Sometime after I’d grown to be a year old, my body grew to the point where I could start to stagger and walk around more. My knowledge of the world I was in grew by leaps and bounds during this next period of my life. By this point, I’d learned already that my name was Mik’hail Flamedancer – well, that was the shortened version of it. In all actuality, I was the Young Lord Mik’hail of the House of Dancing Flames. My father was Ky’rus and my mother was the Lady Eveningstar.
I had a feeling that Eveningstar wasn’t my mother’s real name, but it was the only one which she gave to people for some odd reason. I don’t know why her name would be something to hold secret, but it was. Maybe when I get older, someone will explain it to me.
As I started walking around somewhat, I also noticed that some of the girls on the island had changed. Some of the oldest ones disappeared and new, pre-teen girls took their place. By wandering, luck let me discover one of these new young girls on her first day here and I learned a lot following along and holding her hand like a good little toddler as she was shown around.
Apparently, I was on The Island of Dancing Flames, which was a piece of land that my parents owned. Mother was a wizard of quite some talent and power, and the girls that were coming here were coming to a school to learn how the mastery of magic from her! It may be that magic isn’t as common in the outside world as it is here, simply for the fact that here is where people come to learn magics!
As for the lack of other children being here, that was simple to explain as well. Mother and Father were the only true “adults” on the island and therefore the only ones who could have children. The girls showed potential for magic around the age of ten, and mother accepted them as students around the age of twelve. Her teaching period was generally about five years with the girls, and then they graduated. The young ladies were students from the age of twelve to seventeen (a few stayed a year or two longer either because they were slow or wanted extended training), and there wasn’t any who stayed after they turned twenty.
I had wondered where all the old folks were and other children and such, and it’d never occurred to me that my home might be a school of some sort! Even if I were to look at my old school, things wouldn’t have been much different – a few older people who were the teachers, surrounded by their students, and if there were any young children, they were few and far between where one of the teachers just had to bring her child with her one day.
I lived in a school, and my parents were the only teachers there! It finally made my environment make a lot more sense to me.
As to why the youngsters went naked a lot, amazingly enough, that was one of my mother’s rules. The first year at the school, the girls were forbidden to wear any clothing whatsoever. Apparently, status carries a lot of weight outside the school, and clothing must be some form of status. To emphasize to her students that their status meant nothing here, mother stripped them completely for their first year as students. Older students who got in trouble could lose their clothing privileges as well at any time.
The girls learned not to place so much pride into their material things. Mother wanted them to learn to take pride in their talents as wizards, and their magic; not in who had the prettiest dress.
Another time the girls were required to be naked was when it was time for actual magical practice. Mother believed that mana flowed all around us and that by feeling the sun, the wind, and the ground around oneself, it could help wizards attune themselves to the flow of magic more efficiently. If anyone disliked the practice, they never mentioned it. Mother’s word was law. She was the teacher, this was her method of teaching, and if one objected, they could simply leave.
Another odd aspect of mother’s teaching style is that she refused to allow virgins actually to practice magic. They could sit in and listen to the magics, but they weren’t allowed to pull in or release any of the energy on their own. It was her belief that the blood breaking altered the flow of energy inside a woman’s body, and if they had practiced magic beforehand, they’d be weaker forever afterward.
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As the only male of suitable age and body, Father had the duty of being the one to break all the girl’s chastity – and that was a job that he didn’t seem to mind at all! In fact, even after their blood was broken, he’d still sometimes grab one at random and pull them up to his office, under a tree, or visit them in their chamber at night. My father was a pervert!
And honestly, I think I was a little bit jealous of him. The previous me had never actually been with a woman before my death, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t think of it and wish that I could be. My brain still had those desires even now, even if my body couldn’t do anything about them. How lucky could one guy be – dozens of young teenage girls all able to be used to satisfy his cravings at any time!
This new world definitely wasn’t fair! Power, land, authority – they meant everything here, this was mother and father’s land, and they held all the authority in this place.
And, as odd as it sounded, the girls didn’t seem to mind father’s lecherous ways. I think it was simply a fact of them outnumbering him to the point that they did. Father always spent every night with mother, so that was time where he couldn’t bother the girls at all. It was “mother’s time”, and I never knew him to spend it with anyone but her.
As for the rest of the time, the girls were fair game – except there was probably a total of sixty girls and only one man on the island. If father pulled two of them aside for his pleasure every day, that means that the girls only had to be with him an average of once a month.
It was hardly enough that any of the girls felt harassed by him, and often they would even choose a ‘sacrifice’ to go out and get his attention on certain days. For instance, merchants brought goods to our home only a few days each month. If the girls wanted to make certain that father didn’t unexpectedly grab one of them and keep them with him on a day when they might want to go shopping, they’d ask someone to volunteer to ‘keep him busy’ or else they’d end up dicing or gambling for the job some other way.
I don’t know if Father knew what was going on or not behind the scenes, or if he realized he was being ‘kept busy’, so the others could go without any chance of him bothering them. If he noticed, he never objected to the way things were.
As to the Island of Dancing Flames itself, it was a moderately large place that I still wasn’t large enough to wander and explore fully, but from what I’d been told, it was perfectly safe. I was allowed to basically roam and wander anywhere that my little feet could carry me, which at this point in my life still wasn’t too far. Always, there was one young girl or another who kept up with me and followed along to keep me company. If I ever got tired of walking and exploring, all I had to do is hold my arms out and they’d carry me back to the main school area. If I wanted to squeeze or suck on their breasts along the way, they’d usually just laugh and stroke my head and call me “my father’s child”. Apparently being a pervert may not be a bad thing in this world.
At least, it wasn’t for me on the island my parents owned.
I truly was growing up on a tropical, magical paradise, surrounded by nothing but beautiful women. (And one old perverted geezer, but since he was my father, I won’t complain about him. He has permission to stay.)
It wasn’t the same as the world where I’d grown up and lived in originally, but it wasn’t a bad place to be.