The Byron servants were fourfold. Two maids, one butler, and one gardener. The maids doubled as cooks, although the Byron missus would often oversee her own meals. She considered it important that her family eat food specially prepared by her.

  These servants had seen a lot of strange things around the Byron household, most of all with the children.

  The two Byron brothers were an anomaly. They regularly outwitted the adults meant to watch over them, acting as adults themselves to out-pace and out-manuever in both races and arguments. It was impossible to stop them, so the servants learned quickly not to try.

  When Paxton asked the butler to buy him armaments, the butler didn't even give him a sideways glance. Even when the child produced the exact amount of money required, the gentleman barely batted an eye.

  When Paxton asked for a sword and shield, the gardener felt nothing strange about it. He had watched the brothers going at it in the rear of the yard, and he was well-aware of their battle prowess. He went to town and ran into the butler at the blacksmith's. Both of them were picking up an order for weapons and gear, and they collectively sighed.

  However, since the incident with Paxton getting injured, the staff started to notice much stranger things. When they went to redress Paxton's bandages, there were no signs of damaged skin or stitches. When before, the two brothers spent some time apart, they were now locked in Paxton's room. When the servants delivered food, they would press their ears to the door and hear whispering inside.

  Even their parents, who were normally good-natured and outgoing suddenly turned cold and secretive. They prefered to have their meals in the library, and they were also caught whispering to hide something.

  It felt as if the whole house had gone mad.

  Despite the craziness, the dutiful staff of the Byron mansion kept everything spotless and perfect. Shrubs were trimmed, shelves were dusted, meals were cooked and served, and the floors always recieved a thorough mopping at noon. The sudden shadiness of their employers would do little to dissuade the long-held members of the Byron mansion staff quarters.

  It wasn't until one of the maids happened upon a very strange sight. She was delivering a breakfast of buiscuts and gravy to young lord Paxton, when she opened the door and saw him doing one-handed push-ups from a hand-stand. What followed was a decisive and furious chewing out involving the care of one's body while injured.

  The strange sight-however, was a near-shirtless Paxton whose body was as taught and muscular as a god. His veins looked like tunnels and his muscles looked like mountains. The maid eventually lost her words, resorting to senseless babble as she poked and prodded the nine-year old demigod.

  She rumored to her peers about how jacked the lord's son happened to be, and the gardener spoke up.

  "I believe it!" he hollered over a glass of water after a hot day. "I've seen those kids fighting like demons! They swing the iron rods so quickly, its like the iron turns to glass and all I can hear is the clanging of metal."

  "Quite," the butler stated, taking a sip himself. He seemed to hesitate, then pointedly added, "This never reaches the lord's ear, but; I once followed them when they went outside the walls to train."

  All ears perked up due to the nature of the brother's insistence that their training was 'between brothers'.

  "I watched two boys no taller than my waist cut down a full grown tree using only the flat of their hands." The butler imitated a chopping motion at a nearby glass, "Broke through all the way in a single swipe. Then they did some pruning of the branches near the top, and lifted up the entire tree."

  The other servants were astounded by what they had heard, but it was impossible not to believe. The more time they spent with the two boys, the more they beleived them to be supernatural.

  "Those kids are just unnatural," the older of the maids said with contempt. She then pursed her lips, "Seems like a demons got ahold of them, or something."

  "Ms. Carbunkle!" the butler snapped. "While they are most unusual, they are still our benefactors! IF I hear any slander like that coming from your mouth, I will have you thrown out on the street!"

  "It's quite alright," Paxton said easily, walking into the kitchen from a nearby hallway.

  The entire staff circle suddenly sucked in air as the object of their rumors passed by within clear earshot. He was dressed for leisure in a baggy shirt and pants tied off around the joints, and he seemed no more put off than if he had lost a coin toss.

  Paxton walked through the kitchen to a refrigeration unit, opening it up and stepping inside. He grabbed a few berries from a shelf, yanked a couple free, and closed the fridge while tossing one into his mouth.

  "If you must know," Paxton said aloud, "my brother and I have actually been keeping a very big secret we're hoping will be a suprise!"

  The staff refused to comment, but listened with intention.

  Paxton leaned closely, looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, and then whispered, "We're practicing magic!"

  "What?" the gardener asked, barely able to hear.

