Seth’s feet dangled from the bed, swinging one after the other.
He had been unstrapped not too long ago by the first priest who he’d learned was called Alnon. The simple process of being unstrapped had been tense for Seth. Alnon had watched him with wary eyes, odd yellow eyes watching him intimately as the straps came undone. After, the man stood back and stared without a single word.
It was only when Seth sat up that the man moved again. He waved a simple hand and the door Seth had come to find was made out of some material similar to iron but was not quite, opened slightly. It was black with a scattering of brown that could easily have been rust. He did not pay it much attention.
A man slipped through the small opening and stepped inside with a tray in hand. The tray was covered with meals of different kinds. There was a bowl of soup that was more meat than soup. There was a plate of rice too much for him to finish, garnished with more meat. A ceramic cup balanced at the edge of the tray was filled with what he could only assume was water. All these the man placed on the ground before him.
Quietly, his back kept to the door at all times, the man backed out of the room.
“Eat,” Alnon said. “Get your strength quickly.”
Seth watched the man speak and knew he was not pleased with what he was saying. Left to him, he would’ve most likely chosen a different path. But Seth couldn’t care less, he was free now, no more morning and evening pain. No more questions and threats… he hoped.
“A decision has been made,” Alnon continued when Seth didn’t move. “You are to become a seminarian, trained on the path of priesthood. However, you will only be joining your peers and learning what the seminary has to teach in three days. During that time, you will eat and get your weight up.”
Seth nodded quietly, eyes fixed on the meal on the ground. He did not move to take it. The saliva in his mouth accumulated, tongue pumping in anticipation, but he remained in place. The ground, a mess work of congealed black clay with a disheveled topography, served as a distraction from the meal. Seth’s eyes traced the patterns of rising grooves in its rough surface.
The distraction did not last.
Alnon continued to watch him with disinterest, offering his words with bland monotony. “You will learn respect when you begin your lessons, as those who will be your peer will be superior to you in age. They will be bigger and will quite frankly not tolerate any disrespect from someone so young. How old are you, even?” he wondered. “Twelve? Eleven? That kind of age gap can be intimidating. You’ll have to keep your—”
“Thirteen,” Seth mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I’m thirteen.” Seth never took his eyes off the food.
“Oh.” Alnon’s surprise seemed to silence him for a good minute before he spoke again. “Then I guess you’re going to have a hard time convincing your new brothers of this.”
We say fuck ‘em, one of Seth’s minds thought.
Yea, another mind agreed. We don’t need them; we only have one brother.
Three, another corrected.
That’s what we said.
No. We said one.
That’s the same thing.
No, it’s not.
How?
Are we telling us we don’t know how to count?
Of course we know how to count.
Seth’s head hurt with the constant bickering. Behind all the pain, there was the throb of a growing headache and he grit his teeth against it. It worsened and he was forced to shut his eyes, pressing his lids closed in frustration and pain. All the while his minds continued to bicker over numbers, challenging their various fragments to count as high as they could. One challenged while the other refused. But it felt more like Seth was trying to convince himself to count as high as possible. The dissonance was gratingly loud in its contrasting silence, his mind unable to create much else.
“Shut up,” he mumbled in pain. “Please, just shut up.”
Alnon stepped forward. “I am a Baron, child. You should know that I can hear you. And such disrespect is not tolerated in the seminary.”
Seth placed both hands over his ears, pressing down to silence the quiet noise, his minds continuing in their turmoil.
Hey! Hey! Hey! One of his minds beckoned, trying to break the turmoil; to intercede in some way.
Seth would’ve appreciated the gesture if it wasn’t adding to the noise. He felt this mind tugging at his awareness, or at least trying to, but kept his eyes shut. He ignored it as best he could, praying… no, begging for silence.
His minds gave him none.
Before him Alnon was saying something he couldn’t hear. If he opened his eyes he would at least be able to read the man’s lips. But he couldn’t. If he did, then the pain would only worsen. His head began to ache and the ache became a throb, growing into a crescendo.
Hey! One of his minds continued. Look! Look!
Seth pressed his ears harder, knees coming up as he curled them up against himself, taking a consolation that did not exist from the action.
