The night I decided to seek out answers to my questions went by without anything eventful happening thereafter. After the "call" I made, for that was a call even though the device wasn't exactly a phone but something operating like one, I went to bed and slept, putting Aiden's body to the rest it much needed. The morning promptly followed.
As usual, Aiden's routine began with the soft chime of the morning bell echoing through the corridors of the orphanage's boy dormitory. It was a signal for everyone, and by everyone, I meant Aiden, to rise and start their day. A caretaker promptly entered the room, and as she did, Aiden, still groggy from sleep, stirred in his bed, his eyes fluttering open to greet the new day.
With a yawn and a stretch, he threw off his blankets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His morning ritual commenced with a quick wash at the basin near his bed, splashing cool water on his face to shake off the last remnants of sleep, followed by a complete bath with the assistance of a new caretaker. Well, she wasn't exactly new; Aiden was once taken care of by her a couple of days after he arrived, but since the caretakers take daily shifts in most, if not all, existing activities in the orphanage, including the two caretakers in charge of the crèche, she hasn't been seen since. At first, I was confused by this strange shift system, but as I thought about it, I began theorizing that it had to do with how little there was to do in this orphanage with only just two children. If they really wanted to keep up this façade of a child-loving orphanage and planned on using the orphanage facility to its fullest capacity, this shifting system could be a great way to familiarize the caretakers with what's waiting for them. Upon having come up with that theory, I decided not to think much of it, as I could easily shadow a conspiracy if I were to think about it harder, so I instead decided to do like Aiden: to accept it as it were.
After the bath and being thoroughly dried up, Aiden changed into his daily attire, the orphanage's uniform, a white autumn-gray striped sailor uniform, and made his way to the refectory where the girl Celestina, the only other resident of the orphanage, who from her distance eyed him with her signature frown before dispelling it as Aiden greeted her when seating at her table to wait for breakfast. As he did, a conversation ensued between him and the little girl, who no longer seemed so down about her missing cat. Of course, I could tell she hadn't yet let go, as she literally opened the discussion with a mention of Leodoro not being found yet. Listening to her talk about her cat and knowing too well that the cat would obviously never be found, I felt I was beginning to feel sorry for her. But then again, remembering the whole mess she made about it, and the embarrassing situation she put Aiden in by thinking that sweet little child had anything to do with her cat's disappearance, extinguished that freshly ignited kindling in my heart.
That being out of the way, it wasn't like I hated that child or anything else in particular against her. In fact, I believed that her existence was quite useful. As weird as it sounds for someone like me, who harbors thousands of reservations over what this place's true purpose is or are, I have to admit, especially after Aiden spent soon to be two weeks here, that this place provided Aiden with a little stretch of normalcy compared to what I provided to him in that place. The fact that he quickly adjusted himself to the orphanage and how the girl clearly saw Aiden's tales of life in the cabin along with my summons as interesting fairy tales to listen to were good proof of how atypical Aiden's life has been thus far.
I could try lying to myself, tell myself that it was not, but even back then, even though I was content with it, I could already tell our life wasn't exactly ideal for a child. Back then I was hiding, which I suppose in retrospect looked like a very stupid thing to do; if the one I was hiding from really wanted to find us, they would have, and they did. But back then, as I was hiding, I wound up exiling him, making it so that the only human interaction he'd ever had aside from mine was his interaction with the girl of the establishment who often helped me when facing things I'd never received education for when it comes to children. As a babe, I supposed it would be fine to have him live exiled from the world, but he grew up. For a time, I believed I found the perfect solution to my problem using my innate [spawn], but I quickly realized that it was not going to cut it in the long term. I gave it ten years, no, eight, for it to become obsolete, but before we could get to that, the Dungeon Master found me, ironically putting an end to our exile and granting Aiden the opportunity to experience a more or less normal interaction with another human being, his own age no less. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that Celestina was perfect, she was not. Compared to the freaks produced by Theta, such as the likes of Dungeon Master 20, it was as though she were, and I was thankful for that. Well I was not exactly thankful but what I felt close to thankfulness enough that I considered sending out to meow in the middle of the night to tell that he isn’t exactly dead or gone forever, but upon careful consideration I ended shelving that idea that was obviously a bad one.
