Before Rosomil took over the whole kingdom, the area of Eldebourg belonged to a lord appointed by the king, who had been loved by his people. Rosomil knew him personally, due to a woman being falsely accused of witchcraft. The lord had been one of only a handful of people who believed the woman to be innocent. Back then, this alone had made Rosomil grow to like him. Which was why it had hurt him to dispose of the man as he had decided to stand against him, like many well-meaning people he had known.

Well, dispose isn’t the right word. In the end, the lord was still, in a certain sense, reigning over Eldebourg. Rosomil’s demon had killed the man and resurrected him as one of the Knights serving Rosomil, not only as anchor for his demon but also as syphon of the life-force the demon needed to give Rosomil his power.

Still, they unsettled him. Even now that he sat with Duodecum, he wished he could be somewhere else.

The Knight as well as the two Dark Priests, who had welcomed him the night before, weren’t unpleasant table companions per se, but Rosomil felt alone. Although his demon, in its male form, called Astatine, sat right beside him as well Offilo on his other side, he couldn’t shake off this feeling. It also didn’t help that he was the only one eating. Offilo had declined a breakfast, and the others didn’t need to eat.

“You know, Offilo, starving is a nasty death to choose”, Astatine said and broke the tense silence. „At first you grow sleepy and weak. Then you feel your bones almost cut through your sore skin. In the end, you bloat up like a carcass left too long in the sun, and you will be too weak to do anything about it once the flies start to swam you and leave their eggs in your eyes and nostrils.“

“Cease, demon!”, hissed Rosomil and gave it a stern look. “Do not speak of such things while I eat!”

“You’ve seen worse than that”, it sneered. „Besides, you just heard me describe those things. Offilo felt them.“

With a skeptical expression, he looked over to the boy, who said stiff and silent, his eyes staring into the distance.

“I haven’t taken him in as a plaything for you”, he told the demon and frowned at it. “Go somewhere else for now, but once I call you, you’ll immediately appear at my side. This is a direct order.”

“Understood, master”, the demon replied, clearly displeased, and vanished in a whirlwind of feathers.

“Is the breakfast to my Lord’s taste?”, asked Duodecum suddenly as if he had just woken up and realised that Rosomil was still there.

“It is”, he answered and finished eating.

For a moment, he considered his options. On one hand, he wasn’t certain his demon had been entirely honest with him. It knew about Lodwin way before it pointed him towards the possibility of him being involved. Its explanation along the lines of it just making an educated guess seemed off, too. He couldn’t trust the demon, but he also didn’t want to provoke a fight with it.

On the other hand, Rosomil didn’t felt like fighting his former Brother in Arms either. For a moment, regret reared its head and caused his heart to tighten. Again, he could hear is demon telling him how a part of him still screamed in anguish at what he had done. A scream, constant and nasty. It grew.

“Sacrifices must always be made”, he murmured, almost as if in a trance.

“Does something vex you, my Lord?”, Duodecum asked mechanical. “I’ll replace the cook should his skill not satiate your appetites.”

“There is no need to replace the cook, Duodecum”, he replied and stood up. “I’m going to take a look around the castle with my protégé and wish not to be disturbed unless a grievous problem arises, which needs my utmost attention.”

“Understood, my Lord”, the Knight replied and stood up as well. “Should my Liege have any questions or further orders, I will be in the throne room.”

While Duodecum walked toward the door, Rosomil watched Offilo. The boy seemed even younger now due to his timid expression and tense posture.

For a moment, Rosomil caught himself regretting taking him in on nothing more than a momentary whim. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the use he could get out of the boy. After all, the crest on his heirloom knife belonged to the former king of the land. Rosomil couldn’t help but admire the almost conniving plan the remainder of the Order most likely had hatched behind taking the boy in. The only suspicion thing about Offilo was his apparent lack of knowledge about his own heritage. Surly, he could be keeping silent about it to fool him. Then again, the boy didn’t seem the type for it. Still, Rosomil knew to not think poorly of others. There were always hidden depths.

“Boy, what are you waiting for?”, he asked him sternly.

“I’m sorry!”, he hastily replied and moved with surprising speed towards Rosomil.

“Don’t apologies, become more perceptive”, he told him and headed out of the room.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Offilo walked a bit behind him, which annoyed Rosomil even more, until he had enough and stopped without warning him. Luckily, the boy reacted faster this time and managed not to run into him.

“You’ll cease walking behind me”, Rosomil told him, angry. “I want to speak with you, and I don’t intend to strain my neck doing so.”

“I-I understand”, Offilo replied timid.

“Then show me!”, he ordered, and moved ahead at a faster pace.

Offilo fell soon in step with him but, judging by the strained look on his face, he had trouble keeping the pace without going into a full blown run. Rosomil didn’t slow down, despite knowing that he used some enhancements his demon had bestowed upon him. He wanted to test the boy’s resilience and determination.

“When and why did the remains of the Order take you in?”, he asked while heading towards the courtyard, since there was an area dedicated for training the former castle guard.