Why me? He thought, only for it to get lost in the argument.
He thought other things but remembered none of them. The voices in his head were so much that they drowned out his own. Sometimes he caught slivers of them, his own thoughts crawling in the madness, then struggling like a drowning man with his head pressed under by someone stronger.
In front of him Alnon had stopped. He didn’t know how he knew, he simply knew.
There was no silence in his head. What silence existed in the world around him was oblivious to the chaos that was his minds.
Pain continued in the fervent existence that was the constant bickering of the voices in his head as each one fought for supremacy.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
FOR THE LOVE OF THE OLD GODS, LOOK!!! One of the minds roared.
It startled everything to silence and Seth’s eyes shot open. The headache thrumming in the background disappeared abruptly.
Seth looked up slowly, compelled by the authority in the thought, and found before him, hovering in the space between him and the priest, something he did not understand. Something well and truly odd.
Something eerily familiar.
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Objective [Join the Seminary] Complete.
You have been cast into an institution designed towards the goal of training the younger generation towards greater existence. An institution where power is the only answer and less will lead to lesser. Gain their acknowledgement and rise through the ranks.
Reward: Become a Seminarian.
…
…
Criteria Met…
Main Quest [Road to Power] In Progress.
Sub Quest Unlocked: [Survive the Seminary].
You have been accepted into the infamous seminary, known to its world for its deadly priests, levels above those bearing of the same authority. Survive its rigorous trainings and come out with more power than when you came in.
Quest Type: Life Quest.
Reward: Unknown.
Consequence: Death.
----------------------------------------
Seth stared at the words in confusion.
They hovered before him spelled out in motes like the embers of a dying hearth, black where they should’ve been orange. The words lilted at the top, their visage like wisps in the air.
“Fuck,” he muttered just as a mind thought: Cool.
This is not the first, another mind informed him.
“It’s not?” he asked.
Nope.
Oh, look here, another mind joined. That’s a lot.
“What’s a lot?”
These words. There’s like a whole bunch of them… Wow!
“How long?” Seth asked, his voice rising above a whisper. “How long has this been going on?”
A while.
“How long is a while?”
Since we woke up.
………………………………….
Alnon stood in concealed annoyance. He schooled his expression just as he had done moments ago while unstrapping the boy, as he had done earlier when commanding the boy be served.
What was the Monsignor thinking asking them to train a spy? It didn’t matter who had helped the Seminary when, the child was a spy. Training him properly would bring no good to the seminary. It was not in its best interest.
But he was a Reverend of the Seminary, and hierarchy existed for a reason. That, and the fact that the only person who could truly oppose the Monsignor now was Jedidiah, and the priest was severely wounded, still recuperating after months from the injury he’d sustained in the fight against the soul beast. In this moment, the only one capable of opposing Faust was currently gathering his strength.
Alnon’s initial annoyance had been internal, facing the struggle between what he believed and what he had been commanded to do. Stringing out the why of it irked him so much. That he continued to fail and was not surprised only made it worse. But now the child added to it with his incessant twitches and unnecessary mumblings.
He was still explaining, recovering from the shock of learning the boy’s age was thirteen when the boy interrupted him with another of his mumblings.
“Shut up,” the child mumbled. “Please, just shut up.”
Alnon’s Baron senses heard him loud and clear. He might have as well been a loud gong.
So he stepped forward, ire growing but face held in a mask. “I am a Baron, child,” he warned. “You should know that I can hear you. And such disrespect is not tolerated in the seminary.”
He did not unveil his core but he knew the title alone struck enough fear in the lesser. To his shock the child ignored him blatantly, opting to cover his ears with both hands, head turned down. Then another bout of mumblings continued.
Alnon stood, confusion usurping his ire. When he listened to the boy’s words, nothing made sense. He mumbled a contingent of incoherence, most of which were not even words. And the ones that were, did not align well enough to form coherent sentences. Yet Alnon could feel the desperation in each one. He could feel the fear.
When the boy began trembling, Alnon stopped.
Has something been done to the child? He wondered. Did whoever sent him seek to discard him now? But why? And how? He turned around, staring after the man who’d just left. Had he been a spy all along; had he poisoned the child?