***
As the day progressed, Aiden's routine followed its usual course, almost like clockwork. The morning swept by swiftly, with Aiden engaging in his daily activities within the orphanage's structured environment. The hours ticked by, and soon it was noon, marked by the call for lunch echoing through the corridors. Aiden, along with Celestina, rushed into the refectory, where they shared their midday meal.
Afternoon followed, filled with mostly playful lessons, light and early literary chores. The sun began its descent, casting warm hues across the orphanage grounds as evening approached. Back at the refectory, Dinner came and went.
Following dinner, Aiden and Celestina found themselves once again back in the crèche, a space where they could unwind and engage in activities before bedtime. They played games, were read stories by the caretakers.
As the evening wore on, the caretakers, upon having them bid one another goodnight, guided Aiden and Celestina to their respective dormitory. As the caretaker in charge of Aiden led him there, I scooped in and took over control, putting Aiden straight to sleep. Escorted by the escort I felt like I didn’t need but couldn’t simply shake off, I went through what should’ve been Aiden's post light-out ritual, before it was time for lights out, tucking into my bed like a good boy. Pretending to sleep, I waited, waited for the caretaker to believe I was indeed asleep and then leave. As per usual it took about 15 minutes for that to happen. Since the caretaker in question was standing in the hallway in wait, I doubted that she did so because she bought into my act. After all, she and all other caretakers she takes shifts with do that every night. They were standing in the hallway; how could they know I was here really asleep? They were peons—they didn’t have access to skills that would allow them to peer through walls, so I was more prompt to believe that this was something done out of respect for an established protocol than anything else.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“I guess a Maiden Ascetic remains a maiden ascetic even when draped in new clothes,” I murmured, stirring out of bed upon noticing the caretaker had left.
Recently, I've been contemplating the idea of allowing Aiden to learn to sleep on his own without my intervention. I've decided to stop putting him to sleep myself, as I believe he needs to become accustomed to the idea and develop the ability to sleep independently. This realization occurred a few days ago, and I've resolved to implement this change in our routine. While I anticipate that it might be a bit challenging initially, I am confident that he will adapt, just as he has with other aspects of life in the orphanage. I plan to start acting on this decision soon. Maybe tomorrow, but not today, yet, because there was something today I was expecting.
Upon leaving my bunk bed, I headed straight for the drawer where the two spherical devices were. I retrieved one of them—the same one I used the night before. Activating the device with a simple press of a button, it produced a golden ethereal halo that spread outward, before vanishing into absolutely nothing, leaving the device anticlimactically unresponsive. But not for long, for soon a feedback was given.
“I am close by,” someone said, his voice emanating from the device.
Already? I jolted internally, finally registering what he meant by ‘I’m close by.’ When I made that call, I didn’t expect to hear him say that. Truthfully, I also requested that he come over, but I expected it would take some time before my request would be considered. So, when I heard it, I was taken by surprise.
“Since you’re contacting me, I take it that you’re alone.”
“Yes, I am,” I replied, understanding what was about to happen.
“Alright,” he simply said, severing the connection between my device and his. About half a minute later after that was spoken, a rift opened in the corridor formed by the two parallel bunk beds in my room. Not long after, the rift simply disappeared as if it was never there, leaving only behind a person standing in the middle of the room.
He was young, very young, so young in fact that he would be considered young by the standards of most humans of this world, who consider 15 to be the step into adulthood. With long black hair that he simply allowed to skillfully hang loose, he had a very youthful face that made him look no older than 13, and yet from his height one could scarcely assume him to be younger than that. He was casually dressed in clothes that almost immediately reminded me of our old world. He wore a white shirt, with the sleeves casually rolled up, complemented by sleek black pants and polished shoes. There was a certain effortless elegance in his appearance, a blend of professionalism and casual charm that stirred a faint memory within me. The crisp lines of his ensemble, the way the fabric hugged his frame just right, spoke volumes about his attention to detail. Each element seemed meticulously chosen, from the impeccable fit of the shirt to the refined simplicity of his footwear. It was a style that echoed a part of me, a time when I took pride in dressing with similar precision and flair.
“Good evening… Dungeon Master 18,” he very casually greeted.
“Good evening Dungeon Master 02,” I replied.
Standing there in the middle of the room, he looked around, sizing up the place. After a brief second of silence, he praised, "Nice place," with a tone that made it hard to guess if he was genuine or not.
