralphonse.” Maria said while drinking her orange juice.

Ralphonse didn’t care, because it felt like he was wasting his time. If he was a part of this so-called super group, then why the pomp and circumstance? He just felt like it was too much.

He then grabbed a crescent roll that was ice cold.

“Hospitality!” He yelled.

“No, warm the roll yourself,” Maria instructed.

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Ralphonse glared at her, “mother, I am tired.”

“Use your aethereal sensitivity to warm up the bread,” Maria repeated.

Ralphonse loudly sighed as he didn’t want to play this little game, “HOSPITALITY!” he shouted.

“I told him not to respond to you when I came here. I paid them, remember?” She admitted with a mischievous smile.

Ralphonse shook his head as he stared at the crescent roll. He wrapped his palm around it but gently. He wanted to warm the bread without even trying to burn it. He tried channeling his aethereal sensitivity to the point where he could feel his fingertips tingling and his palms starting to get warm. The sensation was gradual, but he knew the dangers of channeling fire. He had to be patient, something that he has a true problem with. Seconds later, he can see the crescent roll steaming. Alas, the ends of the bread were darkening. He would drop the crescent roll so it wouldn’t cook anymore in the palm of his hands.

Ralphonse would wait a few seconds to touch the bread. Sadly the outside of the crust was hard and chewy, but the inside was surprisingly soft yet piping hot.

Maria tried not to laugh as she cleared her throat. She then took two crescent rolls-- putting one in each hands--and did the same thing but she successfully warmed and lightly toasted the piece of bread to perfection in three seconds. She would give want to Ralphonse and have one to herself.

“Almost,” She criticized.

“Almost…” He uttered.

“Your blood heritage is quite unique. So, it deserves unique training,” her stating the obvious.

“Is it always going to be this way with you?” He wondered.

“Learning the ways of the Aether is how we live and understand the world at the heavens created for us,” Maria said while eating her crescent roll.

Ralphonse just rolled his eyes and began to eat.

“So I heard you are studying the ‘dark arts’ or that’s what we used to call it!” Maria said with a wink.

“I don’t know you talking about,” Ralphonse denied.

“Oh?!” Maria pulled out a book and presented it to Ralphonse, “The Complete Book of Black Magic and Witchcraft?” She then presents another book, “Malleus Maleficarum? Are these yours?”

He glared at her, “you know damn well these are mine…”

“Found them next to your panty drawer,” Maria fibbed.

“You needed to borrow some? I heard the old man tears right through them,” he fired back.

“Oh, piss off, Ralphie!” She joked.

“I hate that name!” He uttered.

“But it suits you better? Ralphonse is such a masculine name,” she said. “Are you interested in witchcraft?”

“I just need answers…” Him being vague.

“In the libraries, there are scriptures about early practices of witchcraft--”

“You mean the homogenized versions that you have in those buildings?” He criticized.

“That is how we keep our congregation. If he told everything about the truth, then everyone would make up their own minds. We cannot have that. That was to happen, it would be 1912 all over again.” She lectures. “It is the same reason why we are needed in this world. Not to bring truth or happiness. But peace. Inner and outer peace.”

“And you made a business of it…” Ralphonse wondered.

Maria shrugged, “hey, this country spends 23.2 billion on security a year and they are still getting hacked by bored Ukrainian teenagers. Usually it’s because it is made by hands of man but not hands of God. Remember that.”

Ralphonse didn’t respond and just ate his breakfast. But there is a good reason why he was reading these books. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her, but there was one person he could’ve confided in. Hopefully he shows up after this whole entire ‘thing’ is over.