Impossible. He’d been standing here all along. He hadn’t sensed anything, and the boy hadn’t even touched the food, simply staring at it like some starved wild animal.
The boy’s legs had since stopped their childish swinging and now rested on the bed, knees curled up so that the boy’s face was buried in them, hands pressed tighter against his ears as if blocking out a loud noise.
His trembling worsened, and Alnon found himself in a hopeless situation. He didn’t want to scan the boy with his Baron senses in the fear that whatever was happening would worsen, or worse, infect him. He’d never heard of such a technique that could be used even in the absence of the soul mage but strange things had been happening this past few days, specifically around the child.
He felt hopeless.
Suddenly, like the abruptness of a flash grenade, the child fell silent. His trembling ceased and his mumblings halted.
Slowly, as if terrified, the child called Seth looked up and Alnon took a step back.
Grey eyes stared at Alnon but he knew the child did not see him. They seemed dead, staring without focus. Gently, Alnon raised his hand and moved it across from right to left. The boy’s gaze did not follow. They simply stared at him with the enthusiasm of the dead.
“Fuck,” the child muttered.
Alnon’s brows furrowed in a frown as the boy continued to stare.
A moment after, the boy cocked his head to the side mildly, eyes still staring. “It’s not?” he asked.
Alnon opened his mouth to ask what was not when the boy frowned and mumbled again: “What’s a lot?”
The child’s frown deepened further. “How long has this been going on?”
He wasn’t even mumbling now. If anything, he sounded annoyed. Alnon chose to remain silent and observe.
The boy’s head tilted to the side in annoyance again. “How long is a while?” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper. “You have got to be kidding me. Why was I not shown this?”
There was a brief pause before a continuance.
“I don’t think that’s a good enough excuse,” he went on. “No. You, shut up. I’ll get to you in a moment. And just how many of these are there?... This has to be a joke.”
It certainly has to be, Alnon agreed.
“I should’ve at least known,” the boy complained. “There’s no way it would’ve made no difference… Of course it was painful… I don’t think he really considered it torture, though… No, it would’ve at least made it more bearable… That’s not the point!”
The last words held a touch of annoyance.
Was the boy mad? Alnon wondered.
He raised his left hand, reaching for the space between them and paused. He turned his attention to the hand and stared in confusion, as if having never seen it before. Then his face morphed into a look of happiness, then concealed rage, then exasperation.
“Am I the only one surprised by this?” the boy asked, tired, moving the arm back and forth as if testing it.
Alnon opened his mouth to answer but the boy spoke again.
“Of course not… Is this going to be a thing now? Should I be worried?”
Another significant pause.
“For my own good?” Seth scoffed. “The irony of it is very daunting, wouldn’t you say?... You know what?” He shut his eyes, opened them, then blinked twice, as if making an important decision. “I don’t have the time for this. Just get rid of it… Because I can’t focus with it… Well I don’t care…”
Through it all, Alnon simply watched, mind trying to puzzle out what games the child was playing.
He knew when the boy’s attention was back on him. His young eyes grew focused, a certain presence returning to them. He met them as they came into full awareness and the child paused. Alnon saw terror in those eyes now, terror and a touch of shameful embarrassment.
The boy’s head bowed slightly, cowed. “Sorry,” he whispered almost to himself.
Was that all?
The child goes on a cacophony of incoherence and I get one word in explanation, Alnon frowned. One word that doesn’t even explain anything.
Alnon felt his anger grow from the depths of his core. He had been ignored the entire time. The child had either been playing games with him or was well and truly mad. He didn’t think the boy capable of either. So, rather than let his anger lead him to do something he shouldn’t, he turned and stormed out of the room.
His anger was only fueled by the noisy door as he closed it behind him. Its annoying groan vexed him just as much as the child and he would’ve torn it off if he had the strength to. Even as a Baron the seminary walls continued to remind him that he was not invincible. There was nothing in the seminary the priests could destroy. At least, nothing they did not create.
Alnon stormed through the underground pathway as he made his way out from below the keep with a single thought in mind.
The Monsignor needs to hear of this.