  "I said 'We're practicing magic!'," Paxton repeated, stressing the syllables.

  "Really?" all of them asked, intruiged by the sudden information.

  "Yeah! And we're almost getting good at it! I can heal trees, and Goddard can become REALLY strong! We've been going out into the forest because we don't want to get anyone else involved."

  "Why not get anyone involved?" the maid demanded, a bit offended at the tone.

  "Because I don't WANT anyone else with us," Paxton whined a bit, childishly throwing his hands down. "I want to make MY OWN magic and show dad that I'm a real man!"

  "Weeellllll," the gardener said with sheer skepticism, "maybe we can keep this a secret; buuuuuuut, only if you show us your magic!"

  The other servants looked crossly at the gardener, but then glanced Paxton's way to see the boy's reaction.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Okay!" he cheered, stepping around the kitchen towards the older of the two maids. She was a crusty woman with grey hair and a sourpuss attitude, but she deeply cared for the Byrons and could take charge when necessary.

  Paxton reached up towards the old maid, then waited until he was forced to say, "I need your head."

  The maid obliged, bowing down until the boy could put his hands gently on either side of her face. She could feel the hard calouses on his hands from gripping the iron bar; and the skin of his palm felt like sand paper. He didn't grip her head, merely laying his hands on her cheeks like a physician.

  Paxton then closed his eyes, and a slightly transparent white flame suddenly appeared around his hands. All were amazed, even as the white fire flickered around the maid's face and spread across her aged complexion.

  The three staff members watched as their constituent suddenly de-aged. Wrinkles tightened down and disappeared, liver spots became lighter until they blended with the skin, and her hair around Paxton's hands started to regain its youthful strength.

  "Oooh, that tingles," joked the old maid lightly, her eyes closed as she 'pretended' to be affected by magic.

  Minutes passed, then Paxton opened his hands and declared, "I'm done!"

  The old maid opened her eyes with a kind, motherly smile; but she was met by three flabbergasted faces. She couldn't quite understand their reactions, until she glanced across the kitchen where a large metal shoot showed her a slightly swirled reflection.

  The old maid put her hands to her face, feeling for the jowls and sagging skin that had once wagged under her chins. She felt for the rough patches from small injuries that didn't heal well in old age. She pulled at her skin, feeling it resist her tugs for the first time in years.

  "Hold on," the butler announced, rushing out into the hall. He returned minutes later with a mirror that normally hung near the entrance.

  He pointed it at the old maid, and she saw for the first time what Paxton had done to her. She could barely hold back the tears.

  Where once stood a harsh reminder of time, what replaced it was a poster child for aging gracefully. She looked like a grandmother, not a servant; and her rough, washed exterior was rejuvinated into a moisturized madame of poise.

  The old maid looked down at Paxton, who had a single bead of sweat on his forehead.

  "Bless you, child," she cried, falling to her knees and embracing Paxton like her own grandchild.

  "I still nEEd to work on pRACtice," Paxton wheezed between squeezes. "I want to tRY to do a WHOle body healING!"

  The old maid continued to embrace her benefactor until the other servants had to physically pry her off of him.

  "Well," said the gardener, smelling some opportunity, "perhaps you can do a bit more? I've got a bum knee, ya see-"

  "Horten!" scoffed the butler in dissapointment. "We are not to abuse the young master's gifts!"

  "It's quite alright," Paxton assured. "I need to practice on actual people, not ust logs."

  Without further ado, the gardener pulled up one of his pant legs to where his knees had a large scar where the kneecap should be. Paxton seemed to consider this for a moment, then he place his hands around the knee pit and cap. Once again, white flame flickered around, just enough to see it move like real fire. Then, it spread across the skin, changing and altering everything underneath.

  When Paxton was done healing, the gardener tentatively got onto his feet and tested the load bearing. He leaned until he was balanced on his bad leg, then he started to hop and skip on the same leg.

  "Hah! I've not felt this good in ages!"

  "I'm glad I was able to help," Paxton sincerely told him. "If you guys don't mind, I want to keep this a secret from my parents. They still don't know, and I want to suprise them."

  "My lips are sealed," the gardener promised.

  "I won't say a word," agreed the two maids.

  The butler hesitated, looking at Paxton before sighing, "I suppose a suprise would be nice."