"I thank you," I replied before continuing, "I would've loved to offer you a chair, but as you can see, my room doesn't have one."
"That's fine," he replied calmly. "Had I known you would come today, I would have had a chair brought here." I added.
Upon hearing my comment and understanding what I was alluding to, he walked up to take a seat on one of the two parallel bunk beds. "You sounded like you were in a hurry, so the moment I was given permission, I made sure to take care of your business as quickly as possible."
How proactive of you, as expected of Dungeon Master 02. But this second part of what you just— I internally paused, considering the implications. "Given permission," I supposed whether or not I contacted Dungeon Master 02 or Dungeon Master 07, as I was given the choice back when they provided both their communication devices, it always had to go through Dungeon Master 07's approval.
Sigh, I suppose I was the one being stupid to believe otherwise.
Not bothering to deny his statement, I nodded.
After sizing me up and down as if seeking suspicion, he said, "This is what you've asked for," and retrieved something from his thumb, presenting it to me. It was a ring with mainly two colors, black and red. With no inlaid gems or fancy ornaments, it looked like a very plain ring, but it was obviously not. Recognizing the ring as my Spatial ring, a magical artifact that allowed me access to a large spatial storage, I reached out for it as Dungeon Master 02 lowered it to me.
As I slid the ring down my finger, with how small my hands were, the only appropriately sized finger for me to put the ring on was my thumb. While sliding the ring down, a skeptical thought burgeoned in my mind, but as I equipped it and sent out the mental thought to activate the ring-like device and received positive feedback, that skeptical thought immediately withered away.
"Thank you for having taken your time to find it. Was it still where I left it?" I asked Dungeon Master 02, whom I had informed of the ring's location.
He shook his head, "No."
"It was not?" I asked, half-rhetorically. Midway through the question, I more or less figured out where it could possibly have been for him to so quickly determine its location if it weren't where I said I last left it. "It was in Dungeon Master 08's hands."
Guh.
"Speaking of Dungeon Master 08, she was curious, considering your current predicament, whether or not this ring would be able to recognize you after the changes you went through. I guess she now has an answer to that question."
"I suppose yes..."
"Speaking of Dungeon Master 08 'again,' I have a message she wanted me to pass along."
"What is it?"
"She said that if you consider it you are free to return whenever you wish to, she's yearning for your return," Dungeon Master 02 said, staring at me intently. Once again, I felt as though I was being evaluated.
After everything that had happened, there seemed to be a misunderstanding perpetuated among Dungeon Master 02, Dungeon Master 07, and possibly even Dungeon Master 00 regarding a certai wrongly-assumed assumption—one about me being afraid of Dungeon Master 08. However, the reality was far from it. Despite how it indeed may look for an onlooker, I never harbored any irrational fear of her. The fact that I had remained by her side for over four decades was proof of that. While I had no desire to be near her, it wasn't out of fear but rather a matter of personal choice. In my eyes, she was akin to what Dungeon Master 20 was to all Dungeon Masters—a freak one would rather stay very far away from.
"Did Dungeon Master 07 approve of this message?"
"He did not. He didn't even hear about it, but I figured it was an innocent message—one that should be of no consequence to pass along, shouldn't it?" Dungeon Master 02 responded.
"I suppose yes. Since you passed it, I suppose I am to give my answer. Tell her that I appreciate her offer, but I have grown accustomed to the warmth and welcome of this orphanage. Returning to her side is not something I currently want to do," I affirmed.
"I see. I'll pass up your message. Now since I've handed you what you wanted me to retrieve for you, you can now ask what you want me to answer."
"Alright," I responded, acknowledging the opportunity to seek answers from Dungeon Master 02. When I contacted Dungeon Master, my primary goal was to find answers to questions that I couldn't resolve alone. If given the options, Dungeon Master 14 would have been my preferred choice considering both her personality and her connection to one one the orphanage main funding organization, but the selection was limited to Dungeon Master 02 or Dungeon Master 07.
After discovering the contents of the warehouse, I spent a whole day deliberating before deciding to directly seek answers from the Dungeon Masters. The choice between Dungeon Master 02 or Dungeon Master 07, however, wasn't difficult.
"I have some things I need to ask about this place. What's the deal with this orphanage?"