“They saved me from a monster that attacked the village I lived in with my mother”, Offilo answered with a pained expression. “I think this was two or three years ago. At first, they didn’t want to take me in, but after I had shown them that I could fight with the knife you took, they were convinced that I was serious about joining them. I had no other place to go anyway.”

“I take that your mother died during the attack?”

“Y-yes.”

“And you lived just with your mother in the village? What was it called, by the way?”

“Haims, I think, and I don’t know any relatives beyond my mother.”

“She never told you anything about your father?”

“No.”

“And you never asked?”

“I asked her once but instead of telling me anything she gave me the knife and said that it’s all I needed in that matter.”

Rosomil fell silent for the last few yards until they arrived at the courtyard. The vast open space was dominated by a huge tree, which had once cast a cooling shadow over the cobbled area but lay now dead. Rosomil’s demon had taken its life-force, and now it looked like a chalk white monument dedicated to despair. It reminded him of the remains of the angel stature in the headquarters of his former Order. The way they reached towards the sky, different but all the same. It was the same sad plea for help, which never came.

Against his will, Rosomil felt guilt well up within him. Like a rope made from barbed iron, it warped itself around his heart. At the same time, he could hear the whispers of the Skin-Bound Tome, which was still fused with his mind. They grew louder.

“My… Lord?”

The concerned tone in the boy’s voice allowed him to snap the guilt and silence the voices, but the phantom pain of the wounds remained.

“Can you guess why I brought you here?”, he asked and looked at Offilo with a stern expression and his arms crossed behind his back.

“I’m sorry, my Lord”, he apologised with cold sweat on his brow. “But it eludes me why you’ve brought me here.”

“You ought to be smarter than this. Can’t you guess? Or do you play dumb? I can’t stand the latter, so be warned, boy.”

Offilo flinched and took a hasty look around.

“J-judging by the training dummies and the row of targets beside the huge tree, I guess this is the training ground of this castle. So, you… You want to train me?”

“Talk with more confidence when you answer my questions!”

“Yes! My Lord!”

Rosomil glared at him a moment longer than strictly necessary. Because of this, Offilo seemingly wanted to make himself smaller but fought against the urge with mixed success.

“And, yes, I want to continue your apprenticeship as you certainly lack any usefulnesses to me otherwise”, Rosomil explained. “But before we start, I need to gauge your abilities. As you told me, you know your way around with a knife. So, I’m going to give you your knife back for the duration of this exercise, but once we finish, you’ll give it back to me. Should you not comply or try to kill me, I will call my demon forth and let it have its way with you for as long as it wants and your body can withstand. Did I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, my Lord”, Offilo replied, barely able to keep himself from trembling.

Without another word, he threw the knife towards him. Offilo caught it in such a fumbling manner, it was a miracle he didn’t cut off a finger. Rosomil remained unimpressed and started to regret playing along with the whim of his demon. He could, after all, use the time he had already and was still going to waste on the boy to prepare for Lodwin’s arrival.

Meanwhile, Offilo, instead of getting ready, looked confused and held the knife in a manner which indicated an actual lack of ability.

“Is this the stance you managed to convince the Order with?”, Rosomil asked him, annoyed. “What a pathetic display!”

“I’m sorry, my Lord!”, the boy replied, pale as a sheet, and corrected his stance.

This alone was proved enough that the remainder of the Order had taken the boy solely in because of the crest edged into the knife. While Rosomil had expected as much, it was still a disappointment. Especially considering that the boy had been an apprentice for at least two years. During his time, an apprenticeship lasted ten years, and it was expected of the apprentices to already be above average fighters after two to three years if they weren’t sorted into a support or scholar role at that because of their lacking abilities.

“Good, but I expect you to do even better!”, he snarled.

“Yes, my Lord!”, Offilo replied stiff.

“Very well. Now I’m going to test your abilities”, explained Rosomil, calmer and conjured a Shade.

The dark figure clad in smoke appeared and drew its naked twin blades from within its shady mass. The last drop of blood seemed to vanished from Offilo. With a slow motion, the Shade lifted its skeletal head and stared at him. Rosomil had to give the boy some credit, as he didn’t immediately run away or freeze.

“You will spar against this Shade until I’ve seen enough”, Rosomil explained further. “And don’t think I’ll let it go easy on you. Should you disappoint me, I’ll let this creature kill you in the slowest most excruciating way possible, you’ll wish I let my demon use you as a plaything instead. Did I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes!”, he squeaked.

Rosomil ignored the lack of being properly addressed and gave the Shade the necessary orders in the language of the Tome without giving Offilo a proper warning.

The Shade reacted immediately and attacked the boy. Panicked and with more luck than any form of talent or proper ability, he avoided the first few blows. But surprisingly soon he found his footing. While still far from good, he wasn’t at least looking like a total failure.

Rosomil moved towards the dead tree and crossed his arms. Although the boy was lacking in many parts, he seemed competent enough for Rosomil to consider training him properly. Still, this was just the beginning of the test, and Rosomil didn’t intend to go easy on Offilo. The only downside was a cold drizzle setting in.