  Paxton returned to his room where Goddard was waiting with a book in hand.

  As soon as the door was closed, Goddard got up and asked, "How did it go?"

  "Perfectly," Paxton declared with a soft smile. "If anyone ever presses the servants, they'll insist I have white magic. And any strange behavior will be written off as 'magic practice'."

  "Good," Goddard sighed with relief. "We'll get away with a lot more if we've got a good excuse on our side. Let's get back to the anti-demon invasion strategy."

  "Alright," Paxton agreed, "but before that-"

  The older brother opened his door and revealed the butler standing in the doorway. He seemed nervous, almost as if he didn't want to speak. As the boys watched, the soft spoken gentleman steeled himself.

  "I want to ask if you wouldn't particularly mind trying to solve a minor issue of mine?" the butler vaguely asked.

  "I'll always help," Paxton offered with a smile. "Just show me where it hurts."

  The butler stepped back, looked both ways down the hallway, then stepped into the room and hurridly closed the door behind him. It was odd behavior for the usually bespoke and graceful butler, but it all made sense when he undid the waistband of his trousers and lifted the back of his shirt and jacket.

  On the butler's back, near the exact center, was a knarled twist of flesh that looked like a horrendous injury.

  "I got it in my younger days as a knight," the butler stated with a bit of embarresment. "A brigand held me hostage trying to escape the city, only to stab me in the back once he was clear. Ever since then, there's been this tingling sensation across my entire body. It drives me mad sometimes, and medice doesn't do much besides dull the feeling."

  Paxton closed his eyes and focused, letting the transparent flames stretch across his butler's back.

  "What is he doing?" the butler quietly asked Goddard.

  "He told me one time that his magic let's him sense injuries with a visual image," Goddard answered on behalf of his brother.

  "The body is like a very long and complicated set of strings," Paxton explained with his focus still resolutely on his task. "I just feel for the strings, find where they've been knotted or tangled, and pull them free."

  The butler suddenly arced his back as pain shot through his entire body writhed.

  "What happened?!" Goddard shouted.

  "The injury must have hurt his spine," Paxton answered, moving around to try and grab the convulsing butler, "his body's nerve system is freaking out!"

  "Well FIX IT!" Goddard shouted, his own heart pounding as the old family butler who was supposed to live for thirteen more years lay dying on the floor.

  Paxon forced himself onto the butler, wrapping his arms around the thin man's waist and holding tight while pouring magic into his back. It was less refined, but a brute force attack would hopefully return the butler to a more normal state so that Paxton could work more refined magic.

  Luckily, the 'tangled knot' in the butler's back curled around under the skin, then flattened out into a normal patch. The butler slowed his spasming, his eye rolled back as Paxton continued to perform his best magical neuro surgery.

  After what felt like hours, but was only minutes; the old man inhaled suddenly, signaling Paxton to release him. Several deep, steady breaths were needed before the servant could get his bearings.

  He looked at his hands, wrists and arms; then he pressed his hands into his stomach and around his sides. Finally, his palm felt the flat surface where his knot used to be, and the butler began to cry.

  The two boys felt a bit awkward as their most gentle and hard-working staffer descended into wet sobbing and a runny nose. It was like watching a tough biker snuggling with a teddy bear; the mixture of wrongness and wanting to be okay with it that developed uncertainty.

  "Sank you," the butler finally managed to say through the tears. "You hab no idea what dis means to me! FOR FIFTEEN YEARS, I've put up with that annoying skin crawling sensation!"

  "I'm really glad that I could help," Paxton offered, putting an arm around the staff lead.

  The butler sniffled a few more times, fixed his clothing, then gathered his wits about him.

  "Well then," he said aloud, "it seems I've no more excuses to dilly-dally. I'll return to my duties immediately."

  The butler left with a wave, walking tall with more confidence than he had displayed in a long time. It was a proud moment for Paxton to see what good he could do by healing others.

  "Almost makes me want to throw away my black magic," Paxton said with a hearty smile.

  "You'd better watch what you say," Goddard warned, suddenly serious as the mood shifted. "When the demons come, your black magic is going to save everyone. Don't forget that."

  Paxton kept to himself the disgust he felt towards the necessity for black magic and assassination techniques. He fully understood their necessity and utility, but he had already been a legendary international assassin.

  Why couldn't somebody